An Empty Seat
The sound of the light switch clicking on broke the silence as if a gun had been fired into the sky. He stood in the doorway and looked at the room like he was seeing it for the first time. The bed they had shared lay empty before him. Her open suitcase, still perfectly organized, sat on the floor of the open closet door. Her reading glasses lay folded on the bedside table as though she had just been wearing them an hour ago. An hour ago she had been breathing.
Joe walked into the room and sat gingerly on the bed. He reached out and lightly touched her pillow. His hand looked old. He hadn’t noticed that before. Where had the time gone? They had built a life together. They had two daughters who were now motherless. What was he going to do? He wanted to crawl between the sheets and go to sleep. He wanted to stop the thoughts and images that overtook his mind. He wanted to talk to her about all of this. He needed her to help him figure out how to go on.
It took every last bit of energy he had to get up off the bed. His sister had been kind enough to book him a flight home. He had to get to his girls. They would need him now more than they ever had. Julie had raised them. He was their dad, but he was an attorney. He was at the office before they got up and often there until long after they were asleep. They were teenagers. What did he know about raising teenage girls?
He walked to her suitcase and fingered the delicate folded items. He picked up a shirt that lay on top of one of the neat piles and pressed it against his face. His knees started to buckle and he knelt on the floor there in the closet. Her scent overtook him. He didn’t know if it was laundry detergent, her soap, her lotion, or just…her.