by Stacey Ritz
“Did you hear what’s causing the storm?” Ronnie rolled her eyes. “Or should I say whom?”
Rainie nodded.
“Hurricane Daniel.” They all said at once.
Sarah-Jayne laughed first, breaking the tension. “Of course.”
“Now do you believe in signs?” Ronnie jabbed Rainie in her side.
“Okay, okay.” She threw her hands in the air. “It is kind of…weird.”
“It’s not weird, it’s a sign.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Rainie agreed, smiling.
They ate their cake together, trying their best to ignore the storm, although the lightning let off one violent streak after another, not to be outdone by the rumbling thunder or the thrashing wind that knocked fiercely against the oversized windows.
“Speaking of Hurricane Daniel…” Sarah-Jayne dragged out the words. “Tomorrow?” She was asking if they were okay with spreading Dan’s ashes in the morning.
They all nodded in agreement. “Good timing.” Ronnie added solemnly.
“Meet at sunrise?”
They stayed together on the couch for several hours before heading to their rooms. Rainie thought about calling Milo. She wanted to make sure he and his brothers were safe. She looked at the screen of her phone a dozen times, nearly pressing his name but always changing her mind at the last minute. She’d told him she was leaving. She had said goodbye. Hadn’t she?
“Rainie?” Ronnie broke the silence with her quiet voice, made softer by the backdrop of the angry storm. Rainie had been dozing, her head tilting to its side and resting on the cushion.
Rainie sat up quickly, widening her eyes, convincing herself she hadn’t fallen asleep. What had Ronnie said? Had she said something?
“I know you think signs are silly…but they’re real.”
Rainie nodded and smiled.
“I’m serious. One day you’ll believe me.” Ronnie stammered.
Rainie grabbed her little sisters hand, the way she used to do when they curled up in bed together as children.
“You’re supposed to be here.” She added.
But Rainie quietly wondered why. To spend more time with them? To spread her dad’s ashes? To say a proper goodbye to Milo? The last one, she wasn’t sure she could do.
〜
That night, after they’d all taken turns falling in and out of sleep on the couch, the storm relented. The lightning dissipated and the thunder faded away. Sometime during the night, Sarah-Jayne had awakened, taken their plates to the sink, now empty from the chocolate cake and gently shook the girls awake to let them know the worst of the storm had passed. Slowly, they each flittered off to their individual rooms in the dark. Sarah-Jayne and Ronnie each quickly drifted back to sleep once their heads reached their comfortable pillows. Rainie, however, sat awake, her candle still lit on her nightstand. She opened the drawer and pulled out a piece of paper and pencil and began to write.
Dad,
I tried my very best to love you. I tried with everything I had in me. How many times did you promise to choose us over the bottle? And how many times did you lie? I’ll answer for you: every time.
Because of you, I’ve learned how not to treat others. Because of you, I’ll never take a drink. I am clear on why I never should and never will. Because of you, I know how not to raise my future children and how to never treat my spouse. Sadly, when it comes to my memo ries with you, the bad outweigh the good. There are some good memories though, and I’m grateful for those. I truly am. But Dad, every day you had a choice. And every day, you chose the bottle over us. Your love for alcohol won day after day. It was your true love, it was what you lived for, it was your priority. It was your choice. Not getting help was also your choice. Being dishonest was your choice, too. Using us was your choice.
Because of you, I know that words matter. Actions matter, both grand and small . I’ve learned that love matters. And above all, honesty matters .
When you’d quit work or run away from home for weeks or months at a time, you didn’t just leave your job, you left us . Not just Mama, but your two daughters. You taught me again and again that I can’t depend on someone else. I have to depend on myself. I watched M ama try and help you and I learned that you can’t control another person, you can only control your own actions and reactions.
I love you. You are and always will be my dad. I love the good memories we have and I will always cherish those moments, no matter how evanescent they are. But I won’t let you make me feel guilty anymore for leaving home. And I won’t feel guilty for not saving you. I tried. Mama tried. We all tried in our own way; all of us, except you. I will no longer feel gu ilty for leaving M ama and Ronnie behind when I left home. I had to go. But now, in your perpetual absence, we have a chance to reconnect.
As we scatter you r ashes into the wind that hang s above the ocean waves, I’m letting go of the guilt that was wrongly placed on m y shoulder’s years ago. I hope M ama and Ronnie do the same. You called us “just weak women” on more than one occasion. I want to let you know, we are not “just” anything. We’re strong. I know this because of what you put us through. All of that, and we’re still standing. We’re still smiling. We’re resilient. We are so many wonderful things that you didn’t see .
It ’s odd, D ad. I’ve spent years carrying this guilt. I’ve wasted too much time being angry. I don’t know if it’s the lightness of the ocean air or the significance of your absence, maybe both, but I’m letting go of those things not meant for me . They were misplaced burdens and I’m pushing them, like heavy stone s, off of me. I hope, wherever you are, that you find peace. We all deserve that much. And if you have any pull in what happens here on Earth, I hope you’ll make t hings right for all of us; for M ama, Ronnie and me. You’ve taught me a lot, although not while utilizing the tools of love and compassion. Still, I’ve learned a lot about the person I don’t want to be and the person I do. And I will always know that our choices matter, every little one.
Love,
Rainie
A single tear dropped from Rainie’s cheek, plopping onto the letter with a dull plunk. She didn’t re-read the note, she’d written the words straight from her heart. Instead, she reached for the candle on her nightstand and held the paper over it, letting the yellow-hued flame engulf her words. Holding the letter over the bathroom garbage can, she watched it slowly burn. The paper went up in flames, word by word eradicated by the placid fire glowing before her blue eyes.
Her letter sat, a lifeless pile of black ashes in the bottom of the metal can until she woke with the rise of the sun. Rainie blinked once and then stood confidently from bed, can in hand and walked to the living room of the beach house. The house was quiet. Her mom was in her own room, trying to make something out of her mess of yarn. Ronnie was probably still sleeping. Rainie set the can on the floor beside her feet and reached her hands out to touch the urn for the first time. She pressed her lips together, blinking back tears and smoothly opened the urn. It was surprisingly light. For whatever reason, she’d expected it to feel heavy, to weigh her down when she held it in her hands. Her dad had been so tall, so domineering. And now? Now he was nearly weightless in her fingers. She hugged the urn to her chest before pushing it away and smoothly opening its top. She grabbed the metal can and poured the ashes from her letter into the urn. Once the ashes were added, she placed the lid back in place and hugged the urn once more before returning it to the window sill. Tears sprang in her eyes as a lightness overtook her heart. Her forehead crinkled as she let go of her dad and stepped away.
For the first time in her life, she could breathe.
〜
Sarah-Jayne slid the diamond ring from her left hand. She kissed it once before tying a small string around the band. Attached to the string, was a tiny scrap of paper where she’d written a single word. Love. She had quietly opened Dan’s urn and placed the ring inside on their second night at the beach house, once the girls had gone to sleep. She pressed the cold urn agai
nst her cheek and kissed it once before letting it go.
〜
The night Ronnie found out she was pregnant, she had tip-toed to the living room and grabbed the urn. She’d carried her dad’s ashes back to her room and closed the door. Everyone was asleep. She assumed no one would know she had borrowed the urn for the night. Was it strange that after telling her mom and sister about the positive pregnancy tests, she had wanted to tell her dad? Of course, she had wanted to tell Andrew too, but he’d needed to answer the phone. She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell her dad. She hadn’t talked to him in years. But somehow, his ashes felt much safer than his physical presence. In this form, she oddly felt that he could be the dad she’d needed him to be. She could talk to him the way she thought a daughter should be able to talk to her father. She was scared. Was she ready to be a parent? Was Andrew?
Ronnie set the urn on her nightstand and curled into a tight ball in her bed, pulling the covers up to her chin, the way she had done when she was a child when she had been scared after waking up from a terrible nightmare. “Daddy, I’m pregnant.” She’d whispered. “I’m going to be a mom.” She paused, feeling her throat tighten. “That makes you a grandpa.”
She’d fallen asleep that night, her fingers resting on the urn. She woke with the rise of the sun and hurriedly placed the urn back on the window sill before anyone had left their rooms.
〜
The three women stood on the beach at sunrise. Ronnie reached for Rainie’s hand and Rainie took it without hesitation. Sarah-Jayne held the urn against her chest, her feet overtaken by the whitewater of the choppy waves crashing into the sand. The sea was still angry from last night’s storm, yet, as each hour passed, the waves visibly started to relax. Sarah-Jayne looked behind her at her daughters, before opening the urn and releasing their past. Each of their eyes were hidden by oversized sunglasses, matching brown brindle print glasses Ronnie had bought them on the first full day in Corolla.
Rainie and Ronnie nodded in unison and Sarah-Jayne pressed her lips together, forcing a grin before turning back to the waves. She whispered something, though it was inaudible to her daughters, as she opened the urn’s top. She dipped her fingers inside and freed the first of Dan’s ashes. They watched quietly as he drifted off into the sea. Turning, Sarah-Jayne handed the open urn to Ronnie, who reached her hand inside and released a spray of ashes against the fierce wind coming off the ocean. A moment later, the urn was passed to Rainie and she did the same. None of the women spoke.
When Rainie handed the urn back to her mom, Sarah-Jayne gently tilted the urn on its side, liberating the remainder of Dan’s ashes. No one said a word when a shiny object emptied from the container and rode an angry wave before sinking into the ocean. And no one commented on the larger ashes that floated like pieces of confetti paper, drifting above them in the wind. Instead, the three women watched in silence, each engulfed in their own memories of Dan. Each breathing in the fresh sea air, their hair flying wildly around them. The cawing sounds of the morning seagulls searching for breakfast filled the air. The large orange sun rose higher on the horizon, looking as if it were being slowly birthed from the ocean itself. The waves roared with furry as they crashed into the sand, one after another, slowly losing steam with each passing hit.
The three women lingered for a moment and then turned as the ashes of their past disappeared from sight. They walked back to the yellow beach house in silence, their arms lightly tapping each other’s as they moved, their eyes hidden by their oversized sunglasses, their faces solemn and their bare feet warmed by the sand. They were each walking back to something new, something different. They were each starting over, a weight having lifted from their shoulders. What came next was up to each of them. After all, Dan had showed them, in an odd way, that life was about choices. And now it was time for each of them to make their next choice.
〜
Ronnie answered the door at the sound of the knock. Sarah-Jayne was on the couch, sitting in the middle of her pile of cream colored yarn, looking bewildered. Rainie was in her room, on a call with Rebecca about the sanctuary. Ronnie was fairly certain she knew who was on the other side of the door and she had been given strict instructions to tell him Rainie had left, as she’d intended. Ronnie hadn’t wanted to pry, although she had been plenty curious about Rainie and Milo’s situation. From her perspective, it was clear they both had feelings for each other. It was clear that if soulmates truly existed, they were each other’s.
Ronnie tried to fend off the jealously that crept through her bones. Why wasn’t Andrew her soulmate? She was sure he wasn’t and if she was being honest, she had known this all along. Yes, Andrew was having an affair but that’s not what struck her. Seeing Milo and Rainie together again reminded her of what true love was and it wasn’t what she had with Andrew. It never had been. On paper their relationship looked good. They were six years apart in age. They loved their home together in Blue Ash. Andrew’s squinty eyes and constant humming may have been annoying to some, but to her, they were always endearing qualities. They both had wanted children. She paused, resting her hand on her stomach, imagining how much she was going to grow in the months to come. They had loved each other, hadn’t they? She couldn’t put her finger on exactly why they weren’t soulmates, but she knew they weren’t. Was it because they weren’t best friends, like Milo and Rainie? Or was it some cosmic force that simply couldn’t be described?
“Milo.” Ronnie opened the door, greeting him with a soft smile.
“Hi, Ronnie. Are you all okay from last night’s storm?” He cleared his throat and placed his hands nervously in his pockets while smiling back at her.
“Oh, we’re fine. It was quite a storm though, wasn’t it? We’re lucky the hurricane didn’t make landfall.”
He nodded, meeting her eyes.
Ronnie felt she needed to say something. She had known Milo for years. She’d grown up with him as much as Rainie had. Rainie had toted her along to his house on many occasions. Yet, she could never recall a time when they’d been left alone. And now, years later as grown adults, they were standing face to face, alone in the doorway of the beach house with nothing to say. Clearly, Rainie had been the glue that held them together. Without her presence, everything felt awkward and wrong. They had become familiar strangers. Not knowing what else to do, Ronnie continued babbling. “Our electricity went out, we lit candles. The wind was so fierce we thought it was going to knock out one of the windows facing the ocean. And the worst of the storm happened in the dark.” Her eyes widened as she recalled the events of last night. “How about you and your brothers? Did you lose electricity at your beach house?”
“We did. I tried to call Rainie, but none of our phones were picking up a signal. I tried to drive here and made it a few miles before the road was closed. The police were standing guard and wouldn’t let anyone through.” He shook his head. “I had hoped since you all were a little further North than us, that maybe the storm wasn’t as bad this way. But…when I drove up this morning and saw the destruction the storm left in its aftermath, I can tell the storm took its toll here, too.”
“Destruction?”
“Power lines down, flooded spots on the roads, debris…” He looked around, using his hand to shield his eyes from the bright sun.
Ronnie nodded as she and Milo drifted back into an awkward silence once again. She should have invited him in, that’s how she would normally behave with a visitor, but she was under strict orders from Rainie to tell Milo she had left as planned, and she wasn’t about to defy her older sister. Rainie was fabulously kind, but she was also incredibly stern at times and this was one of those times. When they were little, Ronnie called her Queen Lynn whenever Rainie was at her bossiest.
“Is Rainie still here?” He cleared his throat again.
Ronnie looked around nervously. She wasn’t good at lying and she didn’t want to lie to Milo. He was sweet and she knew how much he loved Rainie. How much he’d always loved Rainie.
She wished more than anything that Andrew had loved her that way. Ronnie shook her head.
“Oh.” Milo said, lowering his head. “I thought maybe…with the storm, that she had decided to stay another night…” He looked past Ronnie into the house, spotting Sarah-Jayne on the couch amongst her pile of yarn.
Ronnie cleared her throat, intentionally meeting his eyes while widening her own.
Milo watched Ronnie’s eyes move from his to the driveway. The breeze from the ocean was surprisingly strong after last night’s storm. Ronnie stepped out onto the deck beside him and closed the front door so she no longer had to hold it open against the wind. She cleared her throat once more and met his eyes, moving hers slowly to the driveway. And then he saw it. Rainie’s white Jeep. She was still here.
Ronnie pressed her finger to her lips and looked back at the house. Rainie’s room sat at the back of the house facing the Sound, there was no chance she could see them from her bedroom window.
“Thanks!” Milo patted Ronnie’s back, something he’d always done when she had been a child, endlessly following the two of them around. He grinned and waved his hand at her as he turned to head down the steps of the beach house.
Rainie’s car was unlocked. He reached inside and opened the middle console, pulling out a pen and a small piece of paper. Like Ronnie, he knew Rainie well enough to know that staying and pleading with her to come out of the house and talk to him wasn’t going to get him anywhere. He needed to let her come around on her own time. Admittedly, he was happy she had stayed, despite the reason. He wished she would have called him. He wished she would come out and talk to him. But Rainie Lynn had told him more than once that he knew her better than anyone in the world. And part of knowing her meant that he knew she needed space right now and Milo wanted to give her whatever it was that she needed, no questions asked. Although he longed to see her, he longed more for her to open up to him.