Understanding

Shelby sat in her car with her hands wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel, that her knuckles were stark white. Taking a shaky breath, she pried her hands from the wheel, and unbuckled her seat belt. Then, sat grew still again, trying to prepare herself for what she was about to do.
You owe her this. Her mind scolded her; it’s been five years since you've been here. You owe her this much.

Swinging her car door open, Shelby planted her feet on the ground, and sucked in a wild breath of cool air. Her shaky hands raked through her curly, shoulder length, glossy brown hair. She could feel the tears picking at the backs of her eyes, already. Pulling herself out of the vehicle, she then swung the door back shut before she could think of diving back into it.

She took a step forward, and then another. Soon, her feet were carrying her without her really having to think about it. Why is this always so hard? She questioned to herself, eyebrows furrowing together as she hunched her shoulders. It’s always so quiet. So eerily quiet.

Repressing a shudder, Shelby slowed her steps as she drew closer to her destination. She sucked in another lungful of oxygen, but this time it was quieter, like she feared to disturb those around her.
Shelby just stood, staring, for a few moments. Fidgeting nervously, her front teeth sunk into her bottom lip. Finally, working up her nerve to move, she reached out at the same time she crouched down,



She traced the writing with her fingertips, the cold of the stone biting at them, but she didn’t care. Her bottom lip quivered, and she didn’t stop the tears that started to spill over her cheeks. She stayed silent for a moment, turning her eyes towards the heavens before she started to talk.
________________________________________

Austin wandered into the cemetery, his hands stuck into the pocket of his jeans. He let his eyes roam over all of the headstones, stopping to read the names on a few of the older ones. He’d just gotten back from his latest tour and felt it was time to make a visit to his Momma. He removed his aviators when he reached her, and hooked them over the collar of his shirt. Reaching out, his tattooed digits ran along the top of the head stone.

After telling her everything that he had to say, he pressed a kiss to the cool stone, and turned to leave. Stopping short, he turned when he thought he heard a soft whimper carry through the air. He shook his head; he shouldn't stick his nose into other people’s business, or grief for that matter. But, something was nagging at him, telling him to follow the soft sounds of sorrow.

Choosing to listen to his heart over his head, he stuffed his hands back into his pockets, and ventured to find wherever the noise was coming from. He found his answer not too far away from his mother’s resting place. A young woman was crouched in front of a head stone, her small hand gripped the top of the stone tightly, and her head was bowed, shoulders shaking.

“—I’m so sorry,” She sobbed softly, “I haven’t been here for five years; there wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think about you. I think about you every single day. But I feel like you’re fading, Momma.” Another sob worked its way out of her throat, and Austin felt his heart clench, knowing exactly how she was feeling, “I can’t hear your laugh anymore, I can’t remember what your voice use to sound like. I— I can’t remember...that kills me.”

“You shouldn't blame yourself, you know.” Austin whispered and his throat felt thick at the rush of emotion that he felt coursing through his system. “She wouldn't blame you.”

The girl whipped around at the sound of his murmur, eyes wide in freight as she wiped furiously at her eyes. She climbed to her feet, and by the way that she stumbled around, Austin could tell that she’d been here for a while.

“Who are you?” She snapped as she stared at him with a vicious look in her eyes, voice gravelly from the crying that she had done, “Do you make it a habit of listening in on other people’s conversations?”

He ignored the biting sarcasm in her tone, having felt exactly how she was feeling right now, more than once. He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet,

“I lost my Mom, too, when I was young.”

Her eyes softened as soon as the words left his mouth, and he watched as her shoulders sagged,

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He told her, dipping his head so that he could catch her gaze, “She was sick.” He offered, hoping to defuse whatever anger was left in her, offering this information so she would know that he wasn't trying to spite her.

“Mine too,” She whispered, turning back to look at the head stone. “I was eleven.”

“Seventeen.” Austin returned, keeping his voice soft as he watched her scrub at her already blood shot eyes, “You’re going to make them even more irritated, you know.”

“I know,” She whispered, “I just can’t get them to stop.”

“Listen, I know you don’t know me. I probably seem like a fucking creep right now, but there’s a park up the road, why don’t we walk up there and talk? It’s always a little easier--.”

“--to talk to someone who understands how you’re feeling.” Shelby whispered, stealing his words directly from his mouth. He stared at her, bewildered for a moment, before regaining himself and nodding,

“Exactly.” He held out his hand, “I’m Austin, by the way.”

“Shelby.” She returned, taking his hand and Austin couldn’t help but notice how small her hand looked wrapped up in his tattooed hand. He let her hand go a moment later, and stuffed his hands into his pockets once more. “Is it alright to just leave our cars here?”

“They should be fine, but if you get a ticket, I’ll pay for it.” He smiled a bit, and noticed that a little smile tugged on the corners of her lips as well. “Shall we?” He asked, and she nodded, stepping forward to follow him. They walked side by side, neither saying anything. But neither of them was able to deny the sense of understanding that pulsed through the air between them.

_______________________________________

Shelby took a sip of coffee, listening to Austin share a few of his favorite memories with her. She liked listening to him, his voice. She looked up at him eyes scanning over the tattoo that he was explaining to her, that was for his Mom.

“I have one on my back, for my mom.” She murmured and Austin nodded,

“ Didn't take you for the tattoo type,” He paused, “Well I mean I didn't see any. Can I see it?”

“Of course,” Shelby set her coffee on the bench next to her and shrugged her zippy off of her shoulders, turning away from him so he could look at the pink ribbon centered between her shoulder blades. “I got it when I turned sixteen—I had it plan--.” She stopped short when she felt Austin’s fingers brush over the “Mom” in the ribbon, and couldn't help the shudder that wracked her body.

“Sorry,” He apologized quickly, placing the zippy back up around her shoulders. He chuckled sheepishly and wrung his hands together. “I was just admiring the work.”

“No, it’s okay.” She laughed lightly, “Just—natural reaction, I guess.” She picked up her coffee cup once more, “I don’t mean to pry, but how was your relationship with your Dad, after you lost your Mom?”

“Rocky,” Austin sighed, “I mean--I’ll always love him because he’s my Dad.” Austin paused, trying to formulate what he wanted to say next, but Shelby piped up,

“And he’s the only one you have left, so no matter what he puts you through, you feel like you can’t give up on him?”

“Yes.” Austin whispered, shaking his head, “Exactly. It’s kind of freaky that you can do that.”

“It is, isn't it?” Shelby laughed a bit, “I’m really not trying to weird you out or anything, but it’s just that I understand.”

“No, no, I know.” Austin smiled, “I mean I talk to a lot of fans that have been through something similar, but most of the time it’s just for a second, you know? So you don’t get to really get in depth with them.” He watched Shelby nod as she touched her eyelids lightly. They were starting to swell lightly from her tears and being wiped and rubbed as much as they had been. “A cool washcloth over your eyes will help with that, when you get home.”

“Frozen peas are a good alternative as well.” Shelby laughed lightly, shaking her head. “I feel like I look ridiculous. I wish I had sunglasses.”

“You don’t look ridiculous.” Austin argued, running his hands over his pant legs before leaning back into the bench, resting his right ankle against his left knee. He scratched his chin before fiddling with his nose ring, looking over at Shelby with his soft, brown eyes. “You look human.”

“I just still, after all of this time, feel so guilty.” Shelby whispered, feeling tears biting at the corners of her eyes again. “Like, why didn't I tell her I loved her more? Or, why the hell did I fight with her? What was wrong with me?” Her breath caught in her throat, and her voice trembled. “I just think about all of these things that I could have done differently, but didn't and I can’t understand why I didn't.”

“You were a kid, Shelby. Still too young to fully understand the depth of what was going on or the illness itself.”

“I still feel guilty…” Her voice was so soft, Austin barely caught what she said, but when he her hear breath hitch, and saw her shoulders start to shake, he knew that she was crying again. Without thinking twice, he reached out and took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers and giving it a squeeze. He didn't say anything, so that she could keep talking if she wanted too, or she didn't have to say anything at all. But, he wanted her to know that he was there. Having just met this woman or not, he didn't give a shit.

“I always think about my wedding day, of how she won’t be there to calm my nerves, or help me into my wedding dress. I won’t be able to look at her for that final moment of reassurance as I’m walking down the aisle.” She said softly, wiping at her already sore eyes, “Or when I have kids. My kids will never know the wonderful woman that their Grandma was. They’ll experience the love that she was capable of. It’s just not fucking fair.”

Austin felt his throat start to clog up. His eyes started to burn with tears that wanted to fall. He bit his lip for a second, and let his eyes fall shut. “I know.” Was all that he said, and it was all that he needed to say, because Shelby knew, knew that he really did know exactly how she was feeling.

“It seems like the best people are always the ones that are taken.” Austin whispered, “I was never able to wrap my head around that one. Like, why? Why her? She didn't have a bad bone in her body, not one. She didn't deserve that, she didn't even really get the chance to live her life.” His voice cracked but he didn't care. It was Shelby’s turn to squeeze his hand. He looked over at her, and saw that tears were leaking down her cheeks, her brown eyes red and watery, and she whispered two simple words.

“I know.”

They sat in silence for some time after that, lost in their own memories and sorrows. Although neither of them had made the move to unlace their intertwined hands, allowing their hands to rest on the bench in the small space between their bodies. Each of them took comfort in the company of the other, although there were no words spoken, that air of understanding was still there. Something that neither of them had felt as strongly as they were at the moment, so they sat. Just taking comfort in the being that was seated next to them.

It wasn't until the sun had started to set that Austin spoke, his voice sounding funny to him after the stretch of silence.

“Listen, I’d really like to see you again.” He squeezed her hand, “I know that this whole situation seems totally absurd--.”

“No, I’d like to see you again, too.” Shelby smiled, “I’ll give you my number.”

When Austin returned to his home that night, he couldn't help but look up into the stars and wonder if his mother had anything to do with him meeting Shelby. A smile tugged the corners of his lips and he kissed his tattooed hand and sent that kiss up towards Heaven.