Counting Goodbyes Read online

  Copyright

  Counting Goodbyes is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  COUNTING GOODBYES: A NOVEL

  Copyright © 2018 by Whitney Cannavina

  All rights reserved.

  Editing by Michelle Areaux

  Cover design by KP Designs

  Published by Kingston Publishing Company

  The uploading, scanning, and distribution of this book in any form or by any means—including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Contents

  Copyright

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  Extras

  Chapter 1

  I love you

  for all that you are

  all that you have been

  and all you’ve yet to be.

  -Unknown-

  “Mom!” I yell with excitement as I run to my bedroom.

  Today is the last day of my junior year in high school and I am beyond excited. This summer is going to rock. Just mom and I hitting the road headed to Florida. We have a few stops on the way, which should be super fun since mom and I love to see new places, one of them being Texas before heading to West Palm Beach. Who knows what’s in Texas that she wants to see so badly, but as long as we still have time to relax in the sun on the beach and tan, then its ok by me. She said it’s a surprise, but I’ve never had any interest in visiting Texas. It’s just a lot of dirt, dust, and cowboy’s, right? Not that I don’t like cowboy’s but don’t all cowboys chew, spit and talk funny, or is that just a stereotype? Ah, who cares? I’m sure mom has a good reason for wanting me to see Texas.

  Mom is getting off early and taking the month off so we can have this vacation. She’s been saving her vacation days, sick days, and all the money she possibly could so we could afford this trip that we have been planning for three years now. She should already be home by the time I get there, and we plan to leave right away and head to Arizona first then cut down into Texas before hitting Florida. It’s going to be a long drive, but it will be worth it.

  When I come back from our trip this summer, I plan to make my senior year unforgettable. I’ll try new things, step out of my comfort zone a little, and maybe even date. I have never been on a date, let alone been asked out, so I’m not really sure what my type is or how to go about doing this, but I have always pictured myself with someone sort of nerdy. The type of guy who is super smart and extremely nice, maybe a little shy and cute and wears glasses. I guess my standards are not all that high, but I gotta start somewhere. It’s not like the hot and popular star athlete would look at me twice, anyhow. I’m just a plain Jane. Then again, I am just getting ahead of myself.

  “What’s up?” Mom asks as she watches me with amusement painting her face.

  My mom is the complete opposite of my plain Jane looks. She is beautiful and looks closer to my age as a sister than a mom. I have no idea what happened to me because I think the pretty stick skipped a generation or I look exactly like my father, which means he must be plain and ordinary. I’ve never met him before, but I’ve always imagined him with dark, brown hair and brown eyes. He must be short too, because I haven’t grown past my five-foot-two stature since freshman year. It’s sad really, because whenever I need something that is up high, I have to grab the stool just to reach, and even then, I sometimes still can’t. When that happens I just let it go. It’s too embarrassing to ask for someone to reach the items too high for me when it’s just so easy for them.

  “I am all packed and ready to go but I have nothing to wear to school now.” I say as I stop my day-dreaming briefly. Pouting, I place my hands on my hips as I look at the mounds of clothes strewn about my room. I just finished my shower and am in a towel looking between my empty closet and the pile of clothes lying on my bedroom floor seeing absolutely nothing that catches my eye. Ok, so maybe I do have clothes, but they are those clothes you stuff in the back of your closet that you can’t stand to part from but will never actually wear.

  “Well honey, you can go look through my clothes in my closet and see if there is something you like in there?”

  The problem with my mother’s clothes is that everything is too long for me and doesn’t fit right on the rest of my body quite like it should be, seeing as my mom is skinny and five-foot-seven, I’ve been told I’m fun size. Don’t laugh. It’s really not funny because I’m not that fun.

  “Mom,” I whine. I love her clothes but sometimes it’s a feat searching through them for something to fit me.

  “Kayla.” She mimics.

  “Humph. Fine,” I grumble. “I’ll just find something out of this pile of clothes.” There really is nothing I want to be seen in but hey, it’s the last day of school. Who’s really going to remember what I was wearing today?

  “Good idea. Now get dressed and come eat the measly breakfast of buttered toast I made for you before you leave.” Mom is already dressed for work in her black peep toe pumps, navy blue slacks and white button up shirt. She’s been working as an insurance representative since before I could remember. She makes good money, I think because she’s always been able to care for me and give me everything I need and wanted, not that I asked for much. She loves her job, she’s happy, and she is by far the greatest mom in the world to boot.

  Once I finish making myself decent, I change into my light blue corduroy shorts and plain black V-neck t-shirt. I pair them with my sparkly silver vans and rush downstairs to stuff my mouth with toast just as I hear the horn blaring from my driveway.

  “Oh. Just in time. Have a great day honey. And tell Lacy next time to come in and say hi to me. I promise not to call her Alice anymore,” she chuckles.

  Swallowing the toast as best I can without choking, I hug her on my way out. “Will do mom. Thanks for the toast. Sorry I have to eat and run. See you later. Love you.”

  “Love you.” Mom calls back just as the door swings shut.

  I rush out of my front door with my phone and ear buds in hand. No need for anything else since it’s the last day of school. Lacy sits idle in her red Volkswagen beetle as I skip to the passenger side before hopping in excitedly.

  “You ready for our last day of school before summer break?” Lacy says eagerly.

  “Um. Isn’t it obvious? Heck yea I’m excited. Tonight, starts our journey to Florida. I can’t wait. This day cannot go by fast enough.”

  Lacy backs up while turning the music up full blast as we listen to Sam Hunt sing about a house party. Lacy has been my best friend since elementary school. We met the first day of kindergarten when we were partnered up to paint together. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

  Lacy went through a Twilig
ht phase where she wanted to be like Alice; hence the reason my mother said she will stop calling her Alice. Her hair is in a short pixie and dyed dark making her look rock chic. When she first decided to have her hair styled this way, I must admit I thought she was just a little crazy. It was going to be such a drastic change from her long red hair that I was afraid she was going to hate it, but in all honesty, she rocks it.

  “I bet. I’m excited for you but I’m going to miss you guys. What the hell am I supposed to do all summer while you two are gone checking out hot guys on the beach in Florida and getting a tan I only wished I could earn?”

  “You could always ask your boyfriend to take you out?”

  “Meh. Why would I want to do that?” She glances at me with a smirk.

  “Oh yes. Why would you want to spend any time with your gorgeous boyfriend who spoils and loves you dearly? Oh yeah, and whom you claim to love.”

  “I can’t talk to him about certain things. How can I complain to him about himself? He doesn’t want to hear about my whining of never having anything to wear. And god forbid I ask him to help me pick out an outfit. Every time I ask him what he thinks of an outfit he just says, ‘you look fine’.” I shake my head with silent laughter. What would she do without me? Lacy needs my help with every little thing. What clothes to wear and where they should go to eat or what movie to see? I swear I am the one who’s dating her without all the perks.

  “You can call me anytime.” I suggest helpfully.

  “Whatever. I’m jealous. Don’t mind little old me. I’ll just be all alone and bored out of my wits here.”

  “Ok.” I shrug and snicker.

  “Hey!”

  We continue to laugh and chat the rest of the drive to school about my trip and how excited it’s going to be.

  ****

  The rest of the day at school flies by and I am beyond ready to get home. After school, Lacy drops me off giving me a hug so tight I think she cracked a rib. Not really, but any tighter and she might have. When we pull up, I notice that my mom’s not home yet. She may have gotten held up at work, which occasionally happens. She’s horrible with time and seems to run late to almost everything. I’ll just call her and see where she is.

  After letting myself in I plug my phone in to the charger in the living room then head to the kitchen and grab a water bottle since that’s pretty much all we have in the house for refreshments. Making my way back into the living room, I grab my cell, put it on speaker and enter in the familiar number, listening to it ring once before I get sent straight to voicemail.

  “Hey mom, I’m home. Where are you? Call me. Love you.” Putting the phone down on the table next to the couch, I decide to head to my room, grab my bags that I packed last night and drop them at the front door. Our house is small, only a two bedroom, but it’s perfect for just us. It’s a two-story house with the bedrooms on the top floor, and the kitchen, living room, and bathroom on the first. All the houses down our block are built the same way but most have college age tenants or elderly. There are no other kids my age down our street so it’s a little boring for me. Well, except when the college kids throw parties. Then it’s not, but we have to deal with the loud music and cars parked up and down the road taking up all the space. I know I’m pretty boring, but I like my quiet and I don’t want to listen to the thumping of the music all night long.

  I continue to wait in the living room for my mom to call or show up as I flip through hundreds of channels on the television finding nothing to watch. I decide to put it on the discovery channel as I watch a group of people walk naked through the wilderness. Seriously? Who comes up with this crap? Yet, somehow, I’m engrossed in the show. Time seems to pass by quickly without my notice as it starts to turn dark outside while I watch crap TV. Not once does my mom call or text me and I start to worry. Where could she be? It’s not like her to not call and tell me when she’s running late.

  My mom and I have a close relationship. We are best friends and have always been that way. I confide in her for everything and have no secrets between us. I’ve never felt like I couldn’t talk to her about anything.

  When I was old enough to realize other kids had two parents, I started to ask my mom about my father and why I didn’t have one, but all my friends did. My mom told me that when she found out she was pregnant with me she ran. She was worried about what my father would think, and she didn’t want to ruin his future by staying. Not once did she say I was a mistake, but she didn’t want my father to give up his future at a University because of an accident, so she left so he could have the future he worked so hard for. She never called or wrote to tell him about me, but she said if I chose to, I could find him, and she would give me his information.

  I’m sure most girls would jump at the opportunity to meet their father, but I had the greatest mom in the world. I didn’t need my father in my life and I didn’t want him in it, either. I was always content with just my mom and me. I figured eventually I would meet him and maybe someday I will, but for now I don’t want to know if he moved on after my mom. I guess maybe that’s what I was always most afraid of.

  My mom told me they were high school sweethearts. He was a year older than her and when they met he was a sophomore and she was a freshman. They dated all through high school and on graduation night at a party they decided to go further. A month later, she found out she was pregnant with me and ran, never to look back. She was seventeen when she had me and I think sometimes she still misses my dad and feels bad for never telling him about me.

  “Come on mom. Pick up.” It rings once before going straight to voicemail again. “Hey mom. I’m getting really worried about you. Where are you? Is everything ok? Call me back please.” I ring my hands nervously. I have no idea what else to do. I’ve called her cell and she should be out of the office by now since they close at five. She should have been home already.

  Just as I contemplate calling the office just to see if maybe she stayed after, blue and red flashing lights appear in the window, distracting me. I bet one of those college kids was finally called on for being a nuisance. I peer out of the tiny window next to the front door and notice they parked in my driveway. Great. Now where is my mom supposed to park her car? Why couldn’t they just park on the street like everyone else?

  As I grumble to myself silently, the two officers step out of their car and start walking up my drive. I open the door and wait for them to approach, wondering why they are heading to my front door.

  “Hello, miss. May we come inside? We’d like to speak to you privately.”

  I fidget with the hem of my shirt nervously as all the worst-case scenarios flit through my mind. “May I ask what this is about?”

  “Are you Makayla Fitzgerald?”

  “Yes. Why?” Confusion and worry cause my insides to twist knowing that something is terribly wrong. Why else would the police be at my front door? The officer with a balding head and rounded stomach sighs before answering.

  “We have some bad news. May we come in so we can discuss this privately?” Bad news? For me?

  “Ok.” I’m even more confused and now I’m starting to panic. I know whatever it is they have to say is going to change my life irrevocably when I notice the somber look on the balding officers face. Leading them into the living room, I never get the chance to sit before the officer begins to speak again.

  “We’re sorry to tell you this but your mother, Alexis Fitzgerald, was hit by an oncoming vehicle. The paramedics did everything they could to save her, but the damage was too much, and she didn’t make it.”

  The more the officer says the less I hear as the fog starts to swirl in my vision and his voice starts to fade in the background. I grab the armrest of the chair I’m next to and slowly lower myself down. This can’t be real. It’s a lie. No way is my mom gone. It’s just not possible. We had plans. We were supposed to spend the summer together traveling and sunning on the beach. She was supposed to help me get ready for my first day of senior year. She was s
upposed to help me fill out applications for grants and colleges. When I got accepted she was supposed to help pick the right college for me. We were going to pick my prom dress together then she would fuss over me and cry on my graduation day, squeeze me tight and refuse to let me go when I left for college to stay in the dorms if it was too far away from here. She can’t be gone. She just can’t be.

  “You’ve made a mistake. My mom can’t be gone. She just can’t. It’s not possible,” I mumble out. They pull out a plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed before with my mom’s purse in it. This is their way of proving their words are true. It’s true that my best friend, my mom is gone forever from my life and there is nothing I can do about it now. I can’t bring her back. I can’t share my future with her. There will be no more conversations about boys, life, and plans for the future. She will miss the most important days of my life. She was too young to die. She had so much more life to live and now it’s all gone.

  Just gone.

  Ripped away from us in a single second.

  Poof.

  “We have your mothers’ purse with important cards and cell phone….”

  “NO!” I shout as I fall to my knees and start to bawl my eyes out. I never hear what the officers say next as I am too heartbroken. Agony radiates from the pit of my stomach all the way up to my heart as it shatters, feeling as if I may never recover. My head becomes light and I can’t see or hear anything besides the screams from within my head, or maybe those screams are coming from me. The officers try to sooth me, but it’s no use.

  I have no clue how long I stay curled in a ball on the floor before I passed out from exhaustion. I never noticed as my best friend Lacy arrives, falling to the floor holding me in her arms as we continue to rock back and forth crying. Did I call her? Did the police call her? I have no idea but I’m grateful for her presence.

  A few friends of ours walk in and out of my house during the night trying to sooth me but I see none of them. I know they mean well but right now, I just can’t deal. They bring food over and offer to help me with whatever I may need. They offer their condolences, but I can’t offer any thanks. It hurts too much that words never come. Lacy stays with me the whole time never once letting me go knowing I need her strength and love to get through this.