Wrong Side of the Tracks by Ashley Zakrzewski
ChapterFive
Three months later…
The couch is uncomfortable, and the conversation is even worse. I don’t even know why I come here anymore. It’s been three months, and nothing has changed. She might think she can help me, but it’s obvious she can’t.
“It wasn’t your fault, Milo. Let’s go over what happened that night again,” she says, crossing her legs and put her pen to the pad in her lap.
“Nah, I’ll pass. Reliving that night every week isn’t helping. It’s making shit worse, and yet you just keep doing this.”
“This isn’t something that takes hold overnight. Time is important. You need to let yourself grieve and accept.”
“Accept? How am I supposed to accept that while I was at home making dinner for my wife and daughter, that some drunk driver decided it was a good idea to go back to the liquor store for a second round?”
There’s the anger again. My knuckles turn white. “I should have gone to get that butter from the fucking store. If I did, then they would be here, and I would be gone. She wasn’t…” I trail off.
Kennedy was only six years old when she died. She didn’t even get to experience the world yet.
“I can’t do this anymore. You can cancel our future appointments, doc.”
I grab my helmet, and throw open her door, not wanting to be in that damn room for one more second. Tears are rolling down my face and I don’t give a damn who sees them. My wife and daughter are gone, and all because I wanted to do something special and cook dinner that night. Normally, my wife always cooked, but I had this great idea for a dish my mother used to make for me.
“Fuck!” I scream, throwing my leg over the motorcycle, and starting the engine.
The humming of the engine drowns out all my thoughts. Getting out on the open road is cheaper than therapy. The past year has been a whirlwind, but the thing is things aren’t going to get easier. When I’m out here, there are no cares or worries, nothing else matters but the feeling of air on my face and enjoying the countryside view.
Therapy hasn’t worked for me, and even though she keeps telling me there is nothing I could have done, it doesn’t make me feel any different. As a father, it is my job to protect my child, and I failed. My whole world was shattered in just one hour, and it’s not possible to take it back. Press the restart button and do it all over again and things to be different.
As I travel down the country dirt road, cows and horses are roaming around the farms, enjoying the grass and sunshine. Kennedy was always so good with animals, and one day she was going to be a Veterinarian. That asshole took that option away from her.
When I pull into my long driveway, I imagine Darcy waiting for me inside. Ever since last year, she doesn’t like to be left alone long. I can’t say I blame her. As I put the peg up, and ease off, her barking becomes louder, and it’s obvious she knows I’m home. My boots knock against the wood porch, alerting her that I’m closer, and she is now in front of the door.
“Move back, girl. I don’t want to hit ya,” I say, slowly opening the door, but being careful not to let her out. She’s small, but fast.
As the door shuts behind me, she is licking my face as I kneel down, and scoop her up into my arms. She acts like I’ve been gone for hours. It’s been less than one.
“Darce, you need one of your anxiety pills. I totally forgot to give it to you before I left, sweet girl. I’m so sorry,” I say, opening the cabinet to grab her pill, and then putting inside a folded slice of cheese.
“Sit.” I instruct her. “Good girl.”
Darcy is an Alaskan Klee Kai and everyone calls her a husky. She does look like one except she will never get that big, only averaging about fifteen pounds at full adult. Don’t get it twisted though, she acts just like a husky. Energetic, intelligent, but the breed has some downsides too. They do not like to be left alone and she sheds. Oh my gosh, does she shed.
I take a seat on the couch, letting her get up next to me and lay down. She doesn’t calm down while I’m away, and it’s her instinct to protect me.
Things haven’t been great since the accident, and Darcy misses her family, but we have been grieving together. Neither of us understand why it had to be them. Why the man couldn’t just stay home? She snuggles into my side to comfort me.
My wife wanted a dog for Kennedy to grow up with, and on her fourth birthday, Darcy came into our lives, and they were inseparable. The joy on my little girl’s face every day when she came home from school and found Darcy waiting for her tickled her pink. Yet, she’s not here to grow up with anymore. Darcy is stuck with me, a bitter man, who wants justice.
The house is silent which lets my mind wander so I turn the TV on and let my mind get sucked into whatever is on. It turns out to be some old action movie, and honestly, anything right now is better than thinking about that night. It replays in my head at least ten times a day.
Darcy rolls over on her back and my hand grazes around her belly, giving her exactly what she wants. She trusts me, and I’m her master. The first couple of weeks all she did was try to comfort me and was lay in front of the door, waiting on Kennedy to come home.
All I know is Lee is better die in prison, because if he gets out and I’m still alive, there are going to be consequences. He took two innocent lives because of his stupidity. The two most important people in my life. He should have died that night, but somehow he lived, and my wife and daughter didn’t. Tell me how that makes sense.