One of a Kind
“Don’t run on the sidewalk, Nathan. You’ll fall and hurt yourself. Remember the last time?”
“Dad said it was okay, because I’m four and I heal quickly.” He turned a sad face to his mom. “Unlike Auntie Karen.”
Alice felt her knees buckle and almost lost her balance. Her right hand automatically rested over the pocket in her purse where she kept a fake ticket stub, a reminder of a horror no one should experience. Using a ticket as a token from Karen’s bachelorette party instead of a normal invitation was Alice’s idea, Karen being the manager of the local movie theater.
“You remember Auntie Karen?” Alice asked, after taking a few deep breaths. She tried to forget the accident but couldn’t—even a year later. She knew she would never stop thinking about the two of them stumbling out of the hotel where the party was held, onto the sidewalk. Chattering and laughing. Karen pushed Alice out of the way just as the drunk driver’s car swerved and bounced over the curb, killing Karen. Alice tried substituting positive memories. Like when they went skinny dipping in a local pond at two o’clock in the morning. Or when they ate all the Girl Scout cookies, instead of delivering them. Boy, were Karen’s parents mad.
“Of course,” Nathan said, startling Alice. “She was your best friend. We used to play Zingo against her every Saturday morning and always won.”
“You do remember.” She tickled him. “It’s important we do,” Alice said, “in a good way.” She tickled Nathan some more until he ran away.
“Still the cutest kid. You did good.” It was Karen’s voice Alice heard in her head.
Alice reached into her purse, took out the stub, and wadded it in her fist.
It was time to say goodbye—for now.
Bio:
Jim Harrington lives in Huntersville, NC, with his wife and two dogs. His stories have appeared in Short-Story.me, Ariel Chart, CommuterLit, Fewer Than 500, and others. More of his works can be found at https://jpharrington.blogspot.