And You Let Her Go

“What the hell is this?!” I heard a familiar voice scream. Emily barged into my room as I was laying in bed.

“What?” I muttered, eyeing her Miami sweatshirt with a chocolate stain just above the boob. I guess I’m not the only one who looks to Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy…

Em jumped onto my bed, standing above me. She looked back at her laptop screen and started reading, “Just yesterday, Harry Styles from One Direction was seen on Rush Street getting cozy with a gorgeous blonde. They looked very comfortable as they laughed together and got breakfast at Starbucks. Is this yet another hot blonde we’ll be finding in Harry’s bedroom, or the real thing?” She looked back at me, gaping.

“They called me gorgeous?” I asked, trying to distract her. I was surprised that our casual breakfast turned into something as big as an article on perezhilton.com. Then again, it was Harry Styles…

She shoved me off the bed, forcing me to snap back into our conversation. Or more like casual violence…

“Ouch! What was that for?” I asked her confused, and now a bit angry. Her glare softened and she sat down on the floor next to me. I kept looking at her questioningly.

“You really know Harry Styles. Harry fucking Styles! I didn’t believe you before… But… Wait. Are you guys, you know…?” Now she was the one looking at me questioningly.

“Are you kidding? We’ve only been out for tea twice, and besides, he’s too important and perfect to be seen with someone like me,” I muttered the last part.

“Are you going to see him again?” She prodded, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh my god, Em! I don’t know! I haven’t talked to him in two days, he’s probably busy with interviews and stuff.” I sighed, leaning my head back against my bed.

“Whatever, this has to happen.” And without further explanation to what she was referring to, she left and closed my door. I took my phone and reread the article. There was even a picture attached to it where Harry and I were facing each other and he rubbed his arms up and down my arms. He said we wouldn’t be able to hang out for a couple of days because of work. Which reminded me, I needed to go find a new job.

As I got up from the floor, my phone started to buzz. My father was calling. I took a deep breathe before picking up, slapping the biggest smile on me face; not that he could see me. “Hi dad!”

“’Ello, Charlie! How’s my favorite daughter doing?” I scoffed at his greeting.

“Dad, I’m your only daughter. And a good one at that,” I added.

I could practically hear my dad smile through the other line. I scolded myself for not calling him first. I would have been a good daughter if I called my dad at least once a week, with us being in different countries and all. Nowadays, it came down to one phone call a month.

“Have you talked to Mum recently?” my dad asked. Why was he asking me this question? He knew I haven’t exchanged anything with my mom, nevertheless a conversation, in over six months.

“No,” I muttered, “I haven’t.” I heard his heavy sigh as well as a door closing.

“Char, I’m sorry, that was probably the wrong conversation starter. But there’s no right way to transition to what I’m about to say.” Another heavy sigh. I gripped my phone, wanting to hear everything my dad was about to say.

“You’re Auntie Laura passed away last night due to a heart attack. I called you because the family really wants you to be here so we can all remember auntie together. I hope you’ll fulfill their wishes.” I gripped my bedside table, afraid I was about to pass out.

Auntie Laura was yet another one of my family members I’d failed to call and keep in touch with while I was living in Chicago. I remembered our trips to Rye, England during Christmas. She would take me out for breakfast every morning at my favorite café, Jempson’s. I haven’t gone back to Rye for several years now because I wanted to start my own life here.

“Charlie?” I’d forgotten my dad was still on the line. I straightened up and took a deep breath.

“Yes. Of course I’ll join the family. I’ll find a flight out as soon as I can.”

I ended the conversation with my dad 20 minutes later with him describing Auntie’s last days, “She was as healthy as a horse! No one would have suspected her to get a heart attack.” Yeah, that’s what they usually said, wasn’t it? I never thought my trip back to my hometown would be for a reason like this.