Watch Over Me

by Tara Sivec

  Standing back up, I look down one last time at the napkin with both of our messages on it.

  Three months later.

  Sitting at my desk by the window, I finish typing the last sentence of my paragraph and hit save. Closing my eyes and stretching my arms above my head, I work out the kinks in my shoulder from sitting so long. When I open my eyes again a few minutes later, I glance down at my computer and smile. On top of my keyboard is a napkin, and I laugh when I read the words.

  I've lost count of how many napkins I have now. I still keep each and every one of them, but they're no longer tacked to my bulletin board since I ran out of room on that thing a long time ago. Looking over at the wall where the board used to hang, I sigh and smile again when I see the only note that hangs there now. It's in a glass frame that Zander bought for me as soon as he finished reading my story a few months ago. Getting up from my computer chair, I walk over to the frame and stare at it, thinking about the day I found that napkin taped to the wall of Dr. Thompson's empty office, and then the day I found it again. The words don't fill me with confusion or sadness anymore. When I read them, I think about the impossible and how if you're lucky enough and loved enough, sometimes incomprehensible, amazing things can happen to you.

  Running my fingertips over the smooth glass, I silently read the words to myself.

  I take a deep breath as I smile at the words and the drawing of the stick figure with arms open wide, dropping my hand from the glass, and back away from the wall. Glancing over at my computer, I know it's time to do something I've been putting off for far too long. I quickly walk back over to my desk and lean down, opening up a browser window and logging into Facebook. I go to her page and the sight of her profile picture no longer fills me with pain. Clicking on the Account Settings menu, I go right to the Security section.

  "I love you," I whisper as I click Deactivate Account.

  Stepping away from the computer, I take a deep breath before turning away and heading out into the kitchen.

  "It's about time you got here. I slaved over dinner and it was going to start getting cold," Zander tells me as he meets me by the doorway and pulls me into his arms. I look over at the table and see that it's littered with Chinese takeout containers.

  "Slaved, huh?" I ask with a laugh.

  He bends down and presses his lips to mine. Reaching up, I wrap my arms around the back of his neck and pull him closer. The kiss ends all too soon, and he rests his forehead against mine and looks into my eyes.

  "You have no idea how hard it is to order Chinese. There's so many choices to pick from," he jokes.

  We pull apart and make our way over to the table to start dishing out food. While we eat and talk about his day at work and my day writing, I think about how we got here and how truly happy I am for the first time in my life.

  After I left my story on Zander's front porch three months ago, I immediately drove to my parents' house. Even though I had told my father I was done, I needed to make sure he understood what all that entailed. When I walked back into the house, I found him packing a suitcase. He was going back to rehab and he told me he was finished making me promises he couldn't keep. I told him I was finished with the bakery. I couldn't run it anymore while he was gone; I didn't want to run it anymore. It wasn't my dream, and I couldn't go one more day doing something that didn't make me happy.

  Within a few weeks, Snow's Sugary Sweets was sold to a nice young couple that promised to keep it exactly like my mother had it and would continue to use all of her recipes. They even agreed to keep Meg on staff while she went back to school to finish her degree in Elementary Education.

  I talk to my father once a week, and I don't allow myself to get wrapped up in his problem anymore. I try my best to let him know that I support him, but I don't let his choices affect my life like they used to. I don't know what will happen between us when he gets out of rehab this time, but with Zander's help, I don't let myself worry about something I have no control over.

  Staring at Zander across the table, I can't help but smile as he talks animatedly about a patient he had to X-ray that day. When I left those pages on his doorstep, I wasn't sure if I would ever hear from him again. I had no idea if I'd pushed him too far away or whether or not he'd finally realized I wasn't worth the trouble.

  For the rest of that day, I forced myself not to dwell on it. I wouldn't allow myself to be nervous that he was at home reading my words and finally knowing everything about me. After speaking with my father, I went to the bakery and spent the night making every single one of my mother's recipes. I baked muffins and pies, cakes and cookies, and a hundred other things that I grew up eating and making side-by-side with her. At eleven o'clock, long after the shop had closed, the back door opened, and I held my breath when I saw Zander walk in carrying my story under his arm.

  "Holy shit," he whispered, looking around at all of the baked goods that covered every surface of the kitchen.

  I laughed nervously as he stood just inside the doorway.

  "I got a little carried away," I told him with a shrug.

  His eyes locked onto mine, and I watched as he walked toward me. Butterflies filled my stomach as he stepped around the island in the middle of the room and came right up to me. He set the pile of papers on the counter next to me and then finally reached up and put both of his hands on either side of my face. I leaned my body closer to his and looked up at his face.

  "Thank you for trusting me with your story."

  I didn't hesitate to wrap my arms around his waist.

  "Thank you reading it. And for forgiving me," I whispered.

  He shook his head at me and rubbed his thumbs against my cheek.

  "There's nothing to forgive. You deserved more from me. You deserved the truth, and I was too afraid to give it to you," he replied.

  I glanced away from him and down at my story on the counter.

  "I was afraid too. I didn't want you to know all of this and look at me differently," I admitted.

  "Don't you understand?" he asked as he removed on left hand from around his neck and kissed my scar. "That story right there, it's your heart and soul, and it's the reason why I love you. Every single word is why I fell in love with you, and it's why I could never, ever stop loving you no matter what. You amaze me, Addison. Your strength amazes me, and the fact that you love me back amazes me. At least I hope you still love me back," he said nervously as he bit his bottom lip.

  "And I thought I was the crazy one," I told him with a laugh. "How could I not love you? You were her friend. She trusted you with me, and you did everything you could to teach me how to live again. I love you. I don't want to be stuck in the past anymore. I want to finally look forward to the future, and I want to do it with you. I need you to keep me strong."

  He placed a soft kiss on the tip of my nose and then smiled down at me.

  "You don't need me for anything, Sugar. That story right there proves just how strong you really are. You can do anything you set your mind to, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be than by your side watching your dreams come true."

  The last three months have been the best and the scariest of my life. Upon Zander's insistence, I submitted my story to a literary agent. In the meantime, with the money from the sale of the bakery, I enrolled in the local community college and began taking English and creative writing classes while I continued to write more stories.

  "Oh my gosh, I almost forgot your surprise," Zander says as he wipes his hands on a napkin and gets up from the table. I watch as he walks over to the counter and picks up a large manila envelope and hands it over to me.

  "Don't be mad but I already opened it. I kind of knew what it was, but I wanted to make sure before you saw it," he tells me as I take the package from his hands and flip it over.

  "What is this?" I ask as I lift up the already torn flap on the envelope.

  "Remember how I told you that one of my patients last month works for a publisher in New York?" he asks as my hand reac
hes inside the package.

  "Yes. And if I remember correctly, I told you not to bother him," I tell Zander as I raise my eyebrow at him and silently scold him with my look.

  "I think you should know by now that I never do anything you tell me to," he says with a laugh.

  Shaking my head at him, I grab the thick packet of papers inside the envelope and slide them out. I gasp when I see the title page to my story.

  "Oh my God," I mumble as I run my hand over the top page that looks like it's been professionally formatted and bound together.

  "They're going to publish it, Sugar. They loved every single word," Zander tells me excitedly.

  I stare down at the manuscript in my hands, and I can hardly believe this is happening. I almost lost myself, and this story was so close to never being written. And now other people will read it. It will sit on the shelves of bookstores and someone will pick it up and read about a girl who almost gave up on everything. With the help of a boy who loved her more than she thought possible, and the eyes of the most important person in her life watching over her, she learned how to move forward.

  She learned how to live.

  Ten years later…

  "Mommy, was Grandma at your wedding when you married Daddy?"

  I smile down at Angel, my six-year-old daughter, curled up next to my side on the couch as she flips through our wedding album.

  "No, Sweets, she wasn't there in person. But I'm sure she was looking down on us from Heaven."

  Angel looks up at me with her big, gorgeous, gray eyes—mine and my mother's eyes all rolled into one.

  "She's an angel in Heaven and that's why you named me Angel, right?" she asks with the innocence of a child.

  "That's right! And even though she's not here, she loves us and she's watching over all of us and keeping us safe."

  She goes back to the photo album and intently stares at each and every picture. I hug her closer to my side and kiss the top of her head.

  It seems like so long ago that I swore I would never have children because I couldn't bear the thought of doing it without my mother here to guide me and shower them with love. But now, I don't know how I ever thought a life without children would be worth living. Glancing up at the framed napkin that still hangs on the wall and has followed me and Zander to each of the places we've lived, I close my eyes and send a silent "thank you" up to Heaven.

  When I first found that note, I couldn't possibly comprehend how it was possible for something like that to happen. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I had no idea where the note came from or how it was conceivable for me to be holding something like that in my hand. It wasn't until Angel was born and I became a mother myself that I finally let all of the doubts go and just accepted the fact that somehow, someway, my mother was watching over me. I still don't know if Dr. Thompson was real or if she was sent by my mother to help me, but I don't question it anymore. I get it now. The moment the doctor put Angel in my arms, I instantly fell in love with her and the bond between us was forged, never to be broken—even in death. I knew that no matter what, I would always protect her, and even if I couldn't be with her, I would never be far away.

  I still miss my mother every day. I still think about her more often than not, and I still wish she was here with me helping me through life. I still wonder why she had to go and have finally come to terms with the fact that it was just her time. It doesn't hurt as much to think about her anymore. Remembering her face and her voice and her hugs don't leave me feeling empty and lonely. They leave me feeling lucky and loved to have had her in my life, even though the time we had together wasn't nearly long enough. I'm the person I am today because she loved me. I will continue being strong and live my life to the fullest because that's what she taught me to do. And now that I have a daughter, I have an even bigger reason to enjoy everything that life brings me.

  "Sugar, I'm home!" Zander shouts from kitchen as he makes his way to us in the living room.

  He walks up behind the couch, and I tip my head back so I can see him. Leaning over me, he places a kiss on my lips and then moves over to our daughter, scooping her up and over the back of the couch while she squeals in delight.

  "Hey there, Baby Sugar, how was your day?" he asks her as he peppers her face with kisses.

  "Mommy and I were talking about Grandma and how she's watching over me. Do you think she watches me when I go to the bathroom? I hope not. There are just some things that people don't need to see."

  Zander and I burst out laughing at our daughter's choice of words, and I can't help but think back to the conversation I had with my mom about the very same thing.

  "I'm sure Grandma gives you your privacy when you go to the bathroom," Zander says with another laugh as he sets Angel down and then pulls a large, thick envelope out from behind his back.

  "Oooooh, is that a present for me?" Angel asks excitedly.

  "Sorry, Baby Sugar, this one is for mommy," he replies, coming around to the front of the couch and placing it on my lap before sitting down next to me.

  I notice the return address from my publisher and wonder if it's a copy of my newest manuscript. Tearing into the envelope, I pull out a note on their letterhead and scan through the words.

  "Oh my gosh, it's the ten year anniversary of my first book. They had a special hardcover edition printed for me," I whisper softly to Zander as I reach my hand inside and pull out the book.

  Staring at the cover, I run my hand gently over the title and remember the days I spent locked away in my apartment, finally letting everything out and putting it down on paper.

  "Congratulations, Sugar. You've come a long way and I'm so proud of you," Zander tells me, placing a kiss on top of my head.

  I've written more books than I can count over the years and each one has brought me success that I never imagined. But this one, the story of my life, will always have a special place in my heart.

  Opening the hard cover, I flip past the title page, and I smile down at the first few words of the prologue that I typed so long ago.

  Death changes everyone…

  If you or someone you know has persistent feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and thoughts of suicide,

  it's important to reach out for help. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness.

  If you are feeling overwhelmed, or if suicide seems like an option,

  you can always talk to someone you love or a health professional.

  Suicide is never the only option.

  If you or someone you know is contemplating suicide, please call 911 or contact the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK or http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/GetHelp

  First and foremost, thank you to Buffy and Madison. You were the first ones to read the couple of chapters I was playing around with a year ago. You were the first ones to get a glimpse into this story, and you convinced me that I had to write it. I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted anyone to read this. I’m still not sure! But with your love and support, this story came to light. I am so thankful to have both of you in my life. Thank you for encouraging me and believing in me.

  Max. Oh, Max. Where would I be without you? I’d be stuck in the hell of past/present tense, and I would have never known the beauty of Supernatural! I love you. Thank you for writing a bio that spoke to my soul two years ago so I could find you! Thank you for helping me with this story and for helping me grow as a writer. FYI, Ackles is mine.

  Tiffany King and Jasinda Wilder—Thank you so much for your early read of this story and for your constant support and friendship.

  James, Madelyn, and Drew—Thank you for letting me be emo for months about this story. Thank you for giving me hugs and kisses when you saw I needed them. Thank you for loving me unconditionally even though I forget to feed you and call you by the wrong names.

  Andrea—Thank you for being the best mother-in-law in the world. Thank you for your faith in me and your continued support. Thank you for being proud of me and for being my fami
ly. I love you and I am so thankful to have you in my life.

  Last, but certainly not least—Thank you to the fans for taking a chance on me. Thank you for loving my funny and following me with the serious. Thank you for being the best fans in the world!

  Cover by Okay Creations—www.okaycreations.com

  Editing by Polished Pen—www.polished-pen.com

  Formatting by Fictional Formats—

  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Fictional-formats/578230928856597?fref=ts