Love Letter Duet: The Encore Edition

by Callie Anderson

  I stood to say goodbye to Max. It had been nice to see him and Sophia again. It was nice to know that I could come back here and, though I missed her, the pain wouldn't be unbearable.

  “I'll see you soon.” I said.

  “Good to hear, man, but before you go…” He handed me a USB. “She left this for you.” A kind smile appeared on his face. “She told me it would take some time, but eventually, you would come in here. She asked that when you did I’d give this to you.”

  “Thank you.” I took the drive from his hand and put it in my back pocket.

  After Lyra had finished her homework and showered, I tucked her into bed and then plugged the USB into the television.

  “Hi.” She had lost her hair completely, but the smile on her face was the most beautiful smile of all. “We got married last night,” she brought her hand in front of the camera, “and we’re leaving for Hawaii soon.” She paused and looked away.

  “I finished chemo, and the doctors say all my scans are okay. I have to take the chemo pill for the next five years, but I get a chance at a do–over. I really thought about not doing this video. It’s kind of a contradiction that I’m shooting this video for you to watch once I’ve died even though the doctors say I’m okay.” Emilia bit her nails.

  “But it got me thinking. What if I fall off a cliff or get hit by a bus? I know those are both very extreme scenarios, but when I started taping these, I had a reason for them. It was to help you heal.” She smiled and looked straight into the camera. “And that’s the only thing that matters. If you never get to see these, then that’s okay too but if you’re watching this video right this second then we know that a bus took me, or a cliff.” She shrugged. “But I’ll be in heaven knowing that I had already taped this.” She laughed at her own ridiculousness.

  “So back to my original plan, you went to Max’s? That’s good. It means you’re getting out of the house and that you’re not sulking around because that’s the last thing I want. Weston, if I learned anything by going through chemo, it’s that every single day is a precious one. Every second you get to live is precious. Don’t waste them missing me. Don’t throw a perfectly beautiful day away because you wish I was there. Living your life doesn’t mean that you love me any less. That’s what I would want for you to do. Continue to go on.” She closed her eyes and inhaled.

  “I love you, my husband.” She bit her lower lip and smiled. “I love the way that sounds. I love you very much, Weston. I hope time is healing your wounds and that you’re no longer in any pain.” She blew me a kiss. “Give Lyra a big hug for me. I love you always.”

  The video stopped.

  I pulled the USB off the television and then walked to the box I had over the mantel and added it to the collection. Unlike the other two, I would only watch this one once.

  I was finally moving on.

  Christmas Eve

  Acceptance.

  I had finally accepted that Emilia was gone.

  It was the first holiday without her. She had left two videos for Lyra wishing her a Merry Christmas, one which we watched together first thing Christmas Eve morning, and then we’d spent the day baking cookies for Santa. The second video Emilia had requested that we watch after we opened the gifts Santa had left for Lyra.

  Later that night, we sat in our pajamas eating s’mores as we watched “Dr. Seuss’ How The Grinch Stole Christmas!” on the television. It was something Emilia had always made for Lyra as a treat after dinner and I had continued with the tradition. The presents were wrapped and hidden in the garage, and my parents and Mama would arrive early tomorrow for presents and brunch. Leslie would be coming by as well and then we would all head to Sally and Axel’s for dinner. Everyone wanted to be together since this was the first holiday season without Emilia.

  “Daddy, do you think Santa got my letter?” She curled up next to me on the couch. The side of her mouth was smudged with chocolate.

  “Of course, princess.” I cleaned the side of her face and kissed her forehead. She looked like she was going to say something else, but the doorbell startled us both. I told Lyra to stay on the couch and walked over to the door. Pulling it back, I was greeted by a frantic–looking Leslie.

  “Hey, Les, I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” Her eyes were wide, and I knew she had been crying. “Is everything okay?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry to show up here unannounced,” she sniffled, “but I won’t be able to make it tomorrow. I need to go home.”

  “Home?” I questioned. “Were you not in Chicago?”

  “No, home–home.”

  “Arizona?” I cocked my head to the side and pinched my eyebrows remembering where she was from.

  She nodded and new tears began to pool in her eyes.

  I realized I didn’t know anything about Leslie, nothing at all. I knew she lived in Chicago, worked in finance and met Emilia when she lived in Brazil.

  “I was supposed to wait a while to give this last one to you.” Her hands trembled as she pulled a USB from her purse. “But I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

  “Leslie, what’s going on?” I stepped outside, closing the door behind me.

  “It’s my dad. He isn’t doing so well. I need to go home.” She leaned in and gave me a hug. “I’m sorry for showing up like this, but I really have to go. Merry Christmas, Weston.” She turned on her feet and jogged to the cab that was waiting at the curb.

  “If you need anything, Les, please call!” I shouted.

  She looked back at me when she reached the cab. “I will.” She slid into the cab and I watched it drive away.

  This was the last USB.

  “Daddy, was that Titi Leslie?”

  I stepped back in the house, closed the door, and shoved the drive in my pocket. “Yes, Lyra. She has to go home for some urgent issues, so she won’t be here for Christmas tomorrow.”

  “Oh,” Lyra frowned.

  “It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll see her soon.”

  I’d decided that I wouldn’t watch Emilia’s last note until after Christmas. Leslie had said she was supposed to wait a while before giving it to me, so I figured Emilia wouldn’t want me to have it only seven months after she had passed.

  My plan only lasted until three in the morning. I couldn’t sleep knowing that a few feet away in a box on my nightstand was another message from Emilia. I brought my laptop with me to bed and uploaded the video.

  Emilia lay in the same bed that I was in when she recorded this video. “Hi,” she said weakly. “I stopped treatment.” She paused and her lips trembled. “I’m going to die, Weston, and I honestly don’t know how I feel. I’m scared about leaving you and Lyra, but I’m more afraid of what will happen to you both when I’m gone. I’ve tried to tell you this in person, but I never had the courage to start up the conversation.”

  She brushed away a tear from her eye. “I lived a short life, but because I lived it with you, it was a life filled with happiness, love and laughter. I won’t ever regret a single moment we shared. I love you with everything that I am.” Her voice cracked. “But if you’re watching this I want you to do me one last thing for me.” She closed her eyes. “I want you to live, Weston. I want you to let go of what we had and move forward with your life.” She swallowed and tried to smile.

  “I know that it doesn’t mean that you’ll forget me, but you’re young, and Lyra will need a female in her life. Weston, I’m telling you it’s okay to love again.” I shook my head not agreeing with what she was saying. There was never another person I could love again. “It will give me peace knowing that one day you’ll be happy again. So promise me, Weston. Promise me that one day, when you’re ready, you’ll open your heart to love again because love is what kept me going for all these months. It was your love, our love, the love I have for Lyra. That was the fire behind my fight. So though our love story has come to an end it doesn’t mean you can’t have another one.” She tried to smile.

  “I love you, Weston. I will
always love you. Even through all the universes and eternity’s I will always love you. Until I see you again…”

  Emilia taught me what life was all about. She was the true definition of yellow gel. I would never forget our love story because our memories would continue to live on and on. I wouldn't dwell that this was the last video because if I’ve learned anything, it’s that destiny would bring us together in another lifetime. I couldn’t continue to mourn her death. It was okay to accept that in this lifetime we wouldn’t be together but there would be more for us in the next lifetime.

  Emilia would want me to celebrate her life. Even though it was short–lived, she got to live it. She changed my life and in order to truly appreciate her life and value the meaning of her life and know that she had a purpose no matter how short that time was, I have to continue to go on with mine because if not what's the point?

  All those invisible love letters that we had drawn on each other's bodies would have no value. It would signify that our love had come to an end.

  That wasn’t the case. Our love was like the sun in June. You can’t see the heat, but you can feel it.

  And if there was one thing I was certain of was that our love, though it was invisible to the naked eye, and you could not psychically touch it, you could feel it. And it was fucking endless.

  90

  LYRA

  My arms were crossed over my head in the kitchen as my dad continued to lecture me. I’d never seen him so angry with me.His face was red and he couldn’t meet my gaze. “You can't do it. I won't sign a consent form for you to do it.” He said as he paced around the kitchen table, shaking his head repeatedly.

  I sighed heavily. He thought I was still a baby, and he had to get over the fact that I was growing up. “Dad, I understand your concern, I do.”

  He stopped pacing and looked over at me with a narrow set of eyes. Gray hairs dusted the side of his head. Age was finally catching up with him.

  I continued with my reasoning. “But I'm eighteen, and I don't need you to sign a consent for me. If I want to have a hysterectomy I can do it.”

  He huffed out in frustration, and I swore I could see the smoke come out of his ears. If I had learned anything from my mother, it was to stand up for what you believed in, and I believed that it was in my best interest to remove parts of my body that could give me cancer.

  His face reddened. “There is no way in hell, Lyra, that I'm letting you do the surgery!” He tossed his hands in the air.. “Over my dead body. As long as you live in my house, you will follow my rules. I don’t care how old you are!”

  “If Mom had done it, maybe she’d still be here,” I snapped. This was my body, not his. I wanted to live, and I’d fight for that chance.

  My dad paused. His broad shoulders pinched together, and there was no mistaking the glare in his eyes as he looked at me. “If your Mom had done it when she was eighteen, you would not be here. You and I would not even be having this conversation.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Medicine has changed in the past fifteen years, Lyra. There is no need for you to go and get a full hysterectomy right this second.”

  It wasn’t easy for a single dad to raise a girl on his own, but my dad had done just that. He had given me everything I ever wanted. We’d traveled the world together. I was Daddy’s little girl, but my mother had died of cancer, and so had my grandmother. I was tired of history repeating itself. At the age of fifteen, when I was old enough to understand my body, I decided that I was going to get a hysterectomy. Cancer was in my DNA. Embedded into what made me my mother’s daughter. And I wanted the cycle to end in my family, starting with me. It was a decision that I had researched for three years. And my poor father had learned about this information only five minutes’ prior when I informed him about my consultation

  “I’m sorry. But I want this surgery.”

  “I forbid you!” His voice rose higher than I’d ever heard it causing me to flinch in my chair. . “There is no way. No possible way I’m letting anyone cut into you.”

  He was angry, because he loved me. I was trying to remind myself that as I responded in a calm tone, but it didn’t help. I slapped a hand on the table in anger. “Daddy, I’ve had the consultation. I'm getting the surgery.” I was my mother’s daughter. Stubborn and always sure I’d get the last word.

  His nostrils flared as he shook his head. “There is no way a medical professional is going to do a hysterectomy on an eighteen-year-old. You’re still a child.”

  “Well, if he doesn't, I will find one who will.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  My father inhaled and exhaled slowly. Cupping his hands under his chin, he spoke in a low, authoritative tone. “Lyra, I swear, if you even think about having the surgery, I will lock you in your room. Do not tempt me, young lady. I will take your car away, your credit card, and I will take you off the health insurance.” I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed.

  I was stunned to silence. He wouldn’t dare. He couldn’t be so cruel to his daughter who only wanted the chance to live longer than forty years old.

  His brows lifted high. “Have I made myself clear?”

  I screamed out in frustration. “You're so unfair!” I turned on my heel.

  “I don't care. I'm your father. I'm not supposed to be fair. I'm supposed to protect you. That’s what I promised your mother I would do.”

  Turning back to face him, I felt the anger boil in my blood. “You are so—gah!” I was acting like a child, but I didn't care. I purposely stomped my feet against the hardwood floors until I reached my room. With all my might, I slammed the door behind me, and the noise ricocheted through the house.

  I didn't want to end up like my mother.

  Afraid of having a child.

  Afraid you wouldn't be around to raise your child. Why would I wait for cancer to come and find me if I could just nip it in the bud now? I didn’t want to have children. I just wanted to live to see thirty.

  Feeling defeated, I marched over to my bed and curled up with my oversized pillow. The picture on the nightstand caught my attention. I saw my mother smiling up at me. It was the picture we’d taken at Disneyland when I was five years old. The wind had blown all the powder sugar from her funnel cake onto us.

  My mother looked stunning. She was so young, only a few years older than I was now when she lost her battle. I wasn't being selfish. I wasn't being childish. I loved my mother, and I wanted to be the kind of woman she was. She was smart, outgoing, carefree, and passionate. All qualities I admired.

  But I wanted something she didn’t have, and that was to live a long life.

  Hugging the picture, I laid back on the bed wishing she was here so I could have her guidance. My fingers wrapped around the small frame as I let the memories of my mom invade my mind. An ache in my chest almost stole my breath away as I was reminded just how much I missed her.

  The videos she’d left me were the best gifts I could have asked for. She had made me a video for every possible scenario in my life. Well, not this one, of course. There were a few I still had yet to open. A few that were dated for my older self. And then it really sank in, if she wanted me to live to see them, it would make sense that I’d get the surgery.

  I sighed, and placed the picture of my mother back on the nightstand before my closet. I opened the door, knelt on the ground, and pulled the trundle that contained everything I cherished towards me. I palmed the top of it, my hands shaking from so much emotion coursing through me. I gripped the cold metal lock and flicked it open. Inside I was greeted with, photos, cards, letters, small trinkets, and all the videos she had spent her last few months making for me. My mother had given me all her wisdom, from how to do your makeup to what to do on a first date.

  This box housed her love and carried my happiness.

  Whenever I missed her, I would pop in a video, and she would appear, it was almost as if she were sitting in my room with me. The wonderful part was that each one had been labeled to make it eas
ier to find. My eager fingers dug around until I found the USB that said “Just because” on it. It was a video of her dancing to all of her favorite songs. She believed that any time you were down, you could just shake it off.

  It was my go-to video. And there was no better time than now to watch it.

  Pulling it out of the box, I couldn’t help but notice the USB under it. The word “testing” was written across it. It was my mother looking into the camera repeating, “Testing,” a few times, so I’d never bothered to watch more than that. But for an unknown reason, something pulled at my heart in that moment, telling me to watch that video. I let go of the one in my hand and replaced it with the new one and headed over to my laptop. Connecting the USB to the adapter, the video screen appeared within seconds. My stomach did a little flip and nervously, I hit the play button.

  There she was, my beautiful mother sitting in her computer chair. It didn’t matter how many times I saw her on the screen it was always magical.

  I watched as her face scrunched and then she said. “Hello, is this thing working? Testing? Testing? I seriously should have taken more computer classes in college.” She sighed, and the video paused. But unlike last time, I waited. My heart picked up speed as I did. And then as I was about to replace the USB with another one from the box, my mouth lifted in a smile because my gut was right. A new clip started.

  “I have no idea if this computer is even working. Come on, I have to get this done before Weston comes home with Lyra. Mother of pearl…” she muttered, and my eyes filled with tears. “It's like every year they come out with a new gadget, and I'm oblivious to it all. Testing? Testing?” She looked into the screen and laughed. A laugh that I wanted to hear on a daily basis. And as much as it killed me that I couldn’t, she was still here in her own way. And my cheeks began to ache from the grin that was plastered on my face. My mother shook her head and rolled her eyes. “I swear, Emilia, sometimes I really question how we’ve made it this far.” I couldn’t help but chuckle as she spoke to herself. I assumed she was clueless that the camera was still recording because she continued to talk.