Love Notes

by Michelle Windsor

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  I stare out the window of the plane and look down at the blue-green water rolling in waves across the ocean as we start our descent into Tampa. It’s been five days since Sydney came to see me. Five days that I’ve had to rethink every emotion I’ve had over the last four years concerning her. Five days to think about a daughter I didn’t know I had. Five days to try to accept that the only woman I’ve ever loved is dying.

  The last two days, I spent with my family back on the farm, telling them everything, letting them share in my shock, my happiness, and my grief. Like me, they were angry to learn they had missed three years of the life of their granddaughter, and Jonathan his niece, but also like me, are grateful for the time that lay ahead with her. When they learned how sick Sydney is, any feelings of anger at her were pushed aside by bigger feelings of the loss we knew we would all soon struggle with.

  I spent hours talking with my mom about what it meant to be a mother, a parent, trying to understand the path and choice that lay before me now. I feel like Sydney and I failed each other in so many ways, ways that could have been avoided, and I am determined to not fail my daughter. I sat in the cottage for hours, remembering every moment we spent there laughing, talking, and loving each other.

  I took the ATV and went to the pond where I asked her to move to Brooklyn with me. I sat there until the sun set and stars began twinkling in the sky, wondering if I should have done things differently. What if I had listened to my head and waited until I had moved to Brooklyn, found out what my life would be like first before asking her to move there, instead of acting on instinct and my heart? What could the last four years of my life, or her life, of our life together have been like? It’s four more years that I may have possibly gotten to spend with her. Four more years I’ll never get back, and three years of my daughter’s life that I’ve missed.

  The anger I felt at learning so much from her the other night pales in comparison to the sadness I feel over the time we’ve wasted. Now, more than ever, knowing how fragile and unpredictable this life is, I know I can’t waste another second. I’m not sure what’s going to happen after I knock on her door, but I do know that I’m going to do every single thing in my power to make the time she has left, the time we have left, happy.

  When the plane finally bounces on the runway, and the attendants announce that our seatbelts can safely be unbuckled, I pounce from my first-class seat, grab my guitar from the overhead, and then stride through the jetway as soon as the door to the airplane is open. I walk directly to the rental car counter, arrange for a car, and then grab my bag as it circles around the carousel.

  I walk outside and stagger against the assault of the August heat and humidity. I find the shuttle for the rental car garage and hop on. Once I secure the car, I punch her address into the GPS and smile when I see I only have another hour in front of me until I’m there. Traffic is light, and I’m thrilled when I pull down her street and find the house with her number on the front. I park the car, leave my stuff inside, and step out. I smile as I look at her home. It’s nestled on the corner of a dead-end street, and I can see the ocean beyond the bushes lining her yard.

  I stroll up the front walk and ring the bell, my nerves zinging at the anticipation of seeing her again. There’s a car in the driveway, so I assume she’s home, but no one has come to the door. I try the handle but find it locked, and I frown. I scratch the scruff on my chin and move off the path, circling around the house to the back. As the beach comes into view, I see people scattered about and sweep my gaze across the landscape, stopping when I find two blondes sitting at the edge of the water, playing in the sand.

  I recognize Sydney immediately, knowing that must be Justine with her, and marvel at how much bigger she is than when I originally held her in my arms. I stop where the grassy edge of her lawn meets the sand and toe my sneakers off before making my way across the beach, my eyes never leaving them. I’m about six feet away when Sydney’s head turns in my direction and I watch her expression change to one of surprise. By the time she’s standing, I’m at her side, unable to break the gaze I have locked on both of them.

  “You’re here.” Her bottom lip is between her teeth, and my insides warm at the sight, happy to know that some things haven’t changed.

  “I’m here.” I lean forward and kiss her tenderly on the cheek, her eyes closing softly as I do. “You look beautiful.”

  Her eyes open slowly, and I’m relieved to see a smile break across her face. “Do you want to meet your daughter?”

  I look down at the doll-like figure still playing with clumps of sand at her mother’s feet and take in her soft wavy locks, the same exact color of her mother’s, nodding my head eagerly. Syd kneels to her level and puts a sandy finger under Justine’s chin to bring her attention to her instead of the mud. “Hey, I have someone I want you to meet, okay?”

  “Okay, Momma.” The little girl pops up from the sand on her stubby legs and looks up at me, her hand moving to shield her eyes from the bright sun shining behind me. I blink when the blue of her eyes meets mine, noting their color is the exact same as mine, and wonder how in the world I didn’t notice when I held her in my arms two years ago. Her face scrunches up as she looks at me and then turns and looks back over at her mom. “Is that Daddy?”

  My heart stutters in my chest at hearing her, and I look over at Syd, my brows raised. She raises her finger up in a gesture to Tini to wait a minute and then quietly says, “I’ll explain after, okay?”

  I nod my head, still in the clouds at hearing this sweet girl calling me Daddy. She turns her attention back to Justine and nods. “Yes, this is your daddy, sweetie. He’s finally home from work.”

  I give her a puzzled look, and she whispers for me to just roll with it and promises to explain after. I feel a sandy hand slide into mine and look down to find Justine standing next to me. “You want to build a castle with me?” It sounds more like, ‘you wanna buwd a cawtle wid me’, and I beam at the invitation. Nodding, I tell her, “Absolutely.” I swear, my heart triples in size when her little hand grips tighter and pulls me down to sit in the sand beside her.

  If anyone ever wants to question whether or not love at first sight exists, I can attest that it does. I know instantly that I’m not going to want to miss another second of her young life and have never felt more at peace than I do at this moment, with wet sand running through my fingers and my daughter’s giggles lifting into the wind. The sound is sweeter than any melody that has ever been written.

  Sydney sits in the sand next to me and watches us play, a content smile on her face, and then looks over at me. “How long are you staying?”

  I shrug and smile over at her hopefully. “As long as you let me.”

  * * *

  AS I SIT in the sand, the hot Florida sunshine warming my face, watching Justin play with our daughter, I know that, even though I’ve made a hundred bad decisions, going to him and telling him about her was definitely the best one I’ve ever made. The look of pure joy and love on his face when she placed her hand in his will be ingrained in my soul for whatever time I have left.

  The heat of the sun is wearing me down so I stand, brush the sand from my legs, and announce it’s time to go in. After a few moans of protest from Tini, we make our way back across the beach, pails in hand, and onto the back lawn of our yard. I smile when I see Justin scoop up his shoes, an action in itself that seems small but, to me, demonstrates his ease at being here already.

  I lead him across the lawn, Tini’s hand grasped firmly in his, open the sliding glass door to the kitchen, and step through. The cool air of the house dances over my skin, bringing instant relief from the heat outside. Justin slides the glass closed after we’re all through and groans out loud. “Oh my God, the air conditioning feels good!”

  I smile, agreeing one hundred percent, but also because I can’t believe he’s actually standing in my kitchen with us right now. “You want something to drink?�
��

  He chuckles and looks up at me sheepishly. “Ice water?” We both grin widely and then break into laughter, Tini looking back and forth at each of us, trying to figure out what’s so funny. I take two glasses and a sippy cup from the cupboard, then turn to find Justin, his hands taking the glasses from mine.

  I watch as he moves to the refrigerator to fill them, but he stops mid-stride a few feet from its reach. He turns back around, a confused look on his face, and then points to the rectangle paper that’s stuck to its front under a magnet. “You didn’t cash it?”

  I shake my head. “Not yet.”

  He looks at me and frowns. “Why?”

  I shrug. “I haven’t needed it yet. I make a pretty good living off my books. I’ve published seven in the last four years, and I just sold the screen rights to the second one.”

  “Then put it in an account for Justine. It’s half a million dollars, Syd. You can’t leave it stuck to the fridge.”

  I nod. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” I frown. “Actually, I don’t think it’s even good anymore. I think a check is only good for six months or so.”

  “Then I’ll write you a new one, with the interest added, since that means it’s been sitting in my account for the last two years.” He plucks it off the fridge and shakes his head. “My accountant should have told me about this.”

  “I still wouldn’t have cashed it,” I state, just to let him know it wouldn’t have mattered either way.

  He smirks and begins filling the glasses. “Still stubborn as always, I see?”

  “Mommy, I have sand in my bum!” Tini’s little voice wails between us, as she wiggles around.

  “Okay, my little peanut. Let’s get you in the tub.” Justin trades a glass of water with me for the sippy cup, fills it quickly, and then hands it to Tini. “Let me just give Daddy a quick tour, okay?”

  “My room! Let’s show him my room!” She bounces up and down, sand sifting from her bottom on the tile floor as she does, then grabs his hand. “Come on!”

  The way his face lights up when she grasps his fingers with hers sends a surge of happiness through me that I haven’t felt in years. In my heart, I knew, I really knew that Justin would come for Justine, but seeing them together gives me a renewed sense of hope that everything will be okay for her. Even without me. I follow them down the hall into her bedroom, pointing out the living room and bathroom as I go, and stand in the doorway of her room as she shows him around.

  She’s chattering away, introducing each and every stuffed fox that’s sitting on her bed, his face a mix of emotions when he turns to me, his brows raised. “Foxes?”

  I shrug and give him a soft smile. “I have a thing for foxes. Now, she does, too.”

  “And, Daddy, look at my farm! Mommy said you have a farm!” I watch her pull him down to the floor, pull the big plastic barn apart to open it, and then start showing him all the animals that live inside. He turns his head to me, surprise and gratitude shining from his eyes as he quietly says thank you. Even though he wasn’t here physically, I made sure Tini knew everything about him, about us, and tried to bring pieces of that into her life in any way I could find.

  I watch him interact with our daughter for a few more minutes. As he notices the frame on the nightstand next to her bed, he moves to pick it up in his hands. It’s a picture of Justin and me, his arm wrapped tightly around me, both of us laughing at a cook-out we went to at Adam’s. Kelly had taken it that summer and surprised me with it as a gift to me at her wedding, telling me that Justin and I were next. He turns to me, the frame still in his hand, his lids blinking rapidly as he holds it up to me and smiles. “I’ve never seen this.”

  “Kelly gave it to me.”

  His brows lift and his head cocks in surprise. “Huh.” Then he sets it back down and turns his attention back to his daughter. “Did Mommy ever tell you the story about the time we named a cow after her?”

  Tini giggles wildly. “Mommy’s not a cow!”

  He joins in her laughter and tells her the story about the first time I ever went to the farm. My throat clenches, and I feel tears starting to form, so I turn away to let them share this moment together, and go fill the tub. When it’s ready, I break up their little farm party, stripping her out of her bathing suit, and plop her into the warm water.

  Justin seems content to just sit and watch our routine from the closed toilet seat, a smile always present on his face. When we’re done, I dry her off, spread lotion all over her warm, soft skin, and slide a nightgown over her. She walks to one of the bathroom drawers and takes out a pull-up, putting it on herself and declaring she’s a big girl to Justin.

  We laugh and share in her excitement, both of us understanding that the simple joy of raising our daughter carries so much weight for both of us. Me, trying to cherish every single day, every single moment I have left with her. Him, learning and discovering what a lifetime ahead with her will be.

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  I ingest every single morsel of laughter, touch, and word we share throughout the afternoon, storing it away to treasure later. Sydney makes grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken noodle soup for dinner, most of which I can’t help but notice she barely eats. I’m surprised by how independent Justine is; feeding herself the soup with her small, plastic spoon, and then helping her mom by carrying her little bowl over to the counter when she’s finished.

  Sydney has done an incredible job of raising her. Knowing this is like a double-edged sword, though. On one hand, I’m so grateful to her for instilling so much love and warmth to create this perfect little being, but on the other, I’m angry that I didn’t get to be a part of that. And, again, my heart is overrun with the joy I feel at knowing I have the rest of my life to watch her grow and see who she becomes, and then breaks when I remember that soon, I’ll be doing it alone.

  I just finished reading Brown Bear to her for the third time and now sit transfixed as I watch little puffs of breath escape from her lips as she sleeps. She reminds me so much of Sydney. They breathe exactly the same way. I reach up and trail my fingers softly over her silky locks, the light coconut scent of her shampoo lifting into the air as I do. I can’t believe she’s mine, that we made something so entirely perfect. It still doesn’t seem real to me.

  “Hey.” Sydney’s soft voice behind me has me turning around to the door. “You okay in here?”

  I nod, place the little cardboard book on the nightstand, and then rise and leave the room. Sydney pulls the door quietly closed behind me and then turns back down the hall and moves into the living room. She sits on the couch and pats the cushion next to her, inviting me to do the same. “Guess we should talk, huh?”

  We haven’t had one moment alone without Justine by our side since I arrived, so even though the afternoon was every single thing I could have hoped for, we’ve said nothing of any real substance. “I guess so.” I give her a small smile and sit on the offered seat.

  “I’m really glad you came, Justin.”

  “Did you think I wouldn’t?” I question, hoping after everything that happened last week, she really knows I wouldn’t have made any other choice.

  “I knew you would. I just didn’t know when.” She wrings her hands in her lap. “You were so mad.”

  I grimace as I think about our last meeting. “I was, but I’m not anymore. We’ve wasted enough time.” I look at her, really look at her, and for the first time notice just how tired and frail she is. “Are you okay?”

  “Today’s a good day.” She brushes her hand through her short locks and looks back over at me, one side of her mouth pulling down in a small frown. “There are still more good than bad so far.”

  “How long do they say, Syd?” I shift my eyes away, afraid to look at her, and ask again to be clear. “How much more time?”

  I feel her raise her shoulders, lower them, and sigh. “They never give you an exact number. You know, like, I’m going to hold it against them if they get it wrong. Bu
t they guess four months, maybe six.”

  My eyes fly to hers in shock, and I echo her response, disbelief ringing in my voice, my heart dropping into my stomach. “Four months? Sydney, that’s not long enough.” I shift on the couch so I can move a little closer and take one of her hands in mine. I’m surprised to feel how cool and paper thin her skin feels. “What can I do?”

  She squeezes her hand in mine. “You’re doing it.”

  “That’s easy. But what else? What else can I do? What can we do?”

  Her short hair swishes back and forth as she shakes her head. “Just love her, Justin. Love her enough for both of us when I’m gone.”

  I rake my hand through my hair roughly and lower my gaze to meet hers. “I’ll love her the only way I know how, Syd, and that’s with my whole heart.”

  She nods her head, biting her lip, blinking quickly at the tears beginning to fall. I pull her into my arms then and hold her, trying to offer what comfort I can with the simple gesture. I fight back my own tears as I do, promising myself that, no matter what, I will be strong enough for both of us. She feels so small in my arms, like a baby bird, her bones so close to the surface of her skin, and I pull her in a little closer to try to make her warm.

  After some time, we pull apart and sit quietly for a minute. I look around the living room and notice for the first time that there are candid photographs lining every wall. There’s an entire wall filled with pictures of Tini, from infancy until now, and I stand and walk over so I can get a closer look. I run my fingers over the photos as I move along the wall.

  The other wall contains pictures of her dad, Kelly, Adam, Kelly’s mom, times at the bar, and yes, even pictures of me. I stop and look at one and study it. I’m sitting on a stool at Hook’s, my guitar sitting upright in my lap, the neck covering most of my face as I stare back at the camera. I look angry, but I know I’m not. I remember Sydney taking that picture of me. She was trying to get a picture of me so she could make a poster to hang around town about my gigs there on Saturdays, and she told me to be more serious. She was laughing behind the camera, making it almost impossible for me to keep a straight face.