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Before: We Regret to Inform You


Nick

"DID YOU KICK HIS ASS?!" Rochelle's voice was desperate. I didn't even know she was on the line - though why I didn't expect it at this point is beyond me - until she'd yelled.

"No," I answered. "I just brought the club soda to Ashley and that was it really."

"Fuck that's anticlimatic," AJ muttered.

"Sorry I'm not as exciting as you'd like," I replied.

Rochelle broke in again, "Nick you cannot put this off any longer. Chris sounds like he's getting really controlling of her."

"Yeah dude you gotta hit that before it's got a ring on it," AJ intoned.

"I've been trying to tell her for almost an entire year now," I said, "It's harder than it sounds! I don't wanna do it wrong and come off stupid..."

Rochelle cried out, "How do you wanna do it? Running down the center of the aisle screaming marry me instead Ashley?"

"Like that Taylor Swift song," AJ said.

"Trust me, you don't wanna pull that shit, it's not attractive," Rochelle said.

AJ started singing, "I am not the kinda girl who should be rudely barging in on a white veil occassion but..."

"You need to tell her like now. They're getting married in less than a month, Nick!"

"I'm aware," I replied.

"Yooou are not the kinda boooyyy who should be marrying the wrooong giiiirrrl..."
"Well seriously."

AJ was still singing.

There was a knock at my door and I got up from the couch and, carrying the phone with me, headed out to answer it. "It's just really hard. She's so pretty. I look at her and my tongue turns to dust or something."

"You need to try harder," Rochelle said, and she launched into telling me hints and tips, but I was opening the door and didn't hear her. Ashley was on the other side, and she was in tears.

"I gotta go," I said, and without waiting for Rochelle to answer or AJ to stop singing, I hung up the phone and shoved it into my pocket. "Ashley," I said. I looked around, there was no cabs, no cars, she'd come here on foot. She was dressed in her exercise clothes, I guessed she'd gone running. I ushered her into the house, "What's wrong?"

"He's dead," she sobbed.

"What? Who? What's wrong?"

Ashley shoved an envelope into my hand. It was all crunched up, she must've had it balled in her fist all the way over here. It was that weird orangey color and it was addressed to her with a stamped-on seal from the Witchata State Prison. "Your father?" I asked, pulling out the letter.

"He killed himself," she sobbed.

I stared down at the words on the page. Regret to inform you.... suicide....

"Holy fuck," I breathed.




Ashley

I'd gotten the letter while Chris was at work and I hadn't really noticed it at first. I'd tossed it and the rest of the mail onto the table, I'd done a load of laundry and watched You Got Mail on cable. Then I'd looked through the mail, paid a couple bills, and come across it. And there it was, in black and white, final, unerasable knowledge that my father, who I'd only just found, had killed himself.

Any chance I had once had of forgiving him, of ever being a part of his life or vice versa, it was all gone in just two short paragraphs and the barely legible signature of some officer.

I'd run all the way to Nick's. My feet were killing me. I could barely breathe. Nick sat me down in his kitchen at the breakfast bar and got me a glass of water. He pushed it across the table to me, and put the Brita pitcher from his fridge next to it so I could refill.

I don't know why it was striking me so hard. I felt dizzy and utterly alone. More alone than I'd felt in years and years and years, since I was a little kid, and I realized how much it hurt that Nick hadn't been around a lot in the last three months. It was like there was an organ missing from my body, like my heart or stomach or esophogus or kidneys were ripped out. I looked at Nick, "Don't you ever dare die," I said.

"I won't," he answered.

But even as he said it I knew he couldn't keep the promise.

He sat down next to me. "I'm sorry," he said. The letter lay there on the counter where he'd put it when he got the pitcher out of the fridge. I stared at it.

"I don't know why it hurts so much that he's dead," I said honestly, voicing a thought I'd had a few times during my run across the city to Nick's house, one that I felt profoundly guilty for having, "It's not like he was a part of my life. I didn't even know him a year ago. Didn't even know if he existed."

Nick shrugged, "It hurts when you lose family, whether you're close or not."

I leaned over and he wrapped his arm around me and I closed my eyes, "I can't believe it."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

I closed my eyes. "I know he was in jail, I know he was horrible and that it wasn't happening, but I still ...I thought he would... I don't know. I guess I was still imagining that some miracle would happen, that he'd be able to walk me down the aisle... and I know that's ridiculous," I couldn't explain what I was feeling.

"It's okay," Nick said thickly.

"I don't have anybody to walk me down the aisle," I sobbed.

Nick was quiet for a long moment. "I'll walk you," he said.

I looked up at him.

"I mean, I'm already your maid of honor, I might as well walk you down the aisle..."

"You'd do that for me?" I asked.

He nodded.

I felt fuzzy inside, I felt loved. It was a different kind of love than what I felt when Chris said he loved me. It was much deeper or something, much warmer.

"Thank you, Nick," I said thickly.

He nodded.

I swiped the tears at my eyes. I took a wobbly breath. "I swear if I ever have a kid I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that she -- or he if I have a boy -- will have her father to walk her down the aisle, because man this sucks so bad..." I sniffed. "Kids deserve better than broken families, or no families at all."

"I know," Nick said.

"I wish my life on no one," I said.

Nick hugged me. "I don't think you've had all that horrible a life. I mean..." he grinned, "You've had me for almost 27 years... right?"

"You think that's a good thing?" I joked.

Nick grinned. "Hey lady there's some that would kill to switch with you if you're tired of me."

I squeezed my arms around him. "No," I answered, "I like it right here."

He rubbed my arm, "I like you right there, too," he answered.