I know why you didn’t tell me about Jack. At first I wanted to run and tell him that he was my dad, but every time I saw him and Holly together, I knew why you didn’t tell him. I won’t tell, Mom. I promise you that. I needed to know, but maybe he doesn’t. I mean, he treats me like I’m his daughter anyway. So it really doesn’t make a difference, does it?
I don’t want to tell Holly that I know, either. I can’t figure out if you told her or not, but she hasn’t mentioned it to me, so I’m not going to mention it to her either. She loves me, Mom. I know you know that. And she’s so much like you that it has made it a little easier for me. She’s not you. Please don’t think I could ever replace you. I miss you every second of the day. Sometimes I go, “Hey, mom!” and I expect you to be there to listen. I guess that will change sometime.
I have a new friend now, Mom. A real friend. His name is Jason, and don’t worry, he’s not someone I’d date or anything. He’s a friend. His parents died, too. He gets me. I like to talk to him. Holly and Jack like him, too.
I guess I have to face the day now. I hope you don’t go away for real. I love you Mom. I miss you sooo much!
Love forever, Livi
PS: Mom, I haven’t felt you around for days. Are you gone already? Have you gone away? If you are, I hope you know I love you. I won’t ever forget you.
The day weighed heavily in Holly’s heart. She had snapped at Jack when he had asked her what time the ceremony was scheduled to begin. Why had she snapped? She wasn’t mad at him. Her guilt had still not settled.
Holly needed to be alone. Olivia was at home with Jack and she couldn’t face either of them.
“Jack!” she hollered toward the den, “I’m going to the store to get some stuff for tonight. I’ll be back later.” She headed for the car without waiting for his response. She was worried Olivia might want to go with her, and she just couldn’t handle being nice to anyone at the moment.
once in the car, her stress lifted a bit. She was alone—finally. She headed toward the grocery store. On the way, she decided that she couldn’t even handle being around people
she didn’t know. She turned the car around and headed to
ward the lake. Instantly, she knew she was going where she needed to be. The water calmed her.
She sat with her legs hanging over the edge of the dock and took in the beauty of the surrounding trees and small sailboats anchored just feet from the beach. She leaned back on her hands and let her head hang back, her face warmed by the summer sun. She inhaled loud and long, and let her breath out slowly. It felt good to be alone. It felt right.
Holly lay back on the dock, and closed her eyes. She thought back to that dreadful night, fourteen years ago. She had been eight months pregnant, resting on a cot in the room next door to Megan, who had given birth to her own baby just hours before.
“Hol! Wake up, Holly!”
Jack’s voice had startled Holly. It had taken her a minute to remember that she was in the hospital. The pain in her belly, that she thought was in her dream, had been very real, hitting her fast and hard as she had tried to sit up. Jack’s face, white with fear, had scared Holly.
“Jack? What is it? Megan?”
“Holly, you’re bleeding!” Jack had run toward the door, then back to Holly. “Stay here,” he had said. He had run into the hall and had hollered for a doctor. Within minutes Holly had been rushed onto a gurney and had disappeared down the hall.
The maternity ward was a happy place for most for mothers, but not for Holly. It had brought all of her deepest fears to light. giving birth was like lifting the lid of a compressed chamber, from which her anxiety came rushing up and out, enveloping her, consuming her thoughts, and sending her mind into an uncontrollable panicked spiral. While Megan slept peacefully, Holly’s mind ran frantically in circles. Even the rocker where she sat with Olivia in her arms had made her nervous. The instability of the rocking motion made her feel uneasy. Olivia stirred in Holly’s arms. A sweet cooing sound escaped her tiny lips. Holly turned toward Megan, happy for her best friend’s blessing, and jealous of her ease and acceptance of motherhood—it scared the hell out of Holly. Why did I agree to share a room? She glanced in the bassinet next to her own bed and tried desperately to muster a loving smile for her own sleeping daughter, Alissa Mae. She willed herself to experience the emotions that every mother talked about—the feeling of being one with the child, wanting to protect it from everything, having loved it from the moment it was conceived. Instead, she felt fear—and regret was quickly taking over. The lack of maternal feelings toward the little girl terrified her. Was she even capable of mothering? She was petrified that she had ruined her life, that she would ruin the baby’s life. She became filled with desperation. Alissa Mae, what have I done?
Tears fell from her eyes. Her happiness for Megan became overshadowed by her anxiety. Carrying her secret made her lose confidence in herself, in her abilities. With the birth of the baby, how would she be able to continue lying to Jack?
Her hands began to shake. She closed her eyes and held Olivia tight, somehow wanting to protect her for Megan. You can do this! You have to do this! Her hands shook uncontrollably. She stood and paced the room, whispering to herself, “Get a grip on yourself. You are her mother.” Olivia lay still. No cooing came from her little pink lips. No nestling into Holly’s chest occurred. Through the jostling and worry, Olivia remained still.
Hearing the words had terrified her, You are a mother. “I can’t do it. I can’t. I can’t do this. It’s not right,” she murmured through her tears. She sat again in the rocking chair, too consumed with her own fears to notice the limpness of the weight in her arms. She rocked hard, staring at the ceiling and wishing she could figure out what to do, wishing that somehow she could be transported back to eight months ago, wishing she could have never made the mistake she had.
Agitated, she rose and paced the room again. She carried Olivia in one arm, waving her other as she made her way through her thoughts. How can I know? Paternity test, that’s what I’ll do. No! Then he’ll know. He’ll find out and then…Shit! Jesus Christ, what can I do? Holly’s heart pounded in her chest and she began to feel dizzy. She panted, as if she’d run around the room instead of having paced. Guilt settled around her. She looked at Megan, her face peaceful and happy, even in her slumber. The sight of Megan brought her mind back to Olivia. The weight in her arms had become noticeably heavy. She lay Olivia in the bassinet next to Megan’s bed. The baby didn’t wriggle as babies do. Its mouth hung open, lips dry. Uneasy with the stillness of the baby, she lowered her head closer to Olivia’s, scrutinizing her breathing. Something is not right. Oh God! She licked her trembling finger and placed it under Olivia’s nose, hoping to feel the warmth of her breath. Oh God! Oh God! She moved it quickly in front of Olivia’s mouth—nothing. Holly placed her hand flat against Olivia’s chest, hoping for the comforting feeling of the baby’s heartbeat. Oh my God! Fear ran through her body—her eyes darted around the room, What do I do? Her body began to tremble, and she realized that the mewing sounds she heard came from within her own lungs. She stood, picked up the baby and put it on her shoulder, pacing quickly around the room, patting her back, unsure of what to do. Surely the baby was fine, and she just didn’t feel its breath. Oh God! You’re okay, right?
As she paced, a thought came to her—a thought that was so treacherous, she couldn’t believe she had it—and yet she could not dismiss it, either. Should I? Could this be the solution? She walked tentatively over to Alissa Mae’s bassinette and laid Olivia’s body next to Alissa Mae. The resemblance was uncanny—Holly realized that without the name tag, which noted the one ounce difference in the babies’ weights, she could not tell the two babies apart—identical tufts of blonde hair sprouted like wayward grass under the edges of their caps, the same little pink lips, and remarkably, the same deep dimples. The only difference being that one baby’s chest moved up and down with each breath, while the other lay motionless.
The
sound of a duck landing on the water brought Holly’s mind back to the present. Her mind swam with the inability to come to a decision about her past.
If she were to tell Jack what she had done, he would never forgive her. What about Olivia? Olivia’s life would again be in turmoil if she learned the truth, and as it was, she was just barely beginning to come to grips with Megan’s death. Megan.
She could never repair the damage she had done to Megan. She could only hope that Megan understood that she could not have raised her baby. What would you have done, Meg? I didn’t know if my baby was Jack’s or Peter’s! Tears sprang from Holly’s eyes.
Peter. Oh my God. What about Peter? What if Alissa Mae was his daughter?
She sat up abruptly. Okay. That’s it. I can’t tell anyone. What’s done is done. I can’t tell Olivia, and Jack and Peter don’t need to know. It would only hurt them. And what would they think of me? Of my deceiving them? It’s better left unsaid.
Holly played with her wedding ring. ���enough of this,” she said out loud. “Megan is gone. I have to carry on. I have Olivia back—Alissa Mae—Olivia.” She stood and brushed off her jeans.
She paced along the dock. “Am I right, here? is this the right thing to do?” Her arms moved as if she were speaking to an audience.
“Whatever I decide, it has to be right. It cannot be changed.” She stopped. “Yes. Okay. This is right.” She began pacing again, speaking into the warm air. “Megan, I am sorry I tricked you into raising Alissa Mae, but I couldn’t be a mother. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t know if Jack and I would make it, much less if I could be a mother and a wife. I knew you could be a great mother—and you were a great mother. I did the right thing. I’m sorry you didn’t get to mourn for your Olivia, but maybe I saved you some pain. And Jack, if I tell you now, I could lose you. I am not willing to risk that. Peter, well, Peter, I’m just sorry all around.”
They sat solemnly around the fire, the air quiet and still save for the flames. Holly was glad that they had decided to do the goodbye ceremony in her back yard instead of Olivia’s. She was worried that reliving the ritual in her own backyard would be too much for Olivia to bear.
Olivia had asked about including Jason in the ritual, though as she asked the question, she knew it was not the right thing to do. Holly told her that the decision was hers.
As Olivia looked at her mother’s friends gathered as they had been the night of her death, she was glad she had decided to tell Jason that it was a family event, but that he did mean a lot to her. Luckily, he had understood.
She sat next to Jack and was glad that he was there, especially since he had missed her mother’s last ritual. Peter and Holly had fawned over her all evening, asking if she was sure she was ready to do the ritual and say goodbye and assuring her that her mother had loved her. Olivia appreciated their concern, but found it harder to make it through with all of that attention. She was glad they were beginning the ceremony and that she was able to escape the microscope.
Olivia reached behind her for her mother’s hippie bag, brought it to her face, and smelled the familiar scent of her mother swirling into her nose. She smiled, glad that she had remembered to ask Holly to retrieve it from the house.
She handed the bag to Holly and took it upon herself to take Holly’s former position as the one in charge of the music. She pressed the Play button and hoped silently that with the music, her mother would appear.
Holly took the bag from Olivia with a heavy heart. She had been so consumed with making sure Olivia was alright and preparing the ceremony that she had lost sight of what they were really preparing for. With Megan’s bag in her hands and the familiar group around the fire, her mind returned to the reason they were there—the final goodbye to her most treasured friend.
The circle of friends didn’t feel right without Megan to lead them. Holly’s voice caught in her throat as she tried to speak. Tears welled in her eyes. How can I possibly live up to Megan’s ability to lead our ritual? How did she start it again?
Holly’s mind drew a blank. She could not remember the words that Megan used to open the ceremony. Were they the same words each time? She felt insufficient. She was not worthy of this position of honor. The cool air pressed against her. Her heart pounded and cold sweat formed on her brow.
Jack reached over and laid his hand on Holly’s arm. “Hol? Are you alright?” he asked.
Her eyes were laden with sadness and confusion. Did he see fear, too? She tilted her head, as if she could not understand the words Jack spoke.
“Holly?” Jack asked again, rising slowly and moving toward her.
“I’m okay,” she managed, breathing heavily. “I didn’t expect—”
Olivia watched Holly and knew she was not alone in her fear of saying goodbye.
Holly closed her eyes and envisioned Megan. Breathe. Breathe. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The music sifted through the air. I can do this. I have to do this. She opened her eyes and nodded toward Jack who was by her side. “I’m okay, really. I just got a little overwhelmed, that’s all.”
“It’s okay, Hol. Do you want to wait?”
“No!” Holly and Olivia said at precisely the same time. Their eyes met, and a look of understanding passed silently between them.
“It’s okay, Jack. I can do it now. I’m sorry.” Holly patted Jack’s hand. “We’re good.” She turned toward Olivia.
“Right, Livi?”
Olivia nodded, the ends of her lips neared a smile.
Peter, Jack, Holly, and Olivia sat hand in hand and cross legged. Their faces warmed by the fire, their eyes closed.
“Thank you for bringing us together once again, oh
Holy one,” Holly began.
“Our circle has been…altered, as Megan is with You now. We are thankful that You took her peacefully, though her absence is felt in every breath we take.”
Olivia wiped a tear from her cheek.
Holly held a purple flower in her right hand, against her heart. “Meggie, how much I miss you. You were taken too soon from us, and yet you are still here. I feel you. I hear you. I even talk to you, but you know that.” She breathed a little laugh.
“Thank you for Olivia. Jack and I love her tremendously.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her hands shook. “I love you, Meggie. You are my sister, and I miss you.”
Four soft amens floated into the air. Holly kissed her flower and placed it in the fire.
Megan’s view was blurry, as if she were looking through a very old glass window that had bubbled and warped with age. Her form had faded since her passing, barely visible. She felt lighter, not just in her physical being, but her mind seemed lighter as well. It was difficult for her to process thoughts. She understood what she saw, but she could control her cognition less as time wore on. She felt a little like she was able to view but was not able to think or feel.
Jack’s heart beat faster as he thought of what he wanted to say. How could he consolidate his feelings for Megan, his questions about Olivia, and the emptiness he felt? How could he portray the chasm that Megan had left in his world without hurting Holly any more than what she already experienced?
His voice was just above a whisper, deep and solemn. “There are some friends who are always there for you, even when they are not present. There are others that are always present, and yet, somehow never there. You, Megan, were the queen of the first. You were the friend who touched one’s heart, lifted one’s spirit, and eased uncomfortable situations. You, Megan, were a miracle. I love you and know that when it is my turn to leave this earth, you will be there, ready to fill me in on the goings on in heaven and show me a mural that only you could paint. Until that time, Megan, I say goodbye.”
Jack placed his flower into the fire. Sparks popped lightly as they lifted toward the sky.
Peter took a loud, deep breath. The air escaped his lungs just as loudly as it had gone in. Tears sprang from his eyes when he opened his mouth to speak. He closed his eyes and though
t of Cruz. Be strong, Peter. You can do this.
“I feel so much gratitude toward you, Megan, that it is really difficult to put into words. You always encouraged me to be myself, not to let others judge me, and to stand up tall with regard to my feelings, yet you didn’t let me wallow in my mother’s leaving me. You taught me that it was okay to let Cruz in.” He began to sob. Jack and Olivia both reached out to him. He shook them off.
“I only regret that I didn’t listen before you were gone. I was so selfish!” His voice grew louder.
Holly and Jack watched, helpless to comfort him from his guilt.
“You gave me the strength to love Cruz, and now… now…you aren’t here to see how happy it made me. I’m so sorry, Megan.” His shoulders and head bobbed as he sobbed into his hands. The flower he was holding dropped to the ground. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he wept.
“Peter,” Olivia’s shaky voice brought his eyes to hers. “Mom knows how happy you are. She’s here.” She looked up toward the sky. “I can feel her. She’s here. She knows.” The lump in Peter’s throat kept him from speaking.
He nodded, his sad eyes pleaded forgiveness from Megan’s daughter. He hoped to someday have a child of his own—a child as sensitive and insightful as Olivia.
He took another deep breath. “I love you, Megan.” He tossed his flower into the flames.
In unison, a relieved amen floated to the sky.
Olivia’s stomach was on fire. Her head felt dizzy and tears streamed down her cheeks. She put her hand in her right pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Holly’s heart jumped to her throat. Panic ran through her. Is that—?
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