I Wish You Goodbye

By JT Adeline

It had all began with a handheld mirror. Now, at the age of fifteen, Skylar Montgomery has to do what he promised and wish his mom goodbye.

He never imagined life without the only parent he had. He misses her so much he swears he can smell the lavender lotion she used, hear her voice and feel her presence. Even with his grandparents at his side, he doesn’t know how he will make it through each day without her. But, he knows his mom died with a secret, and he’s almost positive it’s about his dad.

Ryan Kelley never imagined a letter from his longtime friend, Savannah Montgomery, was to tell him she’s dying and they share a son. He doesn’t expect the anger from Savannah’s dad, James, when he shows up at their home unannounced, and when he meets his son for the first time finds it shocking at their almost identical resemblance. He missed fifteen years of his son’s life and doesn’t plan to miss any more.

Reed Russell’s life started in foster care. He never had friends until he met Skylar in third grade, and struggles knowing Ryan won’t let Skylar stay with his grandparents. His mood continues to sour at how naïve his friend is in thinking life won’t change. How could his friend be so stupid?

Can Skylar open his heart to let his dad and his dad’s family in without losing his best friend and the cherished memories of his mom?

What are you waiting for—don’t you want to find out?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melange Books, LLC
• Release date: Jun 14, 2022
• ISBN: 9781955784825

JT Adeline

Growing up in the seventies and eighties, video games were played at an Arcade and the Wide World of Disney played a different movie every Sunday for families to enjoy. Large families were not uncommon and an imagination was encouraged. I remember mostly playing hide and seek with my two brothers and three sisters, and going to the local library for story hour with my mom. This is where my love of books began. I loved to walk between the rows and rows of books at the library, looking through as many books as I could before picking out my favorites to take home with me.I remember receiving a notebook in Elementary School where I wrote my first stories, and as I got older writing my own version to books I had read. Then one day I heard a quote in reference to writing, and a new goal in life began.‘If you wake up in the morning and all you can think about is writing, then you are meant to be writer.’It has been a long journey, with many rejection letters and giving up, until the day my sister sent me a newspaper clipping for a meeting of local writers at her library. I stepped out of my protective bubble and crashed the meeting. I ended up sitting next to the one person who welcomed me into Fire and Ice.I am a true Minnesotan, born and raised. I share my life with my husband of twenty-five years and two grown sons. If I am not writing you can usually find me in my art room, spending time with family, or outside with my beloved American Bulldog, Mylo.I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it; A Day as Dark as Night is the first book of the Dark as Night trilogy, and my first published work. I assure you it will not be my last.

Book preview

CHAPTER

ONE

Two weeks later

---

Grace Montgomery stands at the living room window of her home in Blue Heron Crest Community on the outskirts of Hudson, Wisconsin. She dabs at her eyes with a wet handkerchief as she watches her grandson working around the circular garden, with the ten-year-old maple tree he and his mom planted on his fifth birthday. Usually, on Mother’s Day, Savannah and Skylar planted flowers around this tree—violas and pansies for Savannah, snapdragons and sweet Williams for Skylar. Today, her grandson works around the garden in the unusually warm April day, upturning the soil with a shovel, his muscles straining with the effort.

April is a little early to be prepping the garden. James places his large gentle hands onto her shoulders and gives them a squeeze.

Grace sniffs and wipes her eyes. He’s angry, James. I’ve tried talking to him. He only says he’s okay and leaves it at that.

James pulls her back against his broad chest and she breathes in the familiar scent of shaving cream. He’s grieving, Grace, and a fifteen-year-old shouldn’t have to grieve the loss of a parent.

What else can we do to help him?

Join him.

What if he wants to do this alone?

That’s just too bad. We’re all grieving and that boy has spent an awful lot of time alone lately. He gently steers her away from the window and takes her hand.

His hand is rough and calloused in hers as she allows James to lead her out the front door and to the side of the house. The almost seventy-degree weather feels good on her face as they round the corner. Skylar mops at his brow with a black and white bandana, the shovel propped against his side.

Are you finished for the day? James asks.

Almost. Skylar stuffs the bandana back into his pocket, his gray shirt lined with sweat and his black cargo shorts streaked with dirt. He seems so much taller now, surpassing her five-foot-four frame by at least three inches, and the top of his head nose level with his grandfather’s six-foot frame.

He crouches in front of a white plastic bag and props it open on the ground, drawing something out. Skylar holds the fishing wire in between his fingers, reaches up, and slips the wire over a healthy, bare branch.

Grace gently takes the lavender winged crystal angel in between her fingers as Skylar removes something else from the bag and shoves it into the ground. Grace’s breath catches, and tears fill her eyes, as she reads the engraved words on the four-by-six cherry wood; I Wish You Goodbye. Oh, Skylar, it’s beautiful. When did you make it?

Skylar runs his finger over the words. I made it in shop class a week before Mom died. I could hear classmates asking each other what it meant. I didn’t have the heart to tell them.

James clears the lump in his throat. When you go back to school next week, maybe you will get the chance.

Yeah, maybe. Skylar gets slowly to his feet, rubbing his soiled hands up and down the front of his shorts. He lifts sad eyes before doing what Grace thought he did in private; he turns into their inviting arms and cries.

Skylar rolls defrosted chicken thighs in flour and herbs just like his mom had taught him, and arranges them on a large cookie sheet. He glances around Geema’s inviting kitchen as he works at the center island. The walls are a bold barn red with white curtains framing the windows that never block out the sun. White appliances flank the oak cabinets and spotless white countertops decorated with only a white Keurig coffee pot and a smiling Pillsbury Dough Boy cookie jar.

Geema’s at the stove prepping asparagus to roast in the oven while humming some catchy old-time tune Skylar knows will remain in his head for the remainder of the evening. Soft chatter wafts in through the doorway from the TV in the living room, until the doorbell rings.

Would you mind getting the door, Skylar? Geepa calls from the living room.

After washing his hands, he looks questioningly at Geepa sitting in his favorite chair as he walks past, and pulls the front door open, only to be surprised when finding his best friend since third grade standing with his parents.

Hey. Skylar steps to the side while receiving a pat on his shoulder from Reed’s dad, and a caress on his cheek from his friend’s mom. What’re you doing here?

We’re invited for chicken dinner. Reed smirks, following Skylar into the kitchen.

Skylar picks up the cookie sheet only for Geema to remove it from his hands.

You and Reed are free to go until dinner is ready.

I need to clean up the counter. He tries walking around her, but she only continues to block his path.

Reed’s mom places the washcloth into the soapy water in the sink. I’ll take care of that, you two scoot.

The pirate ship is probably due in, Reed says, following Skylar to the backdoor and outside. They only get one chance shoving us onboard.

Skylar laughs and lets the screen door slap closed. He heads to the weather-beaten picnic table in the backyard, sits on it, and watches as his friend picks a long weed to place between his teeth.

Reed Russel is a one-of-a-kind friend who would get into a lot of trouble without Skylar around. His black hair is as out of control as always, sticking up in random places as if he just climbed out of bed, his ice blue eyes looking across the yard. Reed usually acts on impulse, not thinking of the outcome of most things he does, and Skylar has pulled him out of many near-jams in their six-year friendship.

So, are you coming back to school soon or do I have to keep dealing with the Standards without you?

Skylar snorts. ‘The Standards’ are Reed’s expectations for a teacher to answer any and all questions thrown at them, even if the majority of them come from Reed himself. Yeah, I’ll be back on Monday.

Good, then I won’t have to hog-tie you, drag you with me tonight and hold you captive until then. He snatches up another weed and begins twisting it into knots. I have to tell you something. He glances up, his usual devilish grin missing. You have to understand, I didn’t mean to get into trouble. I just wasn’t myself without you around.

Skylar scoffs, leaning his forearms onto his thighs. You’re always getting into trouble.

Reed tosses the knotted weed into the yard, and then picks another. This time it’s different.

Whatever you did can’t be that bad.

Oh, contraire. Reed sighs, taking a seat next to Skylar, removing the weed from his teeth. Do you remember how I joked about Ms. Stevens and Mr. Thompson needing to hook up with each other?

Skylar raises one brow. Yeah.

Reed runs a hand through his black hair, making it stand up even more. You know I’ve always admired technology. You can send a text message to anyone and they receive it in the blink of an eye. He pauses and looks at Skylar through his thick eyelashes. Are you aware there is a student in our grade with the name of Stacy Stevens, the same as Ms. Stevens?

Reed, what did you do?

I peeked at school files…

You mean you hacked into the school files.

Reed cringes. Hacked seems overly unlawful since I only borrowed two phone numbers and really meant no harm.

How many grades did you change?

Yours or mine? Reed’s grin barely reaches his eyes. "Just kidding. I didn’t touch either of our school records. I simply borrowed Mr. Thompson’s cell number and what I thought was Ms. Stevens cell number and sent a—I guess you could call it a love text—from one to the other through the computer not aware it was going to the student and not the teacher. Before the end of the day, cop cars pulled in front of school. I over-heard some friends of Stacy Stevens, the student, talking about how Stacy’s dad had come in with the police and Mr. Thompson was arrested."

Both of Skylar’s brows shoot upward and he clamps his mouth closed.

I walked right out of fourth hour and went to Ms. Stevens and told her everything. She walked with me to Mr. Monroe’s office and stayed with me until my parents arrived. A detective came and I had to show him the computer I used, and proof I sent out the texts. Mr. Thompson was released into the waiting arms of his wife.

Skylar cringes.

I’m grounded until I’m thirty-five with only being able to leave my house to come to yours. Reed moves from the table to pick at some rocks on the ground and chucks them at unforeseen enemies in the lawn as they did when they were younger. Mr. Thompson refused to press charges and spoke with Stacy’s parents, asking them not to as well. After a meeting with Mr. Monroe, my parents, and Stacy’s, they were able to come up with a punishment for me at school so I wouldn’t have to stand before a judge, or be sent to a juvenile detention center as everyone expects.

Not everyone expects you to end up in juvie, Reed.

Reed places a foot onto the picnic bench. I know, Sky. I’m not trying to sound corny or anything, but I’m thankful every day you moved here when you did. He gazes at Skylar, his eyes sad. "You didn’t deserve what was handed to you, and I’m sorry if I’m making it sound like it’s your fault I screwed up."

Shaking his head, Skylar clears his throat where a knot has suddenly lodged itself. I’d never take it that way, Reed—you know that. After all, I saved you from an impending life behind bars.

Reed smiles and snickers. Ah, there’s still time for my future imprisonment, but thanks for saving me now. He laughs, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. But seeing I did mess up, I have to face the consequences. My parents agreed they would supervise me while on the internet at home, and while at school I remain under the direct supervision of a staff member until the end of the year, one that will sit next to me until you come back.

What happens when I come back? Skylar’s almost afraid to hear the answer.

Thanks to my mom and Mr. Thompson, my free period changes to coincide with yours—since you’re capable of keeping me out of trouble.

But my free period is in the computer lab.

An apologetic grin appears on Reed’s face. Not anymore.

What is it now?

Creative Writing.

Skylar shrugs. I can deal with that.

Thanks, man. Reed’s eyes dart from the house and back to Skylar. I’m going to ask you something now, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I’m seriously working on my people skills. How are you doing—for real? I don’t remember my biological mom so I can’t say I know how you feel, but I do know if something happened to the parents I have now, I’d say I’d feel pretty lost and torn up.

Skylar gazes across the lawn at the neighbor’s house, partially hidden behind some trees. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to describe how I’m feeling, and that’s an accurate description. He pauses, and Reed retakes his seat next to him. There’s times I swear I hear my mom’s voice, her laugh. I swear I feel her beside me when I’m sitting in my room alone. A tear escapes and Skylar leaves it as it runs down his face. There’s times I can’t stop crying because I’m so angry at God for taking her away. And there are times I’m angry at Mom for leaving me.

I’m guessing those are normal responses, Sky.

It’s not Mom’s fault. Skylar swipes at tears. She didn’t ask to get cancer.

She’s the only parent you had. Why wouldn’t you be angry?

Skylar sniffs. She died with a secret, Reed.

Reed’s head turns toward him. What do you mean?

Shortly before she died, Geema and Geepa told me to tell her when she woke that they hadn’t heard anything. They wouldn’t elaborate on what that meant.

Have you asked them about it?

No.

Do you have any ideas on what it could mean?

Skylar swipes angrily at more tears. I think it has something to do with my dad.

"Your dad? You’ve never mentioned him before. Who is he?"

Skylar shrugs. I don’t know. I asked once and my mom changed the subject. I’ve never needed to ask again. Mom was all I ever needed and Geepa filled the void of not having a dad.

Are you going to ask your grandparents about him?

Maybe.

I can be here, if you need someone else here. I could stay in another room while you talk to them so they don’t feel ganged up on, give you some moral support.

Thanks, Reed. Appreciate the offer.

Anytime. He picks another weed. You think dinner is ready yet? These weeds offer no nutritional value and taste terrible.

Skylar laughs, joining him. Smells like it should be ready soon. How about we shoot some hoops while we wait?

Sure. At least the leather will be more filling if I get too impatient.

Skylar snorts. C’mon. We’ll play horse.

Why not pig? It won’t take as long.

But then you’d be hungry for bacon.

Oh, man. You had to say that, didn’t you? Just for that, I’m doing the impossible shot.

You never make the impossible shot, Reed. That’s why it’s impossible.

Not today it isn’t. He leads the way around the side of the garage to the driveway.

Blue Heron Crest High looms ahead of him. Skylar repositions his backpack, slows his steps and looks to the ground.

You okay? Reed asks from beside him.

It feels like eyes are staring at me.

That’s because they are.

Skylar guffaws. You were supposed to reassure me that they weren’t.

Sorry. You know how hard I work at being truthful.

Skylar snorts.

Oh, c’mon. Reed playfully punches him in the shoulder. You know I try, right?

It’ll make your mom proud.

Yeah, Reed answers without his usual joviality. It will.

You don’t have to be like that, Reed, Skylar says. My mom is gone, but yours isn’t. It’s okay to say things about her.

I don’t want you to feel bad.

It’ll make me feel worse if you don’t.

Noted. Reed holds the door open for him and he steps inside.

It feels like being the new kid all over again. Student’s conversations stop as he passes, girls looking as if they’re going to cry, and teachers come out of their doorways to coax students inside and nod at him as he passes. Skylar grasps onto the thumbprint necklace his grandparents gave him early this morning with I wish you goodbye inscribed on the back. He moves his thumb and finger over the grooves, his eyes darting between the floor and the flood of students he needs to walk through.

Reed suddenly stops and those behind them quickly walk around. I have to meet the counselor before and after school.

Oh. Okay.

I can walk you to your locker and come back, I’m sure Mr. Turner will be cool with it.

Nah, it’s okay. I have to do it sometime, might as well be now.

I’ll see you in third hour, okay?

Skylar nods. Yeah, see ya then. He fists bumps his friend before turning back down the hall. It feels weird now, without Reed and his support. He draws his backpack from off his shoulder as he nears his locker and stops dead in his tracks when he sees Alycia Collins standing in front of it. Dang, she’s pretty.

She smiles, her straight black hair trailing over one shoulder, her almond-shaped eyes so brown they look black. Welcome back, Skylar.

Thanks.

She steps away from his locker. Sorry. I just wanted to welcome you back and say if you need anything, let me know.

Thanks, Alycia. I appreciate that.

The bell rings and she tightens her grip on her books. Well, I should get to homeroom unless you need some help getting situated?

No, I uh...I got it. Thanks though.

No problem. She lifts a hand. See you later, Skylar.

Yeah, see ya. He slowly turns to his locker, places his hand onto the lock, and suddenly can’t remember the combination. It’s going to be a long day.

The day had been filled with staring and sympathetic eyes, and more pats on the back he could ever remember receiving. Skylar leans against the stone banister at the bottom of the front steps of the school, extracting his cellphone from his front pocket and tapping on Geema’s name so he can text her that he’ll be a few minutes late.

Oh good. I didn’t miss you.

Skylar glances up in time to see Alycia jogging down the steps and stopping beside him. His heart picks up its pace.

I’m glad I caught you.

Skylar glances beside him to see he’s still alone while she reaches into her backpack, extracting a notebook.

I forgot to give you my phone number. If you need any help catching up on English or History class, just give me a call. She tears off the corner of the page, folds it and reaches it out to him.

His cellphone vibrates with a text message as he stares at the paper, then at her.

Her cheeks pink on her pretty face. If you don’t want it…

Sorry, yes, I do. He takes it gingerly from her fingers and holds it like it’s a piece of glass. That’s nice of you, Alycia. Thanks.

You’re welcome. She glances up the steps and smiles, flipping her long shiny black hair over her shoulder. I should go, call me if you need help with anything.

Okay. He watches her leave, his fingers tightly grasping the torn off corner of notebook paper.

Gone for two weeks and Alycia Collins gives you her phone number. Reed saunters down and pats Skylar heartedly on the shoulder. My man, you have to tell me your secret.

Skylar only stares at the paper.

Oh, sure, don’t share your secret. When Skylar doesn’t answer, Reed comes around and stands in front of him. What’s wrong Sky?

It’s…um…it’s the first time a girl has given me her phone number.

Reed runs his hand over his face. Well, crap. He throws an arm around Skylar’s shoulders. C’mon. Let’s get you home.

It isn’t far, only a quarter of a mile, and with the walk being silent, it seems to take longer than it normally does. Skylar can smell cookies as they near and feels a moment of regret. Geema had spent the day making his favorite cookies, and he wasn’t going to be able to enjoy any of them. Reed doesn’t stop at the driveway as usual but pushes Skylar straight up the porch stairs and yanks open the screen door.

Geepa comes out of the kitchen doorway grinning as he bites into a chocolate chip cookie. His smile quickly drops and he rushes toward them. What happened?

It’s… Skylar drops his backpack onto the floor at his feet, the words he wants to say getting choked up inside his throat.

James? Geema steps into the doorway with a plate of cookies in her hand. She quickly places it on the counter in the kitchen. Reed, what happened?

Alycia gave him her phone number.

Who’s Alycia? Geepa asks and Geema elbows him.

It’s the first time, isn’t it?

I know it’s silly…

Nonsense, Skylar, Geema interrupts, taking him