Page 17 of Chasing Smoke

But I can’t keep all of his things forever. In the end, decades from now, I’ll likely only have his firefighter uniforms and a few key pieces of clothing that hold memories for me.

I take the time to inspect each shirt and let the times he wore them wash over me. The hoodie he always wore whenever he made a bonfire out back still smells faintly of smoke. I set that in the keep pile. The threadbare high school gym T-shirt that he wore to wash his truck in the summer. That’s a keeper too.

By the time I’m through the batch of clothing, I actually find myself with a small smile on my face. I’m used to trying to push away all my memories of my life with Caleb when they rear up, but somehow, when I willingly immerse myself in the past… it’s not that it doesn’t hurt. But it was nice remembering him and the times we’ve shared, the love we had.

What you resist persists.

It’s something my yoga teacher back in Texas used to say.

I sit on the edge of the bed. Maybe that’s the key. I need to stop trying to avoid the pain, push through it, and think of all the memories we shared.

It’s not as if I’m not in pain anyway. I’ll always carry the loss of my husband with me in some way for the rest of my life, but maybe if I work through the pain, it will be tolerable. Or tolerable enough to let me have some semblance of a life.

Before I can think better of it, I walk over to my nightstand, pick up my phone, and pull up Ansel’s contact. My fingers hover over the screen, and I inhale a deep breath. Oh screw it, I’m not sure I can do this myself. At least at first.

I’d like to take you up on your offer if you’re still willing.

I set the phone back down and go back to sorting Caleb’s clothes.

It doesn’t take Ansel more than a few minutes to respond, my phone chirping on the nightstand.

Ansel

Name the time and place

I have a brief moment of panic, not having any idea what to suggest, when I remember a flyer I saw at the post office the other day.

I have one idea, but I’m not sure it’s something you’ll be into.

Ansel

I’m in.

I switch over to my internet browser, find what I’m thinking of, and send him the link.

Ansel

I might have to hang up my man card, but I’m your guy.

A frisson of nerves washes over me but also gratitude because I probably wouldn’t be doing this if it weren’t for his push. He always was a great friend to Caleb.

Great. I’ll meet you there about ten minutes before?

Ansel

I’ll be there.

I set my phone on the night table and pull some more of Caleb’s clothes from the closet.

I soon have quite the donation pile going, so I opt to go to the garage to grab some contractor bags for the donations. There’s no entry directly from the garage into the house, so I slide on my winter boots and throw a coat on, clutching it together as I brave the cold.

The brisk winter temperature steals the air from my lungs as I shlep down the stairs and punch in the code to open the garage. The door retracts, and I sneak under it as it continues to rise, desperate for a little warmth.