Текст книги "Finding Me "
Автор книги: Mariah Dietz
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
“Beware lest you lose the substance by grasping at the shadow.”
–Aesop
Fitz rubs my shoulders and I take a deep breath while scrolling down to Kendall’s name. I’ve already called my mom and the rest of my sisters and apologized to them for leaving without so much as a warning, but I’ve saved Kendall for last, knowing that I’ve likely hurt her the most.
“Are you okay?” she asks after the second ring.
“I’m doing better. How are you?”
“I understand why you left, Ace. Max told me what happened.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that. I know I told you all to stop walking on egg shells and that I had grown, and wouldn’t do it again, I just needed to leave.”
“I know, and I’m not mad at you, I promise. I just miss you.”
“I miss you too,” I admit with a shaky breath. “I think right now I just need to focus on finding me. Realizing who I am and becoming comfortable with that.”
Fitz gives me a comforting squeeze and then moves to the kitchen.
“I just wish you could do that here. But I understand and I support you. I love you, and I will support you regardless of your choices, but I want you to know something about Max.”
“Okay…”
“He and Erin broke up. He told me he ended things with her the day that Fitz arrived, but had wanted to do it for a while. Jameson says he thinks he never even wanted to be with her and I know he’s right. I just want to make sure that you know.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yeah, I think he’s pretty relieved actually.” I let out a breath and roll my eyes to argue with her, but she beats me to it. “You shouldn’t hate him for her. I think when you left all of his insecurities about not being loved came crashing back, and I think he was desperate. He needed to be wanted, when really, he wanted to be needed.”
“I don’t hate him. I sometimes wish that I could.” I can feel Fitz’s curiosity from across the room where he’s now measuring my living room. Although he isn’t actually looking at me, he hasn’t moved a muscle since my admittance. “I need some dad advice. He was always so good at this stuff, you know?”
“You still have your letter, you should read it. Maybe it will help?”
“Maybe.” We both know my answer is a dismissal.
“I’m going to look at tickets tomorrow. I’ve got some time off in September, and this time, I’ll make the trek out to see you.”
“I’d like that,” I admit with a smile.
“I love you too, Ace.”
“I love you too.”
Fitz makes his way over to where I’m sitting on the floor and kneels beside me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders, he holds me. It’s like he knows it’s exactly what I need.
I begin my normal regime of seeing Kitty again on Wednesday afternoon. I spend the entire hour talking. She doesn’t have to prompt me for emotions or ask me how things make me feel, or why. I just talk. And talk. And talk. I start off by telling her about seeing my dad and how my mom and I have essentially smoothed things over. I tell her about Sarah’s miscarriage and how that triggered me from both the loss and being in the hospital. I tell her about Nate and what actually occurred that night. I talk through tears that I don’t make even the slightest attempt to hold back, realizing that my tears aren’t making me vulnerable or weak—they’re making me strong because I’m crying them knowing that things can, and will get better.
Not once within the hour does she interrupt me, or ask me to elaborate, or dissect the emotions that I list to her. She allows me to pause when I need to catch my breath and sort through my feelings and waits me to force myself to continue.
I end the session realizing that Kendall’s right. I have pushed things away that I don’t want to face, not always because I’m afraid, but because I don’t want to disappoint others, and in doing so I’ve managed to hurt those that I care about the most.
It’s a Saturday night and I’m wearing a deep purple cocktail dress adorned with a pair of heels that Fitz had convinced me to buy while we were in New York for Thanksgiving. They’re teal and have a peacock feather painted on the sides in deep purple hues. I loved them instantly and feel happy to finally be wearing them. I spend a little extra time on my appearance, pulling my hair into an updo, lining my eyes, and shading my eyelids. I haven’t spent this much time getting ready for anything in Delaware before, and feel a little excited to be taking a small step in allowing myself to move forward.
My doorbell rings at 7:50 p.m. and I slide my coat on before face Danny.
His blue eyes widen slightly as I pull the door fully open. He got back late last night from being in Oklahoma for the last week but had called and texted each day to touch base.
“You look amazing!” he says, his eyes dancing around me like they’re not sure what they want to continue looking at. “I mean, you’re always gorgeous, but you … wow. I don’t think I can be away from you for that long again.” He wraps me in his arms, and I feel the warmth of him emanate through his light green button down shirt.
“You look pretty great yourself.”
His dimples stamp deeper into his cheeks as his smile grows, and without hesitation he leans forward and kisses me. It takes me a beat to stop the guilt from rising through me, and then I kiss him back, allowing my lips to linger on his as my neighbor across the landing opens her door.
A fading bruise along his right cheek has my fingers gently tracing over the tender area, but he shakes his head and wraps his fingers around mine. “It’s nothing. I don’t care about any of it. I just want to focus on you tonight.”
This afternoon Fitz had come over and listened to me as I talked through each of my concerns about starting something with Danny when I’m obviously far from being over my feelings for Max. Fitz encouraged me to talk to Danny about everything since he knew about the breakup from the very beginning.
We head out to a beautiful French restaurant where Danny listens to me tell him about the trip, wincing occasionally when I mention my feelings toward Max, and when I admit that I slept beside him on the couch. He doesn’t get upset though. His face remains relaxed through most of my confession, expressing his patience.
“If you’re willing to try this, Harper, I’m in. I understand that you loved him, and that a part of you still does, but I think as time goes on, you’ll realize that I can love you more. I’ll make you forget him and all the pain he’s caused you.”
I want to explain that most of my pain has been self-inflicted, but hold my words, crediting that at least I’m able to acknowledge the fact.
“We can start slow. There’s no pressure. We’ll go at whatever pace you’re comfortable with.”
I reach forward and close my hand around his, and he brings it to his lips and places a soft kiss on the back of my hand before squeezing my fingers gently in his.
Things fall into a comfortable routine. Fitz accompanies me to pick out some living room furniture, a kitchen table, and even a new mattress and box spring. I order pictures to be enlarged and find a few prints to decorate my walls with. It’s still fairly scarce, but it’s improvement.
Kitty has started an aggressive diet that she complained mercilessly about for the first two weeks when I’d visit her each afternoon, prodding me with questions about what I ate, as she reluctantly swallowed more of the food that her husband, Jeff, shoved in front of her. However, a month later, things are improving slightly. The tumor hasn’t grown, and in fact shrank slightly, and she’s admitted to feeling less lethargic.
I’ve notified Mather’s Science and Technology that I won’t continue my work there after the end of this semester. Although science is something I will always love, I know that pursuing this avenue of science will never lead me to a feeling of fulfillment because it will never be able to bring me more days with my father and that the attempt to beat what killed him may very likely beat me in turn because I won’t be able to stop. Thus leading me to changing my major. Initially, I consider going into grief counseling because after the year that I’ve experienced, and my time with Kitty, I now realize how life changing they are, but I also know that I don’t have the right personality for it. I would love to help others overcome their sadness, but I know that I would likely drown in it myself.
Instead, I decide to stay in medicine and study where life begins. I want to become an obstetrician and celebrate life. I know that there will be difficult moments and times where things will occur like what Sarah experienced, but I feel more prepared for those moments and know that regardless of what happens, I will come out of it knowing that the world can be cruel, but it’s also filled with possibility and miracles.
I think that’s what drew me to Danny. I knew after dating Max, I’d never be able to date the Erics of the world again. Everyone was right. I had been dating the wrong type. I need someone that doesn’t seek out order or overthink every detail of life, because I already do that too much.
“It will be nice,” I agree, smiling as the front of his body brushes against my back. I lift the spoon from the pot and wait for the steam to dissipate as Danny takes a deep breath and groans.
“That smells so good.”
“Want to try it?”
“I’m dying to try it.”
I lift the spoon closer to him and the right side of his lips curl into a devious expression. He takes my free hand and swipes my index finger over the back of the spoon and then focuses his icy blue eyes on mine. They’re bright, dancing with excitement and lust, as he raises my finger and slides it into his mouth. A soft moan leaves his throat that has my heart racing.
His hand tightens on my waist and brings me closer to him and then his lips release my finger and fall to mine. I drop the spoon into the pot and trace my hands along his forearms, up to his biceps, where I clutch his shoulders and angle myself so I can deepen the kiss.
Danny moves me back a few awkward steps that has me nearly stumbling before he chuckles and pulls back for a moment to scoop an arm beneath my legs and another behind my shoulders. He carries me up the stairs to his bedroom.
Things have gradually gone farther and farther between us, and I can tell by Danny’s intense kiss and searching hands that grip my skin with desperation that if I want to stop things, I’ll need to do it soon. But his weight feels good against my body, and his fingers roaming over my skin make me question if I want him to stop.
His fingers slowly brush against my bare flesh and the rough calluses that cover his fingers and palms make goose bumps rise across my body with the familiarity that the feeling brings, but the touch is different. Where Danny’s is soft and gentle, like he’s almost afraid he’ll hurt me, Max’s was intense and desperate, like he needed to touch every last inch of my body, memorizing each and every detail of me as his hands had pressed into my skin and traced every last line.
My breathing turns broken as I try to focus my attention on something else. I reach my hands around Danny’s back and work his shirt up so I can peel it off. He pulls away with a grin and allows me to slide it off without helping. His skin is warm and smooth, wrapped around his taut muscles below my fingers that seem permanently cold here in Delaware, even now that it’s summer.
Danny’s lips glide along my jaw, down to my neck, missing the back of my ear, a spot Max used to focus on because he knew the effect it had on me. I open my eyes as the mental image of Max invades my thoughts and notice a bird sitting on a branch outside the window. It stares at me, cocking its head to the side. I can almost hear it asking me why I’m paying attention to it rather than the guy that’s just unlatched my bra.
I turn my head from the window and the judgmental bird and close my eyes again, focusing on the slight hint of desire racing through my limbs as Danny places a trail of kisses below my ribs.
Then I hear the rip of a motorcycle and with it I suddenly feel my arms wrapped around Max’s waist, the warmth of the sun on my bare arms from when we rode to the park together and feel his thumb brushing mine as we sat next to each other and finally professed our feelings. My thoughts move to the sight of him following me to my apartment on his motorcycle with the street lamps along the interstate dancing over him, as if they too were anxious to touch him and disappointed to let him go.
My eyes open again and Danny’s propped up on his arms on either side of my shoulders, staring down at me.
“Where’d you go, H?”
Before I can respond, tears cloud my eyes and I close them in defeat.
“Babe, it’s okay. What’s wrong?”
“I’m going to hurt you,” I whisper. “I’ve already hurt you.”
“I’ll wait. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give.”
“I don’t have anything left to give.” I take a deep breath. “You deserve everything. You deserve someone that is going to give you every single ounce of themself to you. Every smile, every laugh, every thought, every hope, and every tear, because you’re worth every piece.”
Danny places his forehead to mine, and we quietly breathe each other’s air.
“I wish I had met you first.”
My throat constricts as more tears run hot trails down my temples. I nod silently, wishing he had too in a way. I wish I could love Danny as completely and consuming as I had Max, but I also know that if I hadn’t met Max first, there’s a chance I never would have had the strength to survive this year because he helped me learn so much about myself before I even realized it.
We lie in silence until Danny stands up and I follow him, my head throbbing as I reach for his hand, knowing that this is the last time I’ll hold it. A strangled cry rips from my throat as I clutch tighter to him.
Danny seems to understand this too as he wraps his arm around my shoulders and presses me to him. Still holding my hand, he wraps his elbow around the back of my neck and holds me as I cry.
After a while, he walks me downstairs and outside, still seeming as reluctant as I am to let me go.
“I love you, Danny. I wish that was enough.”
“Me too,” he whispers against my lips before he presses his mouth to mine.
I try with every last ounce of effort to give my heart to him.
But I can’t.
I’m learning your mind can’t force your heart to love anyone, regardless of how perfect they are and how much you want to. Max taught me that before I even understood it, when my heart willingly gave itself to him.
“How are you feeling, Harper?”
“Drained.”
“Because you’re still feeling guilty about Danny?”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to give me emotions?”
Kitty gives me a half smile and sets her pen down.
“I’ve been wondering what my dad would say. What his advice to me would be.”
“What do you think he’d say?”
“I don’t know,” I admit in a whisper. “I think I’m forgetting him because I have no idea what he’d say.” I use my knuckle to wipe away a tear. “I’m forgetting him and it terrifies me.”
“Harper, you aren’t forgetting him. You’re living your life. That’s what he would have wanted, trust me. I know that I’m going to die, and when I do, I don’t want you, or my children, or Jeff to constantly focus on my memory, feeling guilty for living because I’m not. I want you to live. Even if you get one hundred years on this beautiful planet, it still goes too fast. You must live in the present, live for today and the future. Live because your dad can’t. You owe him that respect. Remember his love and carry that with you for the rest of your life, but let the guilt and the fear go, Harper, otherwise you’re not living; you’re merely surviving.”
Tears course down my cheeks and my nose runs as her words hit me.
“You need to open his letter and get some closure.”
“I think for a really long time I thought Max would wait for me. I know that’s selfish and probably even childish, but I guess I just hoped this would all get sorted out somehow and things would go back to normal.”
“There are very few things in this world that we can consider normal. Life is not one of them.”
“I just miss him. I still miss him.”
“Because you don’t feel that you can be yourself without him?”
“Because I feel like he brought out a better side of me. He introduced me to things I never would have ever done on my own.”
“The crazy situations?” she asks, brushing her skirt out as her legs cross.
“Yeah, I mean I did things with Max that I never would have done.”
“Harper, I want you to think about that story you told me about skinny dipping, TP’ing your neighbor’s house with Kendall, and moving out to Delaware. Those aren’t things many people would do because they’re scary. You have the strength to do crazy. You’ve had it all along. Max just helped you recognize it.”
I wake from another nightmare. They returned shortly after I returned to Delaware. I pad out to my living room and rather than sitting on my new couch, I sit on the floor beside a large box marked Dad and slowly open the flaps. I sift through things that elicit both tears and laughter.
I call Fitz when I pull out my letter. He’s sat through far too many of my tears over the last several weeks as I’ve worked to recover from losing Danny, but he willingly comes again when I call and ask him to help me read my letter because I’m finally ready.
My fingers tremble as I carefully open it so that I don’t tear it or create any creases. My chin quivers and my eyes fill with tears as the papers unfold. His hand writing feels like a sentiment, like he left a small piece of himself here with me.
Dear Ace,
Some years these letters are so difficult to write because there’s so much going on, I can’t even fathom not being around. It was your mother’s idea to begin writing to you girls each year with the unlikely chance that something ever happens to one or both of us and we’re not there to say goodbye. In your first letter I wrote an entire page on how that came to be, so if you’re actually reading this and want to know more, you’ll find all of your letters in your safe deposit box at the bank. Likely this letter will join the others at the end of the year, adding to the stack that one day, far, far in the future, I hope you’ll enjoy looking back and reminiscing all the good times we’ve shared.
On the rare instance something has indeed happened and you’re reading this letter, I’m sorry, Ace. I’m so sorry.
My eyes flood with so many tears I have to move the letter back so they can’t fall and obscure the ink. I let out a deep breath and feel Fitz’s hand travel across my shoulders with quiet assurance before my eyes continue.
Know that regardless of what happens, you will never be alone. Your sisters and your mom and I love you with every fiber of our beings. Not only will you always have the Bosse women to fall back on, but you have Kyle and Caulder, and now Max.
Chills break out across my skin and a small cry makes it hard for me to breathe.
This is one of those years that it’s so difficult for me to try and articulate everything I want to say because I’m so excited to see what will happen in the next couple of years. Watching you fall in love for the first time this last year has been one of my greatest joys. I’m thrilled to see what you’ll decide to study in school, and how you’re going to leave your mark on this world, because believe me, Ace, you already have, and it’s just going to continue to get bigger.
Previous years, I’ve always tried to fill these letters with my favorite memories from the last year, and so here it goes. My favorite memories of Ace at the end of 19 and beginning of 20:
Getting to see you complete your first year of college. I know it was hard for you to leave home and experience this journey, yet you never once voiced your concerns. You’re so strong and watching you grow and become so close with Abby made me realize that although you’ll always be my youngest, you certainly aren’t my baby anymore.
Going to France. True, this makes the list nearly every year, but I love sharing my history with you girls, and although it was only the three of us that went this year, I loved getting to spend extra time with both of you and seeing everything that we did. No matter how many times we go into Notre Dame, the significance never pales, and I always seem to find a newly magnificent piece when we visit the Louvre.
Watching you fall in love with Max. This was one of the hardest and best things for me; because I watched you struggle with your fears and trying to appease everyone. I had to fight not to tell you what you should be doing and allow you to come to the realization on your own. You did it perfectly, Ace. Every step of the way, you did it all perfectly, at your own pace, and at your own comfort level. You followed your heart. When did you get so wise?
Savannah having baby Sawyer on your birthday. I may be becoming a sap in my old age, but I swear, I saw visions of the future watching you and Max holding her.
Seeing your strength and knowing that regardless of what happens you’re going to be able to do the right thing.
Now it’s time for the advice portion of my letter. The words I wish to impart on you that you will make an earnest effort to consider.
I have to pause and read through the beginning of his letter once again, slower this time, picturing each item he has described on the list. The advice portion of this letter is what I’ve been seeking, yet it hurts that I’m so close to it already being over. I take a deep breath and hear my father’s voice as I continue.
I’ve constantly struggled over this with your letters over the years but, it’s always scared me a lot more than it does this year for several reasons, but to the same point, this year you have something much larger to potentially lose and therefore I feel horrified at the prospect. Take a deep breath and finish by drinking something strong. I hope it helps.
If, God forbid, you’re reading this, Max has probably let you go.
A fresh course of chills sear my skin, and I reread the sentence several times before quietly whispering, “What?”
Knowing how much he loves you, I’m sure it was very difficult for him, and he’s currently cursing my grave asking me “what now?” while you continue on your journey, seeking out answers to questions you don’t have.
You’ll never be able to answer all of the questions that life throws at you. All you can do is enjoy what you’re given, and make the very best of it, so I’m going to tell you, it’s time to go home Ace.
I pause and feel my brows furrow as I look up at Fitz.
“What?”
“He knew. He knows. How in the hell did he know?”
“Know what?”
“That I’d leave.” I push the letter toward him. “He knew I’d leave if something ever happened to him. He knew that Max would let me go. How in the hell did he know?”
“Did you finish?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Keep reading.”
I know you’ll be hurting and be in a difficult place, but you need him, Ace. This last year you found someone you love even more than you love me, and although it was difficult for me to accept at first, I’m relieved you did. Max is your home now and that’s where you belong. I know I’m telling my twenty-year-old daughter and her free, independent spirit to go running into the arms of a guy with tattoos and a motorcycle … Who knew this day would come? But in all honesty, we know he’s a lot more than that. Max has a heart of gold and he loves you more than all of the stars in the sky.
Life is going to be filled with hurdles that test our strengths, but ultimately, it’s a celebration—a journey. Don’t stop because it hurts, or because it’s scary; pain and fear already take too much, don’t give them more. Fight to be happy, Ace. Fight to see the good, because it is always there if you look deep enough. Fight for life. And always, fight for love.
Finish your journey, and then go home. There’s another letter for you when you get there. Go tell Clementine you’re ready.
Save travels,
All of my love,
Dad
PS
I hope you’re reading this at eighty, sitting beside Max and laughing at the prospect of you ever leaving.
PPS
Please don’t ride on the motorcycle.
I read the letter six times and then look up at Fitz.
“I’m twenty-one. It took me over a year to read his letter.”
“It doesn’t matter, H. What matters is you need to go.” His brown eyes are heavy with pain, and his lips are tight as he smiles at me, but his fingertips squeeze around my forearm and he nods and I slowly nod in response.
“I do.”
“What can I do to help?”
I throw my arms around Fitz and clutch him so tightly it hurts. “I want to take you with me.”
“Don’t worry, you can’t get rid of me this easy. We’ll keep in touch, and visit, and get you back on those social networks so you can post daily pictures for me.”
I laugh and shake my head as a tear rolls down my cheek. The letter seems to have revealed something that I already knew: California is where I belong. But leaving hurts, and saying goodbye is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done because I know I won’t be back.
Fitz and I spend the night packing things into boxes and periodically venturing over to one another for a hug.
After I finish filling a box from the bathroom, I find him asleep on the couch I finally bought. I pull the blanket from across the back to cover him, and look over the array of boxes around my small apartment. I thought with coming to Delaware I was running from those I cared about most so life would be easier, less complicated, painless. Who knew I would manage to find one of the best friends I could have ever imagined and a mentor that I’ll be leaving before she possibly leaves me and the rest of the world permanently.
I sag onto my new bed and pull out my phone. It’s after two in the morning. Although I have the urge to call Kitty and tell her while all of my emotions are still fresh and raw, I know she needs her rest in order to keep fighting her own battles, so I plug my phone in and close my eyes for one of my last nights in Delaware.
