Holly began making her list. At the top of the page she wrote, Megan’s Ritual. Her hand shook as she wrote the names of the attendees: Olivia, Peter, Jack. She didn’t need a list, she realized. These were the only people who mattered. These were the people who loved Megan and had been her world. Beneath the names she began to scrawl a list of necessities. After the third item, she put down her pen and held her face in her hands. What am I doing? I can’t do this! Holly crumbled the paper and threw it on the ground.
“Holly?” Olivia was concerned when she walked into the den and found Holly with tears falling down her cheeks and trembling hands. “Are you okay?” she asked.
“Mm-hm,” she managed as she wiped her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Olivia stood a few feet from Holly in her bathing suit top and shorts, not sure if she should move closer. “Is it Mom?” she asked quietly.
“No, baby, it’s not your mom. It’s me.” I was such a fool!
Olivia stood in silence, unsure of what to do. If it had been her mother who was sad, she would have tried to pry out of her what was going on, but she wasn’t sure what to do with Holly.
She didn’t need to know. Holly stood up and said, “Are we ready?” as if she had been fine when Olivia found her.
“Sure. If you’re sure it’s still okay,” Olivia asked, wondering if Holly was upset because of something she had done.
When Holly walked out of the room to find Jack, Olivia retrieved the crumpled paper and cautiously opened it. She could feel the air being sucked out of the room as she read, Megan’s Ritual. Olivia knew it was coming and had wondered how soon they might do it, but somehow the note made it real. You, huh? I knew it was Mom! Her lower lip trembled—anger lay just below. Unable to deal with the flurry of emotions, she crumpled the paper in her fist, threw it back down on the carpeted floor, and ran out of the room.
Olivia sat angrily in the back seat of Jack’s car, the air was thick with her attitude.
Jack eyed her in the rearview mirror. “You okay, Olivia?”
“Mm-hm,” she said, tightlipped as she swung angry eyes toward Holly. Olivia didn’t know what angered her more, the upcoming ceremony and what it would mean, or Holly lying to her about being upset over her mother—or maybe Olivia was just angry at herself for having ignored pressing thoughts of her mother for the past forty-eight hours. She didn’t know, and she didn’t care. She let her anger boil as she stewed in silence.
Oblivious to Olivia’s anger, Holly was lost in her own world of guilt and confusion. She didn’t even flinch when Jack nudged her with his elbow.
“When did things get normal again?” Olivia asked Jason as they walked along the edge of the surf.
Jason thought about that. “I don’t know if things ever really get normal again. I was so mad for the first month or so, and my poor granddad had to deal with me. I was awful mean to him, but one day I realized that they didn’t really leave me. It wasn’t their choice.”
“I know. You said that the other night—but then what?
I feel so…so empty.”
“Then, it sort of just happens. One day I realized that I wasn’t just sitting around thinking of my mom and dad anymore. I was going out with my friends. I could watch TV without it always reminding me of how we used to watch together. It’s hard to describe, really.” Jason stopped walking and threw a rock into the ocean. “It just happened, like, one day I realized I wasn’t so sad anymore. I guess I just accepted it.”
Olivia knelt to pick up a shell. “But don’t you miss them? I feel like I want to run to tell my mom everything that happens each day. I still look for her to walk through the front door of Holly and Jack’s house or call on the phone. I mean, i know that’s stupid, but I can’t help it.”
Jason sat down next to Olivia. “I still think about them a lot. I just don’t…I don’t know. I guess I just realize that they won’t come back, so I never look for them anymore— but I used to. I used to run to the door, thinking the police or someone would come by and say it was all a big mistake, that someone else had died, but it wasn’t my parents. I have my granddad, though, and he’s really cool.”
“Well, I can’t wait for it to get easier. It just sucks. I know it wasn’t really her fault she was sick, but she was the one who decided not to take her pills, so that was her fault.”
Jason hesitated, not sure if Olivia really wanted to hear what he had to say.
Olivia noticed Jason turn away. “What? What is it?”
“It’s just…well, I think she would have died anyway, right? From the cancer? And I bet that would have been more awful for her than dying sooner, or else she wouldn’t have stopped taking her pills. I mean, you guys were really close, right? She wouldn’t leave you unless she had to.”
Olivia played with the sand, writing her name and thinking about what Jason had said. “Maybe…maybe it really would have been harder if she lived longer. Mom said she didn’t want me to see her deteriorate.”
“Geez, I wouldn’t want to watch my mom die,” Jason said, and then looked at Olivia, ready to apologize.
“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I guess she did what she thought she should do. It’s just so unfair that she had to die at all. I mean, I don’t even have a father to turn to.”
“Sometimes dads are a pain in the ass, believe me. Mine was strict and always harassed me about stuff.”
“I thought you liked your dad,” Olivia said.
“I did. I loved him, but he was still a pain in the ass.” “Well, I guess I have Jack now, so maybe he’ll be a pain
In the ass, too,” She laughed. “Who knows, maybe I’ll like having a dad, even if he is a pain.”
The tension between Holly and Jack mounted as they stewed about their own pasts and the lies they were living. Holly lay in the sun watching mothers and their small children on the beach. I couldn’t have done it. I couldn’t have been a good mother to Olivia.
Jack yearned to be close to Holly once again. The distance that had silently crept between them saddened him. I love you, Holly. I married you, not Megan. Even if Olivia is mine, I would have still married you.
He covered Holly’s small hand with his own, wrapping his fingers into her palm, and squeezing. When Holly squeezed back, he was relieved.
“Hol, I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ve been distant lately and not here for you. I’m sorry.”
She put her arms around him, unable to find the right words to say back. I’m sorry, too seemed too cliché, and I love you felt too simple. She really wanted to tell him what she had done and that she was ashamed of her actions, but she couldn’t. Instead, she pulled her face back and looked into his eyes, placing a soft kiss on the edge of his lips.
“I want to help,” Olivia said to Holly across the dinner table later that evening.
A confused look passed between Holly and Jack. Olivia had been distant from Holly since Saturday morning when they had gone to meet Jason at the beach.
“Help with what?” Holly asked lightly, glad for the break in her silence.
“Mom’s goodbye ceremony.” She shot her eyes from Holly to Jack. “I mean, I know we have to plan one, right?”
Holly cleared her throat and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Yes, we should do that soon.”
“I’m ready,” Olivia blurted out. She turned to Holly. “If you were waiting for me, then I’m ready.”
Jack reached out and touched Olivia’s hand. “Are you sure, Olivia? We don’t have to do it anytime soon. We can wait a while.”
Holly interrupted, “You just started back at school. Do you want to wait until you are a bit more settled?” She looked to Jack for support.
“That might be a good idea,” Jack said, shrugging slightly. Only Holly noticed.
“No. I’m sure. I’m ready. I mean, she isn’t coming back, right? I need to say goodbye. Otherwise I’m stuck in limbo. I feel like I’m just waiting for something.” Olivia began eating as if this were typical dinnertime conversati
on.
Jack raised his eyes toward Holly.
“If you’re sure,” Holly said. Holly was relieved that Olivia wanted to help plan the ceremony. The idea of planning it herself brought on such guilt that she had been unable to do anything productive. Olivia’s wellbeing would give her something to focus on.
“I’m sure,” Olivia answered.
Holly was reading when Jack climbed into bed, his warm legs brushed against hers. “Are you doing okay?” he asked tenderly.
“Yeah. Why?” she said.
“Well, this mothering is new to you. Fathering is new to me. I mean, does it make you sad?” Jack asked.
Holly laid her book down on her stomach. “It doesn’t make me sad, really. It is a constant reminder that we can’t have children, if that’s what you mean, but we have Olivia.” She looked at Jack, but saw Olivia’s dimples. “She’s our child now, Jack. I feel grateful.”
“Good,” he said as he hugged her. “I was worried about you. You’ve been a little distant lately.” He felt Holly’s body stiffen. “I have been, too. I’m sorry.”
Holly picked up her book and changed the subject, “Jason was nice, huh?”
“Yeah. They remind me a little of me and Megan when we were young, at camp. They seem to be becoming good friends.” Jack lay back on his pillow. “I think she needed a friend like him.”
Holly looked away. Did you love her then, too?
Megan watched Olivia toss and turn, wishing she could make her feel better, give her warm cocoa, or even better, hold her in her arms. She hovered just above Olivia and whispered, Your father loves you. I promise he does.
Olivia opened her eyes with a start. “What?” she whispered. She looked around her room which still felt unfamiliar to her. Slowly, she made her way from her bed to the stairs, listening closely for Holly or Jack. Hearing nothing but silence, she crept downstairs and into Holly’s den.
She saw the cardboard box in the corner and moved toward it, the box that Holly and Jack had been looking through in her kitchen. The one that had the stuff that her mother had with her the night she died.
She knelt in front of the box which was partially open. With her hands knotted in front of her, she peered inside. It was too dark to make out the contents. As she reached for the lamp on Holly’s desk, she knocked over a small wooden box.
Olivia immediately recognized the handwriting on the envelope that fell out of the box. She reached for it. Her hands shook, her heart beat faster with each passing second. Mom?
She opened the envelope and reached inside. As she withdrew a folded paper, two small photos fell out. She picked them up and immediately recognized one picture that she had seen many times before. That’s me, she smiled.
The second picture looked just like the first, but it was a photo she had not seen before, and there was something different about it—what that something was, she could not pinpoint. Who is this?
Holly gasped when she saw the photo in Olivia’s hand. “Where did you get that?” she asked in a soft, yet stern voice.
Startled, Olivia jumped up and put the photo and envelope behind her back. “I’m…I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking for this. I promise. I was coming in to see what was in the cardboard box of Mom’s stuff and I knocked over the lamp.” The words flew out of her mouth fast and shaky. She turned toward the desk and righted the wooden box, quickly putting the folded paper and photos back in the envelope.
Holly saw the envelope and remembered the birth certificate. Her eyes grew wide as she realized that Olivia may have seen it.
“I’m so sorry,” Olivia said again. She wrapped her trembling limbs around herself.
“What did you see?” Holly asked tentatively.
“My baby picture, but there were two. Are they both me?” she asked quietly.
A sense of relief washed over Holly. Holly looked down and sighed. “Sit down, Livi. It’s okay.”
“I’m really sorry, Holly. I wasn’t snooping. I mean, not through your stuff. I promise.” Olivia sat down on the sofa and folded her legs under herself. She held a pillow on her lap.
“The pictures that you saw, they were of you and Alissa
Mae, my baby,” Holly began.
“Your baby?” Olivia asked, confused.
“Yes, I had a baby girl the same day as your mother did. You two looked like twins, but, Alissa Mae—that was my daughter—died in the hospital,” Holly’s voice faded as she spoke, ending in a whisper. She took a deep breath.
“I didn’t know,” Olivia said in a quiet, concerned voice.
“I know. There didn’t seem a need to tell you. She died the day after she was born of SiDS, Sudden infant Death Syndrome, which really means that they don’t know why she died.” Holly shrugged, gloomily
“Is that why you don’t have children?” Olivia asked. Holly thought about how to answer her question. Yes, because I was too scared to get pregnant again. I wasn’t sure if I deserved to be a mother after what I had done. She put her hand on Olivia’s and said quietly, “I can’t have more children, Livi. It just wasn’t in the cards for me, but I do have a child. I have you.” even under the shady umbrella of pretense, she felt an inkling of relief as the truth was finally spoken.
Jason and Olivia had been talking on the phone every night since they went to the beach together. Each time Jason called, the butterflies no longer flew through Olivia’s stomach, they were replaced by a different type of excitement. Olivia kept mental notes throughout the day of things that were funny or sad, interesting or weird, and couldn’t wait to tell Jason about them later in the day. She loved to hear his “Hey girl!” when she picked up the phone. He was always happy to talk to her.
Jason was doing the same, looking forward to sharing his secrets with someone whom he’d felt connected to, someone who wouldn’t judge him when he was sad, or think he was weird when he wanted to stay home at night with his granddad so he wouldn’t be lonely. Jason loved the way that Olivia wasn’t real girlie and giggly. She could joke like one of the guys or just be quiet and listen.
His granddad said she was his comrade-in-arms, and that he had needed one for a long time. When Jason asked what he meant, he replied, “She’s your ally. She’s going through what you’ve already been through. You two will tough out this storm together.” Then he looked out the window and said, “You two need each other. It’s fate, my boy.”
“Why does it creep you out that Holly’s baby died?” Jason asked as he wrapped the phone cord around his fingers.
“I don’t know. I guess I feel guilty for being here or something—like it should have been Alissa Mae, and not me.” Olivia listened to Jack and Holly in the den as they discussed her mother’s ritual. She whispered into the phone, “Do you think she resents me? I mean, we were born on the same day.”
“Hell, I don’t know. That was fourteen years ago, and you said yourself that you never heard her talk about it. She’s probably long over it. Stop worrying about it.”
Olivia smiled, “You’re probably right.” She lowered her voice to a whisper again, “They’re in the next room talking about my mom’s goodbye ceremony.”
“I thought you did that already,” Jason said.
Olivia wondered why she felt like she had known him forever, like he had known her mother and how much she had meant to her. The fleeting feelings she had of finding him cute had been easily replaced with another kind of attraction. He’s my friend, like Mom and Peter. The realization made Olivia happy. A real friend, someone who gets me! “We had the public goodbye ceremony. This one is private—just for us.”
Jason’s stomach lurched. He wondered if he could be included, if he could be one of them.
Olivia woke with a start. The morning sun shone brightly through her curtain, spreading generous streaks of light across her comforter. She lay under the blankets, warm and secure. Today is the day—the day of her mother’s goodbye ceremony. Planning it had not been as difficult as she had imagined. She and Holly poured over the details
at first, as if it were a grand event. Eventually, though, they threw their hands up, wondering why it had taken them so long to realize what the ceremony should really be like.
They didn’t need fancy foods and flowers. Megan was more practical than that, and that’s what they both had loved about her. She wouldn’t have wanted them to spend a lot of money and make themselves crazy over details. Her goodbye ceremony, they agreed, should be the beginning of their own annual ritual. They would give Megan the kind of ceremony that belonged to her, the one she had initiated so many years ago, the one she had left them with.
Olivia pulled the journal Holly gave her out from under her bed. She hadn’t thought she would be able to keep another journal after—but she found that it helped her. She could write her thoughts without feeling guilty, without judgment, and that took a weight off of her shoulders that she hadn’t realized was there just days earlier. She picked up her purple gel pen and began to write.
Dear Mom,
I know you can’t read this, but I want to write it anyway. Today is your goodbye ceremony. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I mean, I know I have to say goodbye, but I don’t really want to. I feel like if I say goodbye you will really be gone. I know you’re gone, but, well, you know what I mean.
I wonder, Mom, do you still feel my pain? I hope you don’t. That’s not true, I kind of hope you do. I know that sounds mean, but I want to have some connection to you that is just ours. I feel you all around me all the time. I know you are somewhere out there. Is that going to change when I say goodbye? Are you going to really be going away then? If so, I wish you could tell me. I know you can’t. But I wish you could.
Holly and Jack have been great to me. Holly is really sad about losing you. Sometimes I find her crying in the den or just sitting in her car alone, and I know she’s thinking about you.
I found the letter, Mom. I’m not sure if I was supposed to or not, but I sort of tore apart your room after you died, and I found it in your mahogany box. I’m sorry. If you didn’t want me to find it so soon, then I’m really sorry. But I’m kinda glad I did.
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