“My dad—”
“Your dad was an awesome dad. And yes, your dad loved your mom. But your dad also loved you. Your mom died from complications with childbirth, but that wasn’t your fault and he never blamed you. If anything, he went out of his way to make sure you didn’t blame yourself. Sahara, he would be pissed if he were here and saw you squandering your life, taking the blame for something you didn’t do. Your dad was a brave man who risked his life every day in the field he was in. That’s why he had that money and generous life insurance policy put away for you. He knew the risks Sahara and although this wasn’t a typical situation, he was responding to a call. If God deemed it time for him to go, then regardless of if it was Chris Cole being a drunken idiot or an armed robbery… It’s not up to us when we go Sahara.” Emily wasn’t mincing words and was speaking the way only a best friend could.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have a comeback. I’ve never attempted to say most of those words to anyone other than Ty and I was sobbing too hard to have a conversation about it. And then he was gone the next morning, I remembered painfully. But having the conversation with Emily made me uncomfortable because she was shining light on things I tried to forget. I tried very hard never to remember anything but my own guilt and my deserved misery. It haunted me in my sleep; while awake, I did everything in my power to keep the thoughts at bay. Still holding on to my guilt and shame, I started talking specifically about her. It was my fault Emily—you know it and I know it.
“You had plans. You had a dream—” I said emphatically.
“I loved to dance Sahara. I did. It made me feel sexy and free. But what was I going to do? Move to New York and go to Broadway? Let’s be honest, I was never good enough to do that. I loved to dance, but I wasn’t going to make a living as a dancer. You know what I’m good at…teaching. And you know what I’m passionate about…the art of dance. So you know what I’m doing—opening up a dance studio. So no, I can’t dance like I used to. But you know what? I walked away from that accident with my life!” Emily yelled with tears in her eyes. “The shattered legs didn’t do as much damage as losing my best friend did.” She wiped at her eyes.
Why didn’t it ever occur to me that it could be worse for her if I left? I wondered as I wiped my own wet eye. “Please understand that I blamed myself and I’ve lived with the fear that you’ll tell me that I ruined your life, that you blamed me for everything. For the last ten years, even though I knew that it was my fault, hearing that you blamed me for ruining your life would kill me. I thought it would be for the best if you didn’t have a constant reminder of the person who took dance away from you.” My breath hitched as I fought an impending sob.
“Sahara, I’m happy. If you didn’t have so much guilt and self-sabotaging going on, you’d realize that. Over the years, I’ve told you in my emails of all the good things I have going on.”
“I thought you were sparing my feelings. I thought because I made you promise to never bring it up, I thought you were just saying you were happy.”
“Look at me. I am happy. I can walk. I can run. I can still dance. I can’t do complicated routines, but I dance my ass off. I am a business owner and I am a teacher and I have my own dance studio. It’s the combination of everything I love. I love my life. I just always felt like I was missing something. And that something wasn’t dance. Sahara, it was you; I’ve missed my sister.”
I wasted all this time scared of her reaction and all she ever wanted was my friendship, my true friendship, I thought in disbelief. Clearing my head, I tried to see beyond my own guilt to evoke the memories of that time in my life. And it boiled down to me being scared. When I looked at the facts, I ran away guiltily. I didn’t testify against Cole during the trial. I was without my mom and dad. I knew that I convinced Emily to go to the party. I knew I was the one who called Emanuel. I knew what the doctors told me as I watched them in their hospital beds, weak and unmoving. I knew the sadness I felt as I watched their parents keep vigil by their bedsides. I was scared and I felt guilty. And my support system was either dead or in the hospital as a patient or a parent of a patient.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think of it like that.” I said quietly. “I tried not to think of it at all. It hurt too much.” I looked her straight in her eyes and forced myself to speak up, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I left you. I was wrong for leaving, especially while you were still recovering.”
The therapist I saw in undergrad dealt with the post-traumatic stress disorder from the accident, but the guilt settled into my soul. The therapist did what she could but there was no way I could move past how guilty I felt. The guilt gutted me and made a home in the pit of me. It made me cold and unresponsive to anything but art. I knew I was guilty. I knew how to deal with that. And talking to the therapist didn’t do anything but reaffirm that guilt. But sitting here now talking it out with Emily was different…it made me feel confused. Did I remember something wrong? Could it not have been entirely my fault, I thought as my mind became muddled with conflicting viewpoints. Is it possible that I’m not the cause of what happened on May 2, 2003? Is it possible that I don’t destroy the lives of those I love? I don’t know.
“I don’t know,” I sighed, feeling unsure and a little dizzy. “You may feel that way but I’m sure Emanuel doesn’t. He had a chance to live out his dream and go play basketball in Italy.”
“Yeah he did. And he didn’t get to go. And yes, that sucked. It was an opportunity that he lost because of a drunk driver, not because of you.” Emily leaned toward me, her eyes pleading with me to understand.
“Well when I apologized to him, he kept yelling at me to explain my apology. He blames me for not being able to go to Italy. I just—I don’t know. I know I’m responsible and I know it’s selfish, but I don’t want him to hate me.”
“Sahara, he doesn’t blame you. We felt like we lost a part of us. You just left. And that didn’t just rock my world, it rocked his too. Look at it from his point of view. He woke up from his coma and you were gone with no forwarding address. I mean, it’s his business to tell, not mine. I just want you to understand that that’s what he meant about the apology. So believe me, he doesn’t hate you.”
“I didn’t think he would want to see me or hear from me. I had no idea. I really didn’t know. I didn’t. I called the hospital every day to check on his status. Once I knew he had woken up, that’s when I gave you my new email address. If anything would’ve happened to him, I wouldn’t have forgiven myself. And I know you and your family wouldn’t have forgiven me either. Did he really think I just left and didn’t give him a second thought while he was in a coma? No wonder he hates me,” I groaned miserably as I rubbed my temple.
Emily’s voice was low when she started talking. “Listen… he doesn’t hate you.”
“I can take it Emily. I deserve it. I deserve it,” I repeated as I fought to keep the tears from falling.
“Sahara, Manny doesn’t hate you!” Emily growled in frustration.
Closing my eyes, I said, “I’ll give him the apology he deserves tomorrow. But I don’t know how brunch is going to go.” I pressed my temples harder to stop the pounding.
Suddenly, Emily jumped to her feet, startling me. My eyes followed her as she paced in front of the couch. “Emily...” I said slowly, not sure what had her on edge. “I’m still going to the brunch. I was just saying I don’t think Emanuel—”
“He loves you! He’s in love with you! He’s never gotten over you Sahara!” Emily yelled with tears in her eyes.
My eyes widened. Oh shit…
Chapter 20
I felt my heart pound in my chest as I processed what Emily just said. He’s in love with me? He never got over me? I thought incredulously. “What?” I asked. My mouth was slightly agape as I tried to understand the information that was just imparted on me.
The color drained from Emily’s face as she realized what she said. “Oh no…no,” Emily uttered. She plopped down on the couch b
eside me and put her head in her hands. “Forget I said that.”
“I don’t think I understand what you mean Emily,” I whispered, my disbelief evident in my shocked tone of voice. I leaned forward and searched her face.
“Sahara, I shouldn’t have said anything,” Emily said in a quiet voice.
“You said that he never got over me?” I put my hand over my chest, willing my heart rate to slow to normal pace.
“Look, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s really early in the morning. We have to be up in a couple of hours to get ready for brunch.” Emily stood up, taking both of the empty teacups in her hands, and headed toward the kitchen.
Jumping up, I followed her to the kitchen but didn’t go all the way in. “Emily, you can’t say something like that and not explain.”
Emily rinsed the teacups out before she put them in the dishwasher. She gripped the counter, bracing herself, as she looked straight ahead. With her back to me, I could see her taking steady breaths as her narrow shoulders rose and fell. The stillness felt heavy in the room; it was stifling. After a minute of unnerving silence, she turned around. I stood at the threshold of the kitchen, pulling at the drawstring of my sweatpants, anxiously awaiting some kind of explanation.
She took a deep breath before she began, “It’s not my story to tell, Sahara.” She chewed her lip nervously as she grabbed a pen and paper from a cabinet drawer. She scrawled something down before she said, “But please talk to him. Before the brunch. After the brunch. It doesn’t matter. Just please talk to him. Put him out of his misery.”
She walked across the kitchen and gave me a big hug. I hugged her back tightly. When we broke free, she handed me the paper with his number on it. I recognized it immediately. He’s had the same number for over ten years, I thought as I eyed the familiar number.
“Being able to talk to you tonight…finding out why you left…why you didn’t share any of yourself with me for ten years… that was exactly what I needed,” Emily expressed with her voice wavering a bit.
Still feeling confused about everything, I dropped my eyes as I admitted, “I’m glad I’m here. In Thomasville and with you. I’m glad we talked. I’m sorry it has taken so long for me to get here. I was scared.”
We walked arm in arm down the hall and when I got to the guest bedroom, I looked directly into her grey eyes and said, “Thank you for not hating me.”
“You’re my best friend and my sister. I could never hate you. I just missed you.”
Two hours and no additional sleep later, I was showered and sitting on the edge of the bed. I must have sat like that for longer than I realized because Emily knocked on the door and told me we should leave in 30 minutes to get to brunch on time. Taking the hint, I pulled myself out of the haze I’d been in since the conversation with Emily.
I picked out a white stretch knit tank dress that fell just below the knee. I paired it with a black short sleeved summer sweater and black ballet slippers. I tamed my hair by pinning one side away from my face. I adorned the pinned side with two white silk flowers. I completed the look with diamond studs and a solitary diamond necklace. Ty’s birthday gift for me, I thought as I realized I didn’t call him all morning. Well he is probably sleeping in, nursing a hangover from his night out with the boys. I should send him a text and let him know I’m going to do brunch and that I’ll call him later, I thought.
“Sahara, you almost ready?” Emily called from the other side of the door.
“Just give me one minute,” I replied as I picked up my cell phone and started a text to Ty.
Sahara Lee: Good morning! I hope you had a great time last night. I’m sure you and the boys had more than just one last night so sleep it off. I look forward to talking to you later. I’m going to do brunch and then see where the day takes me. I love you.
Hitting send, I tucked my phone in the pocket fold of my black and white Phillip Lim color-blocked bag. I grabbed my black oversized sunglasses and headed out the door. I stopped in my tracks as soon as I got to the living room. Standing in the same white stretch knit tank dress, Emily had her back to me as she concluded her phone call. Emily paired her dress with a teal belt and teal shoes. Her black hair was twisted into a high bun that sat solidly on the crown of her head. She wore a teal and purple checkered scarf loosely tied around her neck and she was holding a teal clutch.
Turning around, Emily screamed. “Are you kidding me?!” She laughed so hard that she doubled over. I joined in and we stared at each other and laughed for what felt like 5 whole minutes.
“What are the odds?” I said as I gestured to our dresses. “You look beautiful, by the way.”
“You look amazing! Your—or better yet—our dress looks good on you. This is just nuts! I should change but we don’t have time!” Emily laughed again.
“Well I’m sure no one will even be able to tell…” I laughed as I finished the sentence knowing that everyone would be able to tell. “At least we look good. Who cares, right?”
“Right!” Emily smiled widely. “And it’ll be just like old times. We used to buy the same clothes all the time, remember?”
The last time we wore the same thing, we ended up in the hospital, I reminded myself. That sobered me up quickly.
Emily must have noticed because she walked over to me and held my hand. “We are okay.” I looked at her and gave her a small smile.
She continued, “We have to be at Rosemary’s by 11 or we will never hear the end of it.”
Following her out the front door, I only saw the white Acura Emanuel picked me up in. I pointed to car, “Is Emanuel here?”
“No, I let Emanuel use my car. He has a motorcycle and your luggage was not going to fit on that thing,” she joked.
“Ohhhh… Well, how did you get home from work?” I asked as I slid into the car, my dress slipping easily over the leather seats.
After she buckled her seatbelt, Emily said, “My doctor boyfriend.” Her smile showcased pure bliss as she started the engine.
“You didn’t mention him in the emails! Tell me more.”
“Girl, I told you this whole year has been busy with me still working full time and the dance studio opening up,” she explained even though she didn’t need to. It’s not like I’ve told her anything about my life, I thought as I fingered the necklace around my neck.
“I understand. You don’t owe me an explanation. At all. I’m sorry. But now that you’ve brought him up, I’d love to hear any and everything you’d want to tell me about him,” I clarified, pulling my sunglasses down my nose so she could see my eyes and know that I meant my apology.
“Don’t apologize to me anymore today, okay?” Emily retorted with a smile. “Today is about enjoying the here and now with my best friend, okay?”
“Okay,” I acquiesced. “Now—doctor boyfriend?”
“So it’s only a couple of months old, but I met him when I was doing prep stuff for surgery—”
“Wait, what kind of surgery?” I asked concerned.
“Exploratory stuff. Sometimes I get excruciating pain out of nowhere. It feels like a never ending charley horse. You know I have these metal rods in my legs. Well my doctor ordered some tests to make sure the rods in my legs weren’t irritating the tendons or something. I don’t know. Long story short, he didn’t find anything. But while I was there for prep work this last time, I met Anthony. He was in the parking lot at the same time as me. We both thought the other was a visitor and we talked for a little bit and exchanged numbers before going our separate ways. Come to find out, he was new in town and just accepted a position with the hospital.”
“Only you would go to the hospital for test results and leave out with a doctor…nice! Get it girl! Tell me about him.”
“He’s a nice guy! I like spending time with him…when I see him. His hours are crap. But with me being out of school for the summer, it should be better. I’m still trying to figure out if I can really deal with the hours or if I’m just tolerating them so I can say ‘my
doctor boyfriend.’” Emily laughed.
I joined in with her laughter and replied, “You are a mess!” After I stopped laughing I said, “But really, those doctor shows make it seem like the doctors never really get home to their significant others. Hopefully it’s different in real life.”
Emily shrugged, “I don’t know. We’ll see. Right now it’s fun. If it stops being fun, I’ll reevaluate my feelings.”
“I know that’s right.”
“Enough about me, I want to know about you! Is there a lucky guy in your life? Sorry,” Emily apologized as her phone rang. Glancing down, she hurriedly picked up call.
“Hey mom…We’re about to pull up… Calm down, we are not late… Yes… Yes… Okay we will see you in literally one minute… Love you too… You can tell her yourself in less than 60 seconds. Bye!” Emily hit the end button and threw her phone back in the cup holder.
“Sorry about that. Mom is freaking out because we aren’t there yet.”
“Are we close?” I asked.
“Yes, it is right there! And we have a good 6 minutes before our reservation is technically supposed to start. You know how she is though.”
I knew how she was but it’s been ten years. People change. I sure did, I pondered as I started to feel anxious about the brunch.
As Emily parked in the parking space, I noticed a shiny black motorcycle circling around the parking lot. The motorcycle was a mix of black and chrome and the rider handled it well. I couldn’t be sure, but if my heart rate was any indication, I knew the motorcyclist had to be Emanuel. We got out of the car just as he was settling in a spot near the front door.
I watched as he got off the bike. His long dark denim clad legs expertly jumped off the black and chrome machine, landing on heavy black boots. His broad shoulders and narrow waist were accentuated by the black and silver motorcycle jacket. He stripped his jacket off first, showcasing a red and black checkered button up. Then he removed his helmet, briefly setting it on the handlebar of the motorcycle. He ran his hands through his hair and instantly his hair was back to being perfect. He picked his helmet back up and then headed into Rosemary’s.
Back to Life Page 19