The Secrets of Hickory

16

Analia

The day was winding down when Mom asked to speak with me privately. There was a solemn look in her eyes that immediately set off alarms in my mind. We sat down in the living room, the space where so many family memories resided, now the backdrop for something potentially ominous."Analia, there's something I need to tell you," Mom began, her voice laced with hesitation. "It's about the day Jordan... the day we lost him."I leaned forward, my heart pounding. "What is it, Mom?"She took a deep breath, her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. "I saw Damien that day." She stopped to cough slightly, her chemo and the stress was starting to catch up with her. "Here, near our house. It was just a glimpse, but I'm certain it was him."Her words hit me like a physical blow. Damien? Near our house on the day of Jordan's murder? It couldn't be a coincidence. But why hadn't she mentioned this before?"Why are you only telling me this now?" The question came out more sharply than I intended.Mom's eyes filled with regret. "I didn't think much of it at first. Damien was Max's friend, after all. But after everything that's been happening, the doubts, the questions... I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."My mind raced, trying to piece together this new information with everything else I knew. Damien had never mentioned being near my house that day. Was it possible that he had been involved in Jordan's murder? The thought was a jagged pill to swallow, scraping against everything I felt for him."Thank you for telling me, Mom," she interrupted me with a hacking cough, suddenly unable to catch her breath. I reached out to her and held her hand as she slowly caught her breath. "You really shouldn't be adding anymore stress to your life mom. I can't lose you too." I managed to say, my voice a mere whisper. She reached over to hold me close, the most comfort I've had from her in a long time. Her bones seemed to dig into my skin, and I could suddenly see how sickly she looked. I choked back a sob before squeezing her tightly once more. She squeezed me back just as tightly before she let me go with a gentle kiss to the crown of my head. A silent goodbye for now.As Mom's words hung in the air, a part of me wanted to latch onto them, to see them as a warning sign. But another, stronger part of me—the part that Damien had reached and nurtured—cast those words aside. Damien, involved in Jordan's murder? Impossible. The very idea seemed ludicrous to me. Mom was ill, after all, and stress could play tricks on the mind."Mom, it's probably just a mix-up," I reassured her, my voice steady with a conviction I didn't fully feel. "Damien wouldn't... He couldn't be involved."She looked at me, her eyes brimming with concern and something else; fear, perhaps. But I was already dismissing her concerns, already building a wall against the doubts she had planted."That ring you found in Jordan's house." She paused as I was already halfway out of my seat. "I gave that to Jordan the last time he came over," she glanced at a vase of dying daisies. "He was supposed to use it at Thanksgiving, to ask you to marry him." As I sat back down, she looked at her hands. "he was supposed to be my son-in-law, and he was supposed to be the one to allow me to see my daughter get married before I die. Now I know I'll never get that chance." She choked out a sob and covered her mouth and face with both hands. I moved around the table, and pulled her into me once again, closer this time somehow, but we both needed it. I didn't know that Jordan still felt that way about me. We had both moved on to date other people after we tried dating each other. How could he still hold those same feelings for me.As I held my mother, feeling the tremble of her sobs against my chest, my world felt as though it had tilted on its axis. The knowledge that Jordan had planned to propose, that our paths might have reconnected in such a profound way, was overwhelming. It was a future that had been stolen from us, a dream extinguished before it could even take hold.The ring, a symbol of what could have been, now felt heavier in my mind than it ever had in my hand. My thoughts were a whirlwind of 'what ifs' and 'might have beens'. How had I missed the signs? Had my feelings for Jordan lingered beneath the surface, unnoticed, or had I truly moved on?I stroked my mother's hair gently, my own eyes brimming with tears. "I had no idea, Mom," I whispered, the words thick in my throat. The revelation added a new layer of sorrow to Jordan's loss – not just the loss of a friend but the loss of a future that I hadn't even known to dream of.As the reality of Jordan's intentions sank in, my thoughts inevitably drifted to Damien. He had filled the void left by Jordan's death, offering support and comfort. But now, in the shadow of what my mother had revealed, my relationship with Damien felt like it was built on the ruins of a past I hadn't fully understood.I helped Mom to bed, tucking her in as she had done for me so many times as a child. Her frailty was a stark reminder of the relentless passage of time and the preciousness of the moments we had left. As I turned off the light, her final words lingered in the air. "Be happy, Analia. That's all I've ever wanted for you."Back in my room, I sat in the dark, the moon casting a pale glow through the window. The ring, the photograph, Damien's presence in my life – they all seemed to be pieces of a puzzle I couldn't quite solve. The emotions within me were a tangled knot of grief, love, and confusion.As sleep finally claimed me, my dreams were a mosaic of memories – Jordan's laughter, the look of promise in his eyes, interwoven with moments of tenderness from Damien. I was adrift in a sea of what was and what could have been, searching for a shore that seemed perpetually out of reach.In the morning, I woke with a sense of resolve. There were truths I needed to face, about Jordan, about Damien, and about myself. The path ahead was uncertain, but I knew I had to walk it, for Jordan, for my mother, and for the peace that had eluded me since that fateful day.