The Porch Light

“I just need a sign,” I spoke softly, afraid to wake the others. A breeze blew through my coat sending a shiver down my spine. I pulled my coat tighter around myself and took a cold breath. I looked up at the sky, rain clouds inching closer with every passing moment. I shut my eyes. The trees rustled as the familiar breeze returned, hugging me like a loving mother’s embrace. It sounded like a whistle. I chuckled at the thought. 

A bird squawked and I could hear it push off a branch and fly away. For a moment I let my mind wander and imagine what it would be like to be that bird. So carefree, so happy. It can fly away from it’s problems. I’m envious. 

I’m envious of a bird. A damn bird. I bring myself back to earth.    

“Don’t say anything, Natalie. Let me speak,” My voice broke the silence once more and I offered a small smile. My words drifted off with the wind. 

“I know it’s been a while since I saw you, let alone talked to you,” I shuffled my feet trying to keep warm. The last time I saw her was last November. I remember the fight clearly, too. I don’t remember what caused it, but I remember the door slamming and a vase flying. She stormed off, slamming the front door as I threw the vase at her. The glass shattered against the wall. The water dripped to the floor, drowning the flowers on the hardwood. I wished I was those flowers, because Natalie leaving was like my whole reason to exist walking out the door. I didn’t go after her. I let her leave and I stood there staring at the door. My chest heaved as the anger faded and the waiting began. The silence was loud as I stood in the living room waiting for her to come back. I waited and waited. I sat at the kitchen table, for I don’t know how long. Then I moved to the couch. Eventually I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning still waiting. I left the porch light on in case she came back. But she never did. My own sister had left me. I don’t blame her though. She could kill me and I still wouldn’t blame her. 

“I’m glad we could meet again. I just need you to know I’m sorry. Not just for that night, but for everything,” I looked away, unable to face her. 

“All you did was try to help and I shut you out. I got better though.” I spoke louder this time, not caring anymore if I woke the others. Not that they could really hear me. I looked at the sky again as it got darker. The clouds were getting closer. I could hear a deep rumbling in the distance. I never did like thunder. Natalie didn’t either. Although she didn’t seem to mind this time. It seems we’ve both changed. 

“I’m sober. I got a good job, and I actually like it. I haven’t thought about quitting yet.” A smile briefly crossed my face until I remembered the real reason I’m here. I swear I heard her take a breath like she was going to speak, but it might’ve been the wind.

“Natalie, please let me talk.” I kept my gaze fixated on a building about four yards away. I’m not ready to face her. I’m not entirely sure I deserve to. 

“I need you to know that I miss you. It’s been a hard eleven months. I don’t expect you to forgive me,” I looked at the others and I could feel the tears creeping in. My throat tightened, I looked up at the sky and blinked the tears away. The cold air burned my eyes. 

“Sorry,” I apologized for almost breaking down in front of her. Again. Only this time it wouldn’t end with her running away. 

“You know I kept the porch light on for seven months?” I chuckled. She didn’t make a sound. Sometimes I still leave it on. Out of habit or the hope that she’ll come back, I’m not sure. 

“Do you remember when we used to stay up listening to music until mom would come in and shut off the light?” I smiled at the memory. I hoped she could see how much I miss her and need her in my life again. But I can’t see her, I won’t do it. I don’t deserve it. 

“I miss it,” I shoved my hands in my pockets as another breeze hugged me. My teeth chattered against my will. 

“I miss us,” I whispered after a moment of silence. Natalie has always been a good listener. That’s just who she is. She’s always there for people regardless of who they are. Hell, half the time she didn’t know these people. If someone looked sad at a bus stop she was all over it. The conversation usually ended with a hug and a thankful smile. She didn’t know these people’s lives, she just knew they needed a sign to continue. They needed something good in this cruel, cruel world. That something good just happened to be her. I remember when she was my something good. And then I messed up. 

“I don’t deserve you, Natalie. I don’t think I ever did, on second thought.” My shoulders dropped. My mouth hung open and I stared at my feet. Why did I come here? What was my goal? Suddenly I couldn’t remember anything other than the fact that I let her go.

“I shouldn’t even be here I don’t-” I stopped myself before I spiraled. I knew what happened when I spiraled. If I left now I knew where I’d end up and I don’t want that anymore. I’ve been good. I’ve been good for her. 

“Thank you for listening to me ramble, you’ve always been good at that.” The breeze turned into a wind that twirled my hair around. I remembered the reason I came. 

“Natalie, I came here for a few reasons. One, to show you I’ve gotten better. Two, to show you I miss you. And three, to ask for a sign,” I paused, “A sign to continue.”

I knew she couldn’t be in my life anymore. It’s my fault. Without Natalie I had no direction. I had no anchor. There’s nothing keeping me here. Sure, I got better and I’m stable now, but it doesn’t change what happened. It doesn’t change the guilt that’s eating me alive with each breath I take. I closed my eyes.

She had every right to slam that door on me. On us. But I should’ve stopped her. Now I needed to say what I couldn't before. 

“I love you.” I choked out, eyes still shut tight. I heard a rustling behind me and I imagined it was her walking away from me. In reality it was probably a squirrel running into a bush.  

I let my mind wander again. She’s so patient. 

I imagine a different time. A different place. I don’t really know where, but it’s warm and I’m happy. Natalie’s there. Her contagious laughter echoes in my mind. She tells me it’s okay. I don’t know what she’s referring to, but she’s always right. It’s okay. 

“Please give me a sign, little sister.” This time I looked down, directly at her. She looked so beautiful. Her bright red hair curled perfectly around her freckled face. Her green eyes stared deep into the depths of my soul. I felt my body begin to thaw. She smiled her perfect smile back at me, just like she used to. Just how I remembered. 

Her face was frozen in time, her memory held in one photo. I remember picking it. There were so many options, but this was my favorite photo of her. She looked so peaceful, so happy. It was so hauntingly beautiful. I knelt down and kissed my hand. I placed the kiss on her grave. This time I allowed the tears to fall. 

I remember it all so clearly. How could I forget when I see it every time I close my eyes? Those blinding red and blue lights will be burned into my mind for life. How can I forget when a piece of me was ripped away from my hands while I was defenseless. I remember the gut-wrenching feeling when they told me the news the day after I ran her out of the house. They told me Natalie had been killed by a drunk driver. Yet I still kept the porch light on for her. I still do.

That was the day I decided to get sober. What if I was the driver, and I killed someone’s Natalie? 

So here I am, for the first time since I buried my precious sister, begging her to save me once more. It’s selfish, I know. I just need her, I never stopped needing her. 

“Hello dear,” I froze at the sound of someone else’s voice. I reluctantly peeled my hand away from Natalie’s final resting place. I looked up at the old man. He wore a black jacket and a crooked bow tie. He held a small broom, scissors, and roses. He looked confused, but kind. His bright green eyes stared at me. They showed me a lifetime of memories. You could see his joy, his heartbreak, his mistakes, and wisdom. My breath caught in my throat. 

“Hello.” I stood slowly, wondering who this old man was. 

“Do you know Natalie?” He gestured to the grave with the roses before carefully kneeling down in front. 

“She’s my sister. Who are you?” I knelt down next to him.

“Yes, I see it now. She has your nose. I clean her grave and bring her flowers each month” The strange man gave me a funny look, almost as if he was judging me. I don’t blame him. Though maybe he was just trying to figure me out. I stared at him. Before I knew it, the tears were falling again.

“Thank you.” Despite not knowing this man, I threw my arms around him. He returned the hug with gentle hands. He didn’t let go until I did. I’m grateful. 

“What was she like?” He asked me as he began cleaning her grave. I took the scissors and trimmed the grass around it. 

“She was a once in a lifetime kind of person.” I sniffled, my thumb rubbed her picture as I smiled. 

“I know what that’s like. My wife was my once in a lifetime. What about you?” The sweet stranger stopped brushing the grave and looked at me. 

I hesitated for a moment, “I’m a terrible kind of person.”

“I don’t believe that,” He brushed away the grass I cut and smiled at our work.

“You don’t know me,” I flinched at my harsh tone. 

“You’re taking care of your sister with a stranger. You don’t sound too bad to me, dear.” He put a hand on my back. I looked at him again. His gray hair was softly moving in the breeze. His eyes found my own. Her eyes. 

“You remind me of her.” I spoke softly. He really did. A complete stranger comforting another stranger for no reason at all. His bright green eyes. His kind spirit. I watched as he placed the roses above her name. He arranged it so anyone passing by could see my beautiful sister. 

“Once in a lifetime?” He slowly stood up and offered his hand.

“Once in a lifetime.” I accepted his hand and he helped me up. Neither of us let go as we looked at Natalie.

“Who says you can’t be?” The old man gave my hand a soft squeeze. I furrowed my eyebrows. Who said I couldn’t?

“This time next month?” He held his little broom up. I handed him the scissors and nodded. I hugged him once more as thunder rolled on, and the rain finally began to fall. Natalie loved the rain. 

Was he my sign? Was this my reason to carry on? I let go.

“See you next month, Stranger.” I smiled. A real smile. It felt good. 

“Atticus.” He bowed his head.

“Katie.” I followed his lead.

“Take care, my dear.” Atticus took my hand and placed a kiss on my knuckle. 

I watched the kind old man walk away. When he disappeared over a hill, I turned back to Natalie as the rain soaked through my coat. 

“Thank you.” I knelt down again, not caring for the fresh mud soaking my knees. I kissed her photo. I made a note to buy a pair of my own scissors on my way home. 

I met Atticus every month. We talked about our girls, Natalie and his wife. She died when they were young, he never remarried, never had a family. Eventually we began to visit each other over tea. We carpooled once a month to see my sister. Atticus was special. He showed me I can be once in a lifetime, that I am worth saving. I no longer felt guilty. Instead I honored Natalie each day by staying strong. With nothing left, we took each other in. 

Then he got sick.

The rainy season came and went. Summer and everything in between followed. And then came the rain again.

 I held his hand with both of mine. He sat up in his hospital bed. 

“Thank you, Katie.” He looked up at me. Though he was dying, his eyes never looked more alive. I smiled, holding back the tears. 

“No, thank you.” I kissed his head. I watched him lay his head back and close his eyes. 

“I love you, dear.” He squeezed my hand. His breathing slowed. A moment later I heard the monitor give one long beep. I stayed until the nurses and doctors filed in. 

A week later, I found myself at Atticus’ grave. The rain pattered on the sidewalk. I smiled and placed the roses above his name, so anyone passing by could see the man who saved me. 

I’ve never been one for goodbyes. But really, who is? A goodbye is either a passing moment or a life sentence. The scary part is you never know when a goodbye will be your last. I don’t understand how some people don’t fear this, how they’re okay with leaving on a bad note. For me, all it took was one wrong last goodbye to cherish them all. To cherish every hello and goodbye with Atticus. 

I looked up at the sky, squinting as rain hit my face. I raised a hand and imagined Natalie reaching for it. I imagine Atticus planting a gentle kiss on my knuckle. I smile. Maybe Atticus and Natalie watch over me as they share tea like we used to. I hope so. I still leave the porch light on, for both of them.

My mind is clear. I stand there, letting the rain soak me. It washed away every bad thought, every ill intention, every bad memory long ago. I stand there, remembering the day Atticus found me. 

Is this peace?