“Don’t give up yet, Kathy. It sounds like you’re getting close!”
While Jason bounced Curtis happily on his good knee, I tentatively asked about Emily.
“She’s doing pretty good. It’s going to take some time before she’s back a hundred percent, since she was out for so long, but she’s got a lot of fire in her, so she’ll be okay.”
“Any aftereffects?”
Jason sighed. “Well, she threw up a lot when she first woke up. And she’s having a hard time walking, and she gets tired fast. She’s had a few seizures, too, but the doctor says that’s to be expected right now. And she’s going to need physical therapy and other kinds of therapy to help her get her motor skills back and everything.”
I mulled this over before asking my next question. “Does she remember what happened?”
Jason shook his head. “No—she has no memory at all of the accident. Which I’m actually happy about. I’m glad she won’t ever remember that.”
I thought about everything Emily now had before her and shook my head. “It doesn’t seem fair that a little girl like Emily has to deal with this. It’s bad enough she was hit by a car, but I had no idea she would have so much healing and rehabilitation to go through. She’s too young to have to go through all of this. It’s not fair!”
Jason shrugged. “My theory is that maybe Heavenly Father’s giving Emily a challenge like this because she’s stronger than we know and needs a bigger challenge in her life right now.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Interesting.” I didn’t know quite what to think of Jason’s theory, but it was wonderful to see that the old Jason was back, stronger than ever. And to get a New Year’s kiss from him, too. New Year’s kisses, that is.
Jason’s words were definitely something to think about. But then, Jason was always giving me something new to think about. I hoped that with everything else that was changing in me and all around me, that was something that would never change.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
When school started up again after New Year’s Day, I knew Mistie and Crystal would have to pick their jaws up off the floor over everything that had happened to me. From the Christmas dance, to Brett’s journal, to Emily’s accident, to Christmas Day and Kelly, to the Book of Mormon and my wish to see the missionaries—I could hardly believe it all myself.
I sighed and reached for Brett’s journal on my night stand and slowly turned its pages. This gift Brett had given to me—everything he’d given me—was still overwhelming. There were no words to describe everything that had happened to me. And the change that was taking place inside of me was truly indescribable.
I smiled as I looked down at the journal. By small and simple things. Who would’ve ever guessed what a small journal would put into motion? Brett probably never guessed that writing a few paragraphs each day to his little sister would result in such truly great things coming to pass. But then again, maybe he did know.
A soft rap on my bedroom door had me calling out, “Come in.” A moment later, Dad opened the door carrying something wrapped in a small blanket.
“Mind if I interrupt you for a minute?”
“Of course not. Come on in.”
Dad shut the door softly and sat down on the edge of my bed beside me, carefully resting the item beside him. “Your mother wants to come in and talk with you, too, but I wanted to talk with you first.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No—nothing’s wrong. We’re just trying to come to grips with everything.” A lot had happened. Kelly had returned with his family for another visit. And he’d had Alex and Julie over for dinner. And he’d even encouraged my parents to let me see the missionaries. “You know, Kathy, I’ve tried hard to be a good father to you—better than I was to Brett. I don’t want you to ever doubt that I love you, the way I know Brett did.”
I reached up and put my arms around him. “I know you love me, Dad. And I love you.”
Dad gently released me after a moment. “There’s something else I want you to know.” He reached out a hand to smooth my hair. “Remember when you asked me what happened to your bear?”
“Tiny Bear?”
Dad nodded. “When Brett passed away, the day he died, here at home, I picked you up out of your crib to carry you out of the room before the ambulance arrived. You were holding your bear—and somehow, you seemed to know Brett was going away and wouldn’t be coming back. You reached your arms out for him and said, ‘Bet!’ When I reached down to let you give him a final kiss, which you did, you placed Tiny in his arms. When Brett was taken away, at your insistence, the bear went with him.”
I didn’t know what to say. I watched the emotions play across Dad’s face as he continued. “That look of determination you had on your little face, even though you were hardly two—I knew it was pointless to try and fight you. Ever since then, whenever I’ve seen that determined look, I’ve known it’s going to be impossible to fight it.” He smiled and shook his head. “You had that same look on your face the first time you asked if you could see the Mormon missionaries, and it hasn’t left your face yet. I know better than to keep fighting it.”
My heart stopped at his words, but before I could get my mouth moving again, Dad reached for the bundle resting beside him and handed it to me. I frowned in confusion, but he simply motioned to me to look inside, and when I did, I gasped.
“Is this—?”
Dad smiled. “The hospital returned your bear to us before Brett’s funeral, and although we all tried to get you to take Tiny back, you only cried and turned away. I didn’t know what your mother did with it after that. I thought somewhere along the line he’d gotten an invitation to the Teddy Bear Picnic but didn’t have the heart to tell you that when you asked about him. When I talked to your mother about it, she told me Tiny had found his way back and showed me where she’d tucked him away in our closet.”
I stared at the faded tan teddy bear in my lap, slowly touching its black felt eyes and worn but still soft ears while Dad continued. “We thought you’d like a little piece of Brett back, since you were so willing to give us such an incredible piece of Brett through his journal.” He patted my leg before hugging me once more. I let the tears slide down my cheeks after he left my room and didn’t move to wipe them away until another knock sounded on my door.
Mom stood hesitantly in the doorway until she saw Tiny Bear in my arms and smiled. I patted my bed, inviting her to sit. She didn’t speak until she’d carefully sat down where Dad had been.
“It’s good to see that old bear with you again. Brings back a lot of memories.”
“Dad told me you kept Tiny for me. Thank you for saving him, Mom.” She nodded, but I continued before she could speak. “Dad also told me—” I hesitated briefly at her questioning look and then moved forward with my words. “Dad said it’s okay for me to see the missionaries. Is that true?”
Mom slowly nodded. “Yes.”
“What made you change your mind?”
Mom sighed and looked away for a moment. “I never could face just how much Brett truly was interested in the Mormon faith. But I’ve read his journal, and I’ve seen his Book of Mormon, and now I know.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Sometimes I’ve wondered if Brett hadn’t been sick when Kelly started to talk to him about his religion whether I would’ve felt differently.” Mom shrugged and looked down at Tiny before looking at me again. “All I knew was that Brett was in enough pain. He didn’t need to be put through more stress. It was hard not to take offense that Kelly, a teenaged friend, believed he had all the answers, when I, Brett’s mother—” Mom shook her head. “It was taking all my strength just to live through one moment to the next.” I hardly dared to breathe, waiting for her to continue. “But you know, Kathy, seeing you become interested in the same religion Brett was interested in has done more than stir up old memories. It’s made me realize what I truly feared most of all.”
I frowned. “What’s that?”
Mom
smiled sadly. “Anything that keeps life from staying the same. You expect and prepare for certain life changes, but terminal illnesses and joining a new religion—how could I prepare myself for such a possibility?” She stood up and walked slowly towards the window with her arms folded and stared outside for a moment before continuing softly. “Brett’s illness was something I wasn’t ready for. And then his interest in Kelly’s faith—” Mom shook her head slowly. “I could only see such a thing as harmful. Something beyond his illness that was separating him from the rest of our family.” She turned to face me. “Seeing you moving in that same direction—I didn’t handle it very well. Too many sad memories went with it.”
“But you’re letting me see the missionaries anyway. Why?”
Mom walked back to sit next to me again and sighed. “Change can bring pain, but it can also be good. I’d forgotten about that.” She stopped and looked at me thoughtfully. “I wouldn’t let myself see the changes for good in Brett, even as he became more and more ill. I was so afraid of what such changes might do to our family, to me—” She sighed and reached out and touched a lock of my hair. “But I’ve seen the same changes in you over the past few months, and I’ve read Brett’s journal, and I’m not so afraid anymore.”
Mom took another deep, ragged breath before continuing. “I refused to acknowledge when Brett was alive just how important this religion was to him. But it was, and it’s important to you, too.” She’d been trying not to cry the whole time she’d been talking to me, and that was making it hard for me not to cry, too. “I’m sorry for trying to keep you from anything that’s important to you.” Mom held her arms out to me then and hugged me while we both cried. When we finally drew apart, Mom reached both hands up behind her neck and unclasped the golden necklace I’d never seen her without. She opened my hand, pressed the locket into my palm, and closed my fingers around it. “I want you to have this, Kathy.”
I gasped. “No—I can’t—Brett gave it to you—it has his pictures inside it!”
Mom frowned in confusion. “Brett’s pictures?”
“Yes.” I opened the locket and showed her. “A picture of him right before he got sick on one side, and his baby picture on the other.”
Mom shook her head in amazement. “That’s not Brett’s baby picture, Kathy. It’s your baby picture. The baby is you.”
I was stunned. I stared at the two tiny faces in the opened locket in my palm before shaking my head and looking at Mom again. “I can’t—Brett gave it to you.”
“And now I’m giving it you,” Mom said firmly. “I want you to have this. Besides, like I told Brett when he gave it to me, I don’t need a locket to keep him close. I have him locked safe in my heart forever.” Mom cupped her hand under my chin and kissed me on the cheek. “Just like I have Alex and Sam—and you, Kathy—in my heart forever.”
EPILOGUE
I was staring at a picture again today, studying it for the hundredth time. In the picture was the image of a dark-haired boy sitting under a tree, smiling down at a tiny little girl snuggled on his lap. I smiled myself, just looking at it. I placed the picture Kelly had taken back in its spot on my dresser, right by Tiny Bear. I’d framed it some time ago and filled an empty space on my dresser with it. I opened the top drawer of my dresser and took out the journal, my special journal from Brett, and hugged it. It, too, had filled an empty space—in my heart—forever.
Mom poked her head around my opened bedroom door. “Well, your visitors are here. Are you ready?”
I nodded. “I’ll be right there.” I quickly returned the journal to its drawer and turned to pick up the book I’d also been reading and rereading a lot lately. My mind raced back a few months to my eventful—fateful—sixteenth birthday. Unlike the journal I’d received that life-changing night, this book had a midnight blue cover and one of the most peculiar titles I’d ever read. Brett had scrawled a message on
the inside front cover in his now-familiar handwriting:
Dear Kitty—
This book was given to me by two amazing guys one day at the hospital during a particularly bad stay. It brought me a lot of comfort during my darkest hours, and now I’m not so scared to die anymore. If this book brought me comfort to face death, then surely it should give you strength to face life. According to what these two teach and what is found in this book, I will see you and everyone in our family again someday. So, although our time together on earth was short, we’ll always have forever.
My heart was pounding after reading those words for about the millionth time. I still couldn’t believe my parents had finally agreed to let me invite two special “visitors” to our house so I could learn more about this book. Jason had offered to come over today, but I’d thanked him and told him no—I wanted to do this on my own. My hands were shaking as I closed the cover, took a deep breath, and walked, clutching the book in my hands, down the hall to the living room.
The two young men in suits and ties stood up when I walked into the room. With huge smiles, they introduced themselves and shook my hand. My heart continued to pound as I nervously smiled back. We all sat down, and one of the young men asked if he could offer a prayer. I nodded, and as I did, my eyes found the laughing, smiling face in a framed picture resting where it always had, on the top shelf of the bookcase in our living room. Only this time, I could have sworn the smile was bigger and happier than it had ever looked before.
The Secret Journal of Brett Colton Page 31