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“I’m starving, so I say we take the car and get there faster.”
He chuckles. “Can’t argue with that.”
He follows me to my car, one I used to be afraid to drive in fear of having one of my episodes. I haven’t had any issues with blacking out, having debilitating headaches, or sleepwalking with no memory of it since Hannah brought me back.
It’s as though my “rebirth”—or whatever one might call it—fixed all the frayed and loose ends of my brain. It’s like my brain completely rebooted and finally works smoothly now that no one’s tampering with my memories and thoughts.
When it comes to guilt and regret, though, I’m still working on that. But I’ve made some progress. Especially when I look at my favorite quotes taped to the side of one of my tool chests.
“This morning, with her, having coffee.” —Johnny Cash, when asked for his description of paradise
This was always more like a wish. A pipe dream. I never thought I’d find someone who’d feel that way about me.
For a brief moment in time, though…perhaps I did.
The other quote reminds me of that fateful night.
“Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.” —Chief Tecumseh
I guess one could say I sang my death song in the HelixCorp building. I wouldn’t be so bold as to claim that I died like a hero, but at least I died doing the right thing.
Another sticky note has now joined those two. I’ve adopted what Hannah had said into a mantra, of sorts, and I think it fits well alongside the others.
Life’s too short to live with regrets over things you can’t change.
There’s a sense of peace that comes with accepting what I can’t change. With living a life where I refuse to be the outcast.
I won’t go and say that my life’s perfect, because it’s not. But then again, I’m pretty damn far from being perfect. And that’s okay.
I’ve made it a point to put myself out there more and live instead of merely existing. I’ll never be Little Miss Sunshine, but I’ve at least been attempting to be more social.
The crazy thing is, people have responded to my attempts in a good way. They greet me first now, when I see them out in town. They don’t gawk at my scars…well, most of them don’t.
Within a few minutes, Steve and I walk into Mammy’s restaurant. The hostess seats us, and by the time she sets two glasses of water in front of us, Mammy’s making a beeline for our booth.
“You don’t know how good it is to see you eatin’ good, again.” She holds out her arms and turns her cheek. “Now gimme some sugar, darlin’.”
I rise from my seat, smack a quick kiss to her cheek, and give her a hug. She squeezes me, affection practically oozing from her pores, before releasing me with a proud smile. “You look even prettier than ever.”
A blush spreads on my cheeks, and I’m spared a response because she addresses Steve. “Now, honey, you should know better by now than to think I’m not expectin’ a kiss from a tall drink of water like yourself.”
Steve’s wide grin is indulgent as he slides out of the booth seat and plants a kiss on her cheek. “Nice to see you, Mammy.”
Fanning her face, she cackles. “You better watch out for this one, Mac.”
I sink back down in my seat with a wry smirk. “There’s no watching necessary. He’s just a friend.”
“Plus,” Steve chimes in, “I’ve been savin’ myself for you.”
Mammy tosses her head back on a cackle so boisterous, it has her swiping tears beneath her eyes. “Oh, you’re a smooth talker. The usual for y’all?”
“Yes, ma’am,” we say in unison. Then I tack on, “And a burger to go for Annalee once we’re finished, please.”
“You got it.” With a smile that has her eyes crinkling affectionately, she gives us a little wave. “I’ll see y’all later.”
“Later, Mammy,” we say in unison as the older woman heads toward the kitchen, still chuckling to herself.
Steve’s mouth parts, but he’s interrupted when Jed Sherman, one of the older locals, steps up to our booth. “Hey, Mac.” He nods at Steve. “Steve. My apologies for interrupting y’all.”
