Nineteen Letters

by Jodi Perry

  ‘No, you didn’t. You rang them almost daily to check on her. You had every intention of coming back for her when you were ready.’

  Her gaze moves down to the grass below. ‘I can’t believe I did that to her.’

  ‘Hey, it’s okay.’ I reach for her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. Every fibre of my being wants to pull her into my arms again, but I don’t. I don’t want to risk spoiling her day by overstepping the mark. ‘It wasn’t like that. You never stopped loving her, Jem. There was no way we could’ve brought her back to our place. You did what was best for her, she has room to run around here.’

  She shrugs, but I can tell she’s not convinced. It was one of the hardest decisions she ever made.

  ‘Call out to her,’ I encourage.

  She lifts her hands to her mouth again. ‘Tilly-Girl!’ she screams.

  We hear her before we see her. The sound of hooves pounding against the hard ground fills the air. Moments later she comes bounding over a small hill, heading straight towards us. Jemma’s eyes are fixed on the horse, and mine are fixed on her. I’m grinning from ear to ear at the delight I see on her face.

  ‘My Tilly-Girl,’ she whispers, her smile bright.

  The horse comes to a stop a few metres away from us, and stares at Jemma briefly before reverting into her familiar dance of leaping and spinning around all at once. It’s amusing to watch, and I hear Jemma giggle beside me. Tilly-Girl doesn’t have the youthful energy she once had, but I love that she still does this.

  Tilly-Girl finally stills before slowly walking towards the fence. Jemma does the same, that ever-present pull drawing them together. I hear her sweet laugh when the horse rubs her face up against the side of Jem’s. When she’s finished with her greeting, Jemma throws her arms around the horse’s neck, kissing the side of her face. Just like she used to do.

  ‘Tilly-Girl.’ I see a lone tear roll down Jem’s cheek. ‘My Tilly-Girl.’

  NINETEEN

  Jemma

  ‘Morning,’ Christine says as I enter the kitchen and take a seat at the table.

  ‘Morning.’

  She leans down and kisses my head. ‘That smile on your face makes me so happy.’

  ‘I had a great time yesterday.’ I’m still on a high from my day with Braxton on the farm.

  Without replying, she turns and walks towards the stove and starts to make my breakfast. Even after all this time I can tell she’s still hurting from her parents’ death.

  She reacted strangely when I first told her Braxton and I were going there, and I found her crying in the kitchen a few minutes later. After what Braxton shared with me yesterday, I understand why she would feel that way.

  I hear my phone ding with a message and I can’t help but smile. I get the occasional text from Rachel, or Stephen, but I’m already hoping it’s from Braxton. A fluttery feeling settles in the pit of my stomach when I see his name on the screen.

  Morning. Hope you slept well. I just wanted to thank you for yesterday. I had a great time.

  I reply straightaway. I had an amazing day. Thank you. I’m still smiling.

  My phone beeps again a few moments later. I’m happy to hear that. I’ve always loved to see you smile.

  Christine interrupts my thoughts as she places a mug of coffee down in front of me.

  Before I get a chance to reply, another message comes through. I did some research when I got home last night, in regards to those crazy goats. They’re called myotonic ‘fainting’ goats. Apparently, they have a hereditary mutant gene, and when they’re excited or startled their muscles stiffen temporarily, causing them to fall over.

  Just thinking about that moment has me giggling. ‘What’s so funny?’ Christine asks.

  ‘Braxton,’ I reply. ‘He just reminded me of something funny that happened yesterday, that’s all.’

  I don’t go into detail. Christine was very quiet when I got home last night. She usually asks me for the details of my day, but not about my trip to the farm. Clearly hearing anything about her parents is still too raw for her.

  ‘It’s good to see you two getting on again.’

  I nod my head and sip my coffee. I am enjoying my time with him. We’re still a long way from where we apparently used to be, but it’s not hard to see how I once loved him.

  Placing my mug down, I type my reply. That must’ve been what happened yesterday when you scared them.

  I only scared them because you made me. His reply makes me laugh. I don’t know why I was so scared of some silly goats, but I was.

  Thank you for being my knight in shining armour.

  His reply comes through almost instantly. It was my pleasure. It’s quickly followed by another message. I’m about to head out, I have plans. Enjoy your day.

  You too.

  I place my phone back in the pocket of my jacket after replying, and although I’m still smiling, I find myself wondering what his plans are. Apart from the times he takes me to my appointments, or his occasional visits, I have no idea what he does in his own time.

  Christine places two plates of scrambled eggs and toast on the table, before taking a seat beside me. ‘It was late when you got home last night.’

  ‘It was. It was already dark by the time we left the farm.’ I see her squirm in her seat. ‘The place looks great. Stephen … I mean Dad, has been paying someone to look after it.’ The way her eyes widen tells me she knew nothing of this. ‘Braxton said Dad wants it to be perfect for you when you decide to go back.’

  ‘That’s nice of him,’ she says, in a clipped tone, ‘but he needn’t have bothered. I have no intention of going back there.’

  In light of what Braxton told me yesterday about Ma’s death, I feel like I understand her so much better. Especially the mood swings.

  ‘What happened between you and Dad?’

  Christine exhales a long breath before standing. ‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ she snaps as she collects her plate and walks towards the sink. She didn’t even finish her breakfast.

  Although her back is to me, I see her raise her hand to wipe her eyes, and I know she’s crying. It’s obvious that whatever happened between my parents, she’s still hurting because of it.

  Rising from my chair, I make my way towards her. Her body stiffens when I slide my arms around her waist from behind.

  ‘Whatever it was, I’m sorry, Mum.’ I feel her relax when I rest my cheek against her back. ‘And I’m sorry about Ma and Pa.’ I feel a lump rise to my throat as I speak, I’m struggling to comprehend it all. I wish I could remember them; well, maybe not those parts, but the good times.

  ‘The past is in the past, and that’s where it needs to stay,’ she whispers.

  I sit out on the back patio enjoying the sunshine for much of the morning. There’s been a definite shift in me, and I actually feel gratitude for being alive. I no longer want to lock myself away and hide from the world.

  It’s Sunday, so I have no place to be. It’s weird no longer having a career at my age. I often wonder about it, and what my life was like prior to the accident.

  I have left Christine to herself; it’s clear she needs some time alone. Braxton had plans, so I will be on my own until Rachel visits this afternoon.

  My mind drifts to Braxton. He occupies my thoughts a lot lately. I was surprised at my need to drag out our visit to the farm for as long as I could. I definitely felt a connection to that place, it was beautiful, but I think it had more to do with the company.

  Placing my coffee cup down on the small table beside me, I pick up the pile of Braxton’s letters and remove the elastic band I’ve been using to keep them together. I open the first one, starting at the very beginning. I reread them every chance I get. It’s all that I have left of my past, and I’m hoping if I read them enough, the memories will become permanently ingrained in my mind. They have become my lifeline.

  Once the last letter is read, I carefully fold it and place it back in the envelope. A contented sigh falls from my lips a
s I settle back into my chair. My eyes are focused on the large tree in the yard. It’s the only one, so it must be the one that Braxton fell out of. Suddenly I’m curious.

  I walk towards it and look up into the branches above. It’s far too high for me to climb. Without thinking, I turn and head straight for the garage. I remember seeing a large extendable ladder resting up against the wall one day when I wandered in there. I carefully lift it and lay it down on the concrete floor. It’s much heavier than I anticipated. I try to be quiet as I pick it up and carry it to the yard. If Christine discovers what I’m doing, she’s likely to blow a gasket. Her overprotectiveness isn’t lost on me. In all fairness, I’d probably be the same if it was my child.

  Laying it out on the grass, it takes me a few minutes to figure out how to extend it to full height, before locking it into place. A small groan escapes me as I haul it up and manoeuvre it against the trunk of the tree.

  I make sure it’s securely fixed in place before I start to climb. I feel none of the crippling fear that Braxton mentioned in his letter. Heights obviously aren’t something I’m afraid of. The higher I get, the more disappointed I become. So far I’ve seen nothing engraved into the trunk. There’s still a lot of tree above, and I’ve almost reached the top of the ladder.

  That’s when I notice the broken branch. It’s about a metre above my head. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I climb one more step and slowly make the transition from the ladder to the large branch that sits below the broken one. I hope it can hold my weight.

  It would have made more sense to just ask Braxton what he carved into the tree, but I feel compelled to see it with my own eyes. I was carving my heart into that trunk. My deepest, darkest secret. I need to know what that was.

  My fingernails dig into the bark as I get my footing right before stretching my body upwards. At first I don’t see it, but then I notice a heart that has blended into the bark over the years. Engraved within this heart are letters and a word: BS loves JR. The sight of it touches me deeply.

  He voiced it out loud not long after I got out of hospital, which made me feel extremely uncomfortable, but things have changed between us since then. Our renewed friendship is starting to blossom.

  I’m not sure if it’s because the young Braxton took the time to do this despite his crippling fear of heights. Or maybe I’m just scared that I’ll never feel the things I once did, and won’t get to experience that once-in-a-lifetime love again. Nevertheless, I’m completely overcome by my emotions. I slide my arms around the tree, hugging it with all my might, and I do something I haven’t done since I woke from my coma. I sob my heart out.

  ‘Hi, Dad,’ I say when he rises from his chair and kisses my cheek. He called me last night and invited me to lunch. It worked out well, because Braxton dropped me off after my physio and I didn’t have to hurt Stephen’s feelings by telling him Christine doesn’t want him anywhere near the house.

  ‘Hi, pumpkin. You look well.’

  I find myself smiling at his pet name for me. I wouldn’t have known that if it wasn’t for the letters.

  ‘Thank you. I feel great.’

  Well, a lot better than I used to feel, anyway. I have the will to live now, and as much as I yearn to be the person I once was, I’m beginning to come to terms with the fact that may never happen. But it doesn’t mean I have to stop living, or that I can’t enjoy the future that lies ahead. I’m already starting to make new memories.

  ‘How’s rehab going?’

  ‘Really well. Starting next week, I only have to go two days instead of five.’

  ‘That’s wonderful news.’

  It is wonderful news, but there is a part of me that’s disappointed, because it means I might not get to see Braxton every day.

  ‘How are things going at the bank?’

  ‘Great … busy.’

  I smile before speaking again. ‘Can I ask you a favour?’

  ‘Sure. Anything,’ he replies.

  I reach into my bag and pull out the envelope that contains my memory bracelet and charms. ‘Could you attach these for me?’ I open the flap and tip them out into the palm of my hand to show him. ‘I don’t have the tools to do it myself.’

  ‘I can certainly do that for you,’ he says.

  I had thought about asking Braxton to do it, but I want to see the look on his face when he notices it on my wrist.

  ‘There’s a list inside the envelope with the order I need them in. Hopefully I’ll have more to add to it. Can we leave room for them?’

  ‘Anything you want, pumpkin.’ Again, I smile when he calls me that. ‘Where are these charms from?’

  ‘Braxton.’

  He nods his head as he takes the envelope from me, placing it in the pocket of his suit jacket. ‘Are you ready to order?’

  ‘I am. I’m starved.’

  ‘Me too,’ he says smiling. ‘I’ve taken an extended lunch break, so there’s no rush. Spending time with my little girl is more important.’

  I pick up the menu off the table, and suddenly the number of choices makes me anxious.

  ‘The club sandwiches here are delicious,’ Stephen says in a kind voice.

  ‘That sounds great.’ I place the menu down on the table. ‘I’ll have one of those.’ I have no idea what a club sandwich is, but I’ll take my chances.

  ‘Braxton took me out to the farm on the weekend,’ I say once our order is placed. ‘Thank you for keeping up with the maintenance on the property, that’s really nice of you.’

  ‘There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for your mother,’ he says simply. ‘Or for you.’

  I look down at the white linen tablecloth as I ponder my next words. This seems like the perfect opportunity to ask what I’ve been dying to know. ‘You can tell me to mind my own business, but what happened between you two?’

  My father clears his throat, as his gaze moves down to the table. I’m suddenly unsure if I’m ready for his response, but there’s a part of me that needs to know. I don’t understand how all this bitterness can have come from what was once a wonderful marriage.

  ‘There’s no easy way to say it, I suppose.’ He pauses, then sighs. ‘I cheated on your mother.’

  I have no control over the gasp that falls from my lips. ‘You what?’ I feel my eyes widen as I speak.

  ‘I’m sorry you have to go through all this again. It was bad enough I broke your mother’s heart, but I broke yours as well. You didn’t speak to me for more than a month afterwards. The past few years have been tough on us all.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I have no excuse for what I did, but for you to fully understand, it’s best I start at the beginning.’

  My head is spinning as I wait for him to continue. Poor Christine.

  He tugs at the tie around his neck, loosening it slightly. ‘Your mum was devastated after her father died, and rightly so, but to lose both her parents in such a close proximity was unimaginable.’ I slide my hands off the table and place them on my lap. ‘When we arrived at the farm after her mother’s death, she was inconsolable. To the point she was admitted into hospital and sedated.’

  I watch him, unsure what I can say.

  ‘Seeing the woman I love like that was hard,’ he continued. ‘So hard.’

  ‘If you loved her so much, how could you cheat on her?’

  He bows his head before answering. ‘The weeks, months—and year that followed were hard. The death of your grandparents changed your mother. She fell into a deep depression. She no longer smiled, she hardly ate, or slept for that matter, and over time she totally shut me out. She shut us all out.’ He pauses and runs his hand over his face. ‘She refused to get help. I never stopped loving her, but you need to understand that it was hard for me too. You were already living with Braxton. I felt incredibly alone.’

  ‘So, you found someone else to give you what you weren’t getting at home?’ My words come out more aggressively than intended, but it appears he abandoned my mother when she needed h
im most.

  ‘No. It wasn’t like that. Karen was my secretary. She’d been working for me for over fifteen years. She noticed the shift in me … I think everyone did, I was miserable. After a lot of persuasion, she finally convinced me to open up. Truth is, I needed someone to talk to … I certainly couldn’t talk to your mother. We ended up developing a close friendship. That’s all it was. That is until one night we went out for drinks after work.’ He exhales, and I don’t like where this is heading. ‘We shared a cab home. The driver dropped her off first, so I walked her to the door … I ended up kissing her goodnight. It wasn’t just a peck, either.’

  ‘I see.’ I can’t seem to hide my disappointment. ‘And?’

  ‘And that’s it. She invited me in, and I told her no. That kiss was a mistake. I loved your mother, I still do. I left immediately and the guilt I felt on the way home ate away at me. Your mother had moved out of our bedroom a few months earlier. She’d been sleeping in your old room. That night I tossed and turned, and in the morning I confessed everything. Your mother was upset, with good reason. She slapped me across the face and then told me to leave.’

  I take a few moments to let his words settle in. ‘So, you only kissed her? It never went further than that?’

  ‘No. But that was bad enough.’ When his voice cracks it makes my heart hurt. I don’t condone what he did, but in a way I understand it. ‘I made the biggest mistake of my life, and lost the best thing that had ever happened to me in the process.’

  ‘Oh, Dad.’ Reaching across the table, I cover his hand with mine.

  ‘I miss her so much,’ he confesses, bowing his head and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

  He’s hurting just as much as she is. I may not know a lot about either of them, but any fool can see that they’re miserable without each other.

  My father offers to drive me home after our long lunch, but I opt to take the bus. One, because I don’t want to upset Christine by having him near the house, and two, because I need time to digest everything he told me. I don’t know how, but I’m going to find a way for my parents to at least communicate. Stephen said after she kicked him out she refused to talk to him. I’m not taking sides—I sympathise with them both—but I think it’s time for them to forgive and move forward. Life is too short.