by Ellie Wade
I’m not sure what it is that my mother enjoys reading. Her whole life has been my father. So I grab one of everything remotely interesting that the gift shop has to offer. I also get a couple of bottles of sweet tea, chocolate bars, and potato chips.
Stepping out of the gift shop, bags in hand, I see her at the reception desk. Tanned skin, perfect curves, long, dark waves that cascade down to the middle of her back. My heart picks up speed, love rushing through my veins at the sight of her, no respect for the gravity of two nights ago. I can’t feel this way when she and I may not make it as a couple, but my body doesn’t listen. It’s instinctual, and I crave everything about her.
As if she feels my stare, she turns to face me with a meek smile on her face.
She walks toward me, bags in hand.
“Hi. Are you doing okay?”
“Yeah, I am.”
She lifts the bags in her grasp. “I didn’t know what you needed, so I brought a few things. I got some sweet tea because I know it’s your mom’s favorite, and some candy bars for her sweet tooth, and some chips in case she needs something a little salty after so much sweet. I also got her some magazines to read while she’s waiting. I don’t know what she likes, so I bought everything they had.” She sets the bags on the ground and pulls out a bag of Famous Amos cookies. “And I got these for you. I’m sorry.” She shakes her head, a frown on her face.
Years back, Alma decided to gift my namesake cookies when we were at odds, which doesn’t happen very often. I press my lips in a line, thinking of how I should even respond. She’s so thoughtful and caring. The contents of our bags mirroring each other shows just how in sync and similar we are.
I take the bag of Famous Amos cookies from her extended hand. “Thank you. I appreciate it but not necessary.”
“It is, though. I was horrible to you. I’m so sorry.”
I sigh. “Let’s deal with that later,” I say, knowing that if my father wasn’t in the hospital undergoing open-heart surgery, we still wouldn’t be talking. There’s no point in forcing a conversation that she isn’t ready to have, especially not here. “Mom will be excited to see you.”
“Amos.” Her voice cracks. “I’m sorry.”
“I know you are. It’s okay. You’ll figure it out, and it doesn’t have to be today.” My lips curve into a ghost of a smile, reassuring her that I’m okay even if I’m not.
She lowers her chin in a nod and retrieves her bags before following me to the waiting room.
“Alma,” mom says, a sincere smile finding her face. “It’s so good to see you.”
Alma hugs my mom. “I’m sorry to hear about Mr. Davis.”
“Yeah.” Mom shrugs and shakes her head. “It’s going to be fine. He has a world-class heart surgeon working on him now, and then he’ll be fine, just fine.”
“I’m so glad.” Alma takes a seat between my mother and me. She hands the bags she brought over. “I brought some snacks and reading material. Maybe it will help pass the time.”
“You’re so sweet. Thank you, dear.” She looks inside the bags and pulls out a sweet tea and candy bar. “Would you two like some? Alma brought plenty to share.”
“I’m good. Thank you,” Alma and I say in unison.
“Okay. Well, if you change your mind, let me know. So, tell me, Alma, what have you been up to? I haven’t spoken to you in so long. You still running that place that helps kids? How’s your daughter? Your mom? I heard about your dad’s passing. I’m so sorry about that.”
Alma grins sweetly, “Thank you. My mom is doing great. We’re closer than ever. She is over at my house every day and lives only a few blocks away. Yes.” She nods. “Love is three now and perfect in every way. I’m still running the Lion’s Lair, and it’s going fantastic. Amos has been a big help with that.”
“How’s that?” she asks, looking from me to Alma.
Alma looks at me, confused, and then back at my mom. “Well, he works there now. He’s my partner at the Lair.”
“He didn’t tell me that. How wonderful. So, then you two get to see each other quite often. You were always inseparable as children. I’m glad to see your friendship has lasted all these years.”
“Yeah, me too,” Alma says in a cheerful voice, though I can hear the worry in her words.
“So what do you do at work?” Mom asks.
Alma supplies her with uplifting anecdotes about some of our children at the Lair, and Mom listens intently. The conversation is easy as Alma catches my mother up on the past several years. She leaves out the part about us dating just as I have.
Mom reaches for another candy bar and pulls out a stack of magazines.
“What do you have?” Alma eyes the bags at my feet.
“Take a look,” I tell her.
She looks inside and scoffs. “Almost identical. Great minds think alike.”
“I guess they do.”
“You don’t have to stay. It’s going to be a long day, and you’re looking at the gist of it right here. We have everything we need. I know you want to get home to Love and spend the rest of your Sunday with her. I appreciate you coming, but you should go.” I squeeze her knee, reassuring her of my sincerity, though touching her feels wrong with how things ended the other night.
“Okay. I just wanted to make sure you were both okay.”
“You have, and we are. You can go home.”
She nods and stands, offering a goodbye to my mom before the two of us walk toward the hospital entrance.
We stop and step off to the side of the exit door. Alma turns to face me. “I hope you know that the other night had nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. You were incredible.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing, but it’s not necessary. I don’t need my sexual skills complimented. It’s not about that.” My words come out harsher than I’d like.
She drops her head. “You’re mad. You deserve to be. I treated you so…”
I press a finger beneath her chin and lift her face, locking her gaze with mine. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”
“I told you I was broken.” Her chin quivers beneath my touch. “You deserve so much better.”
“Hey, stop.” I pull her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her, and she nuzzles her face into my shirt. “I don’t want to do this here. You said you needed time. Take the time. We don’t have to decide anything this second. You know where I stand. You know how much I love you. Now, you have to figure out what you want.”
She nods against my chest. “Okay.”
Alma turns and takes a step toward the door as panic rises within me. Regret over my recent words and feigned acceptance set in. I can’t allow her to walk away from me, thinking I’m okay letting her go. I reach out for her hand and pull her back to me.
I cup her face in my hands. “Just know that I’m all in. You are the only one for me. I will fight for you for the rest of my life if that’s what it takes because you and I are destined to be together. You’re my soul mate, Alma. I’ve known that since I was seven. You’re my other half, my kindred spirit. I don’t want this life without you. We are so good together, in every way. Friday night was the culmination of twenty years of love and should show you that. But I can’t compete with a ghost. There are no winners in that scenario. You have to let go enough to let me in, or it won’t work. It just can’t.”
She drops her chin. “Okay,” she says again.
“Think about it, Alma. Really think about what you want in this life because you’re young and there’s so much in store for you. An exciting new chapter could be starting right now, but you have to be brave enough to turn the page.” I swipe my thumbs against her soft cheeks. “I love you,” I say before I pull her into a kiss. It’s not a long one, but it carries the hope for a future on our shared breaths, and it’s powerful.
“I love you,” she whispers across my lips before she turns and walks away.
Please let it be enough. I think as she disappears through the doors.
Let it be enough.
20
Alma
I cried the whole way home from the hospital on Sunday, my heart tearing in two. I’ve skated through the week in a daze, my mind always somewhere else. Memories of Leo came back to me in vivid detail—all of them, just when I thought they were fading.
There isn’t a choice, not really. Only one scenario makes sense, and my brain knows this. I can’t turn away from the chance at an incredible life with an epic love because I’m afraid to let my first love go. It’s time. It’s been time, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
If Leo and I had ended on bad terms, gotten a divorce, or grown apart—it’d be a different story. It’s a struggle to love another when I’m still so in love with him. If it were anyone but Amos, I wouldn’t. I’d rather live in the memories alone.
But it’s Amos.
And he’s worth it.
He’s worth fighting for, and the crazy thing is that I’m only fighting myself and my own inability to let go.
As I pull away from work, my car drives as if on autopilot. I don’t register where I’m heading until I’m there. I put the car in park, turn off the engine, and stare ahead.
Leo David Harding
Beloved Husband
you are burned into my soul forever.
Tears course over my cheeks before I reach his tombstone. My heart breaks at the sight, as it always does. Love and I come here every once in a while to talk to her daddy, and when we do, it’s not as hard as it is now. I know that if Leo is listening, he’d be able to listen to my thoughts regardless of where I am. Still coming to the cemetery makes me feel closer to him. I have this idea in my head that if he’s going to hear me anywhere, it’d be here.
I kneel at his gravestone.
I pull in a breath. “You told me to move on. You want me to be happy. But why is it so hard? Why do I feel that I’m betraying you and what we had? Love deserves a father figure in her life, and I deserve a companion. It makes sense. But it’s so fucking hard, Leo.” I sob into my hands. “It’s so fucking hard to let you go.”
The ache within my chest is unbearable. Loving Leo, my soul mate, has become a life sentence—one I can’t escape no matter how hard I try.
“I need you to help me. Give me strength. Let me let you go,” I choke out. “I have to let you go.”
Even as I say the words, they feel like lies coming from my mouth. I lie down on the soft grass in front of the gravestone and cry.
“You’re never coming back,” I whisper. “I love him, you know? Maybe you always knew. You had a way with reading people like that. In the beginning, you were so jealous of him, and I couldn’t understand why. Perhaps you saw it before I did.”
My hand slides out to my side, running the blades of grass between my fingers. “I think I could love him the way I loved you, and that thought terrifies me. You are my soul mate. What does it mean if I can love him in equal measure?”
Who says we get just one?
The thought sounds within my mind, loud and clear. I can’t tell whose voice it is. Mine? Leo’s? My mother’s? It doesn’t matter though because I finally hear it.
Who says we get just one?
I sit up. “I can have two epic loves. Can’t I?”
I wait for a response that doesn’t come.
As always, when I truly need Leo, I close my eyes and focus deep within. I breathe in and out, a steady rhythm and I concentrate on the beats of my heart, the sounds of the birds and bugs around me, and the gentle whooshing of the summer wind. I go into myself for minutes, an hour—I lose track of time. I block the negativity of the world out and breathe. The ache in my chest finally lessons and I know Leo lifted it from me, as if to say, It’s okay to let me go.
“I will love you, forever.” my voice trembles. I stand and peer down at his grave. Kissing the tips of my fingers, I press them against the stone. “Forever.”
I turn and walk toward my car. Opening the door, I put one leg inside, and return my attention back toward Leo’s resting place. “Goodbye, my love.”
I drive away from the cemetery, broken and shattered but stronger and lighter, at the same time. The weight in my chest has truly lifted.
It’s taken four years but I finally said goodbye.
21
Alma
“I think that Ariel is right…” I look at the overturned cards on the table and pick one. “…here!” I say, revealing Princess Tianna in her green ball gown.
“No.” Love giggles. “Momma, she’s right here.” Love turns over the Ariel card.
“Oh.” I feign surprise. “There she is. I’m silly.”
“Momma silly.” Love shakes her head and collects the Ariel matches from her Memory game.
“You got the match so you can go again,” I tell her.
I watch as Love bites her tongue in concentration and studies the cards on the table. It’s so incredible watching her little brain work. She’s so smart, and astonishes me every day. I used to bite my tongue when I was concentrating as a child. I’m so giddy when I discover something about her personality that comes from me. She’s her daddy’s mini, no doubt, and I love it. I’ll always feel him here with me, through her. Still, it’s fun when random traits of mine shine through in her personality.
We finish the princess Memory game and make some ice cream sundaes to take outside. It’s a beautiful, hot and humid, Michigan summer day.
Perfect for ice cream sundaes.
When we’ve eaten until our hearts’ content, I turn on the sprinklers.
“Come on.” I reach my hand toward Love. “Let’s rinse off all the stickiness.”
“Momma. My dress.” She holds the skirt of her floral sundress.
I bend my knees so I’m face-to-face with her. “Let’s go run through in our clothes. Who needs a swimsuit. Right?”
“Right!” She takes my hand, and we race through the oscillating sprinkles, laughing the entire time.
I close my eyes as the water pelts my face. The spray is chilly, but the sun quickly heats my wet skin. Arms out to our sides, we spin in circles under the water. There’s nothing I love more than living life through my daughter’s eyes. When I’m with Love, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. Each day as her mother is a blessing.
Soaked and exhausted from laughter, we plop down in the grass, just out of reach from the sprinkler.
“It’s itchy, Momma.” she scratches at her arms where the blades of grass meet her skin.
“Come here.” I pull her onto my chest and wrap my arms around her. “Better?”
“Yes.” she rests her face against me
I hold her tight. “Do you know that I love you more than anyone else in the entire world?”
“Yep!”
“Do you know that you’re the absolute love of my life?”
“Yep!”
“Good. Never forget it. No matter what you grow up to be, who you grow up to love, or what you do in this life…I will always love you. Always. Always. Okay?” I tell her this type of stuff all the time, and perhaps it’s a little deep for a three-year-old, but I want it to be so ingrained in her that she’ll never question it. “You, Love Grace, are the best thing to ever happen to me. I love you, forever.”
“I love you, Momma. You the best.”
“No, you are.”
“You are,” she snaps.
“Never. It’s you.”
“You!” She laughs.
“Okay, fine.” I hug her tighter. “We’re both the best.”
“Okay.” Love agrees. “Both best.”
“Are you excited for your weekend of fun with Gigi?” I ask, pulling a wet strand of hair from her face.
She nods her head with enthusiasm.
“She always makes everything so fun. Doesn’t she?”
“Gigi the best, too.” Love notes.
“She is. We’re all amazing. Aren’t we?” I kiss her head.
I took the past two days off from the Lair and spent every waking mom
ent with Love. Truth is, I needed it. I needed her, and the utter innocence and happiness she fills me with. She’s the best therapy there is.
Everything at work is running smoothly, and I figured what’s the point in being the boss if I don’t take some time off here and there. After Leo’s death and during Love’s first year of life, I was home a lot. Since Lee-Anne has been helping me with Love, I’ve been working more than ever, and I’m not doing it anymore—at least not so much. I have a collection of brilliant and capable co-workers who are able to run the place without me there every moment. Love’s only going to be this little once, and I need to cherish it.
Amos is coming back tonight, and I’m going to surprise him with a weekend away. We’ve hardly spoken this week, just a few texts here and there. He’s been home helping his parents and giving me space to think about what I want.
I already know what I want.
It took me a while to accept it, but I’m ready.
I can’t sacrifice time with Love for Amos. I know that about myself. She’s my number one. She has to be. But I can still have a meaningful relationship. Amos is right. She’ll be fine spending a night or two away from me. These past two days of uninterrupted quality time with Love have helped ease my guilt.
I’ll get better at delegating my time. When Love was born, it was she and I against the world. At the time, I was struggling to simply exist, and she was my anchor. Every day doesn’t have to be a battle. It’s okay if I simply—live.
Let go.
Smile.
Just be.
Be present. Be joyful. And be without worry.
I can do that, and this weekend, with Amos, I will.
“What’s going on out here?” Amos’s voice startles me from the snuggle session in the grass.
I sit up, and Love hops off me.
She runs to Amos and jumps into his arms, giving him a big, wet hug. “Cookie!”
“Hey, Love bug. What are my girls doing?”
“Ice cream and sprinklers,” Love says excitedly.