White Lilies (A Mitchell Sisters Novel)

by Christy, Samantha

  She looks at Griffin who winks at her. Then she puts a hand on my tummy while she looks back at the monitor. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Aaron Pearce.”

  Even though I’m sobbing with everyone in the room, I don’t miss how she assigns him Griffin’s last name. I peek at Griffin who, no doubt, heard the same thing. He shrugs it off and proceeds to plant a kiss on Erin’s head. Then he puts his hand on top of hers as they both rest on the side of my belly, out of the way of the ultrasound wand as we enjoy a few more moments with our son.

  Our son.

  Holy mother of God. I’m going to have a baby.

  ~ ~ ~

  When we arrive back at the townhouse, Griffin carries Erin effortlessly up the front steps and into her new bedroom. I don’t miss her look of longing as she passes through the front door. She knows it’s the last time it will happen. She clutches onto a few pictures the technician printed out for her as he lays her down on the hospital bed.

  More flowers have been delivered in our absence. It’s become somewhat of a private joke between Erin and me that nobody else has been bold enough to send her white lilies. The sympathy flower. The flower of death. Not even Griffin will bring them. He chooses the more traditional roses, and sometimes orchids, like Baylor. Not me. I’ll never get her anything but white lilies.

  An hour after arriving home, Baylor and Mason show up at the townhouse, and along with Erin, they send Griffin and I on pointless errands with strict instructions not to return home until asked. I’m not sure why we’ve been kicked out, because none of them would discuss it. The only thing I can think of is that Erin is enlisting the help of those closest to Griffin and me so they can carry on her mission once she’s gone.

  Shortly after dark, Griffin and I are beckoned home. Erin calls me into her room. She’s got that look on her face. I know that look. This is it. This is when she’s going to ask what my plans are. This is when I’m going to break her heart because I don’t know in all certainty what the future holds. This is when we have a heart-to-heart for quite possibly the very last time.

  She pats the bed next to where she reclines. I climb on and lie down with her, silent tears welling up in my eyes when I hear her wince in pain next to me. We do this every night after she has her glass of wine on the patio. We lie here like teenagers at a slumber party, talking about everything and anything. Well, except that one thing.

  “Do we have to do this now?” I ask, like a petulant child.

  She smiles at me like an all-knowing mother. “It’s now or never.”

  My heart sinks at her declaration. “You know I love you, right, Erin? You know I’d do anything for you and I want to do this. I really do, I just need to know I’m doing it for the right reasons.”

  “Disney World,” she says randomly.

  I shake my head, thinking she’s gone into another state of confusion. “Disney World?” I repeat.

  “Take Aaron there. Don’t wait. Take him when he’s little. It will be magical to watch his face light up when he sees Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck in person. And Santa Claus—please, do everything in your power to make him believe for as long as you can. Don’t send him to private school—it’s for snobby rich kids. And even though he’ll be rich, don’t ever let him act like it. Make sure he’s a giver, not a taker. Then again, seeing who his mom is, I know that won’t be a problem. You’re the biggest giver I know, Skylar.” All I can do is roll my eyes at her statement. She’s delusional, but I’m not about to call her on it now. “Make sure he knows how to treat a lady. Griffin is a great example, but you need to remind Aaron of it every day. Don’t let him get lazy. Teach him how to drive. Even if you live in the city, every kid needs to feel the freedom of getting a license when they turn sixteen. Hug him and kiss him. Even when he says he’s too old. Even when he says it embarrasses him. No matter what he says; he needs to know you love him. And kiss him for me. Every day. Tell him his guardian angel will always watch over him.”

  I listen intently as Erin rambles on, slurring her words as she lists everything she wants me to do with Aaron. Things I never would have thought of. Things only a good mother would be sure to do for their child. How can she entrust him to me? When she finally becomes exhausted from talking, I take her hand. “Erin, I promise to try to do all those things, but what makes you think I can live up to your expectations? Everything you’ve said makes me see just how different I am from the mother you would have been. How can you be so sure I’m the best one to raise Aaron?”

  She shakes her head at me as if I’m crazy. “Skylar Mitchell, I’ve known you for exactly six months. It only took you all of about two seconds of that time to work your way into my heart. The heart I thought was closed to new friends because of how I was treated back in high school. But the second you fell off your stool, I knew we were going to be great friends. You’ve opened up my world to new people, new experiences, new love, and I’m not just talking about this larger-than-life thing you did for me, either. You’ve proven that your capacity for loving another human being is endless. Look at what you’ve done for me these last weeks. How can you doubt, for one second, your ability to completely give yourself over to another person and make their world a wonderful place?

  “I know you don’t think you’re worthy of being a mother. I know you don’t think you’re worthy of Griffin. You’re wrong on both counts. I wouldn’t ask you to be their family if I didn’t think you could do it. If I didn’t think you were the only one who should do it. If I didn’t think Griffin could love you.”

  Her voice cracks when she says it and I know it must kill her to think of us together. “Erin . . .”

  She pulls me tight with her good arm. “No, Skylar, it’s okay. I want him to love you, but you need to allow him to. I’ve seen you together. You’re drawn to each other. But you’re fighting it because of me.” She touches my tummy. “You have this incredible connection that will bond you for life. I see what it does to him. He may not have been on board with having a baby at first, but I watch him watch you. You are the mother of his child. And you’re beautiful and fun and sexy as hell. You are what he needs. He is what you need. But more than anything else, you’re both what Aaron needs.

  “Promise me, Skylar. Promise to live life to the fullest and don’t let a day go by with regrets. If you want to see the Eiffel Tower, go to Paris. Don’t say someday. Say today. Don’t wait to love Griffin. Love him today. I need you to show him it’s okay. You need to be the one to let it happen. He won’t do it. He won’t do it out of respect for me. I need you to do it, Skylar. Don’t wait another minute. Let me die knowing you are going to take Griffin and Aaron and make them your family.”

  I cuddle into her, spooning her from behind, not wanting to let her go. Not wanting to let her down. I say the only thing I can. The only thing a true best friend could possibly say in this impossible situation. “Okay, Erin. I promise. I swear to you I’ll do everything in my power to honor your wish. You are the best thing that’s ever happened in my entire life, do you know that?”

  She goes limp in my arms. I pray that she heard. I pray that if those were the last words she ever hears from me, that she believes them to be true.

  I hear a noise in the doorway and turn to see Griffin leaning up against the frame. A tear rolls down his face as he stares at me. Then he turns to walk away without a word.

  chapter eighteen

  Turns out, those were the last words Erin heard me say. At least the Erin I knew. Later that night she slipped into a light coma. Apparently it’s not uncommon for this to happen the last few days. She’s withering away quickly. Erin signed the papers refusing a feeding tube when the time came. She didn’t want anything prolonging her life just so we didn’t have to deal with her death. I see now, I see why she did it. It’s horrible. When she’s not sleeping, she’s completely incoherent. Belligerent even. She doesn’t know who we are or who she is.

  Still, Griffin and I keep vigil at her side. Family members come and go, but other tha
n me, she didn’t want any friends with her near the end. She knew how it would go. She didn’t want everyone remembering her the way she’s been these last few days. Family, that’s who she wanted here. I’m now lucky enough to be considered a part of that.

  Griffin and I take a break, both of us exhausted from lack of sleep. Neither one of us want to leave her for more than a few minutes, knowing we could miss being with her at the very end. Her instructions were clear. When the time comes, she wants Griffin and me and no one else with her. We leave Erin with Sherry and some of her sisters while the others make more arrangements for what will inevitably happen soon. We open a bottle of Erin’s favorite wine out on their back porch. It’s cold out here. It’s wet, too. But this was her peaceful place, her area of solace, the spot she would come every night and share stories of her childhood and her hopes of the future. Aaron’s future. We came out to toast her. I take one sip of wine in honor of my friend and then I laugh at what happens next.

  Little constant flutters riddle my belly. The bean has decided to protest my forbidden drink by getting the hiccups. The quick and soft little jerks make me smile. He gets them all the time and so far, it’s my favorite thing about being pregnant.

  Griffin looks at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I know he’s wondering how I can possibly laugh at a time like this. But all of a sudden, in some twisted way, I’m happy. I feel this little life within me. In the other room, life is slipping away, yet here is Aaron, growing big and strong and reminding me every day that life is precious.

  “Aaron has the hiccups,” I say, looking down at my belly. I sit on the porch swing and close my eyes to savor the moment.

  I feel the swing shift under Griffin’s weight as he sits next to me. “Can I feel?” he asks in a whisper.

  I nod and with my eyes still closed, I reach out and grab his hand and place it under my coat onto my belly. We sit like this for a silent minute.

  I know the second he feels it because he chokes up. I keep my eyes closed and let him quietly enjoy the first time he feels his son move. I hear him murmur ‘Incredible’ over and over. His hand is frozen in place on my belly. I can tell he doesn’t want to move it for fear of losing the moment to the past.

  But the hiccups stop and then Sherry sticks her head out the door and says the words we have dreaded for the past month. “It’s time.”

  We both belt out a pained whimper into the darkness of the night. Then we compose ourselves and do what we have to do. We go say goodbye to the woman who has single-handedly changed our lives.

  We walk past her family as they quietly sob, all gathered around the kitchen. I try not to look at them. I want to be strong in these last moments. I know Erin probably won’t be able to hear me. She won’t even see me, but I need to be strong for her anyway. I can fall apart later. Once she’s gone. Right now, I need to be here for her. For Griffin.

  I’m stunned at what I see when we walk into her room. Her eyes are open. They’re as clear and as blue as I’ve ever seen them. She follows our movement to the side of her bed. I take one side, Griffin the other. I’ve read about this. I’ve read how some terminally ill patients have one last moment of cognizance before they die.

  Her body is relaxed and I immediately notice her hand is not curled up in front of her. Her hair has finally lightened back to the glorious blonde spirals that I love. Her face is peaceful, despite the dark circles, faint lines, and hollow cheeks that have come from a lack of nutrition. Her respirations are slow and the time lengthens between each gurgling breath she takes. She doesn’t speak but her eyes say volumes. I nod at Griffin. He needs to say goodbye.

  “Sweetheart, I’m here. Skylar is, too,” his shaky voice cracks. “God, I love you so much. You have brought such joy to my life. I can’t even begin to explain what you mean to me. When I had no family, you took me in and made me part of yours. You believed in me when nobody else did. Even now, when I thought I could never forgive my dad, you managed to bring us together.” He can barely get the last words out, but I know he needs her to hear him so he pushes through. “You’ve done everything that you needed to do. You let us take it from here. Thank you, baby. Thank you for being my wife.”

  He bows his head and gives her a kiss on the lips. Then he nods to me through his tears.

  I take a deep breath and pray I get through this without breaking down. “Erin Pearce, you are the best friend I’ve ever had. I could look to the ends of the earth and never find another friend like you. You see the good in people. You look past what others can’t. You have changed my life in the short time I’ve known you and I will never be the same. Heaven will be a better place because you are in it. Aaron will have a better life because you are his guardian angel. I will be a better person because I’ve known you. You don’t have to worry about anything now. We’ve got you covered. I love you, Erin. Thank you for being my very best friend.”

  I can’t tell if she’s heard us. Perhaps the words we’ve spoken are more for us than they are for her. We continue to praise her with our love. We tell her it’s okay to leave, that we’ll be fine, that Aaron will be alright. But her eyes dart between us like she’s not quite done with us yet. Like she isn’t ready to let go. Her eyes fall onto our hands. Each of us has one of Erin’s hands in ours. She fixes her gaze on them as if willing her limp hands to move within ours. Then, Griffin reaches across the bed with his free hand and grabs mine. We hold hands on top of her chest, forming a circle, each of us holding the hands of the other.

  Erin lets out a deep sigh as the life exits her body along with her final breath. She peacefully closes her eyes and slips away. As I watch my best friend leave this world, I try not to drown in my loss. Instead, I rejoice that she is once again whole. She’s no longer confined to the broken body she was sentenced with. She is free to be Aaron’s guardian. She can go to Paris and free fall from a plane. She can dance on the clouds and have dozens of babies.

  Staring at her lifeless body, I realize her face looks different. It looks younger. Even the dark circles and lines that riddled it moments ago seem to be gone. She’s as beautiful in death as she was in life.

  I put my hand on my belly and feel Aaron shift around inside me as I think how one life has been traded for another.

  Griffin silently cries into her dressing gown as I make my way out to the family and give him one last moment with her before they come take her away. I slowly walk as far as the kitchen when I feel my legs collapse out from under me. But before I hit the floor, strong arms come around me from behind and pick me up, carrying me up the stairs to the room that has become mine.

  The last thing I remember is Griffin telling me everything will be okay.

  chapter nineteen

  I sit and stare at the urn on the table. The urn that has been entrusted in part to me, in the house that has been given in part to me. What the hell did she do this for?

  I curse her for the millionth time since Baylor read Griffin and me the letter with Erin’s final wishes. It was only yesterday, the day before her funeral. The letter stated that her body was to be cremated, not buried. We knew this, but it went on to say her ashes were to be given to Griffin and me. That we were to decide together when and where to spread them. She was explicit about it being a place of happiness and life. That when the time was right, we would know what to do.

  The letter also went on to explain that the townhouse, which was solely in her name—a wedding gift from Griffin—was deeded to both Griffin and myself. We know what she’s doing, of course. She’s made it perfectly clear she wants us to keep, and live together in, the townhouse.

  Along with Erin’s parents, I’ve stayed here the few days since she died. At first, I was too exhausted to do anything else. Then, her family asked me to help with the reception being held here today, just hours after her funeral. The funeral that was adorned with what I’m sure was every last white lily in the city. I loved it. Nobody else would understand. Nobody else had that connection. When I walked into the service to s
ee every available space draped with Erin’s favorite flower, I saw life, not death. I saw life and boy babies and long pistols. I saw Erin’s smiling face. For one very brief second, I may have even seen hope for the future.

  Other than making an appearance at the reading of Erin’s letter and the funeral, Griffin has been holed up in his bedroom. I don’t know how to console him. If I touch him, he may think I’m trying to take Erin’s place. If I don’t, he may think I’m not interested. I desperately want to honor Erin’s dying wish. Even if I wasn’t already in love with him, I’d want to. But I’m just not sure what the proper amount of time is to grieve your best friend before shacking up with her husband.

  Maybe we need some space. Some time to grieve separately before we try to be together. I decide to pack up my suitcases and head home tonight. It’s the right thing to do. Erin’s family will be leaving and heading back to White Plains after the reception. I don’t want it to be awkward with only Griffin and me in the house.

  The Mitchell’s catering van arrives, followed by Baylor’s clan. Friends and family trickle in all afternoon. We do our best to make it a celebration of Erin’s life, so I take it upon myself to bring up pictures from Griffin’s studio. Pictures that depict Erin at her happiest moments during her last weeks.

  Baylor hands little Jordan to me. She’s barely a month old. I know what Baylor is doing. She’s trying to get me comfortable with babies. But babies don’t like me. Jordan squirms and cries and looks freakishly uncomfortable in my arms. Knowing this doesn’t come naturally to me just feeds my anxiety.

  Griffin comes downstairs, making small talk with whoever engages with him, but he has closed himself off. He sits in the corner of the living room watching me with his pensive slate-gray eyes. Is he wondering how he’s going to do this? Or maybe he’s wondering how he’s going to let me down. I try to ignore his punishing stares as I mingle with Erin’s loved ones.