Remember Us

by Lindsay Blake

  “Exactly. Tomorrow, meaning later today, I will get down on one knee and promise Maya forever. I will probably throw in some of that stuff about time being a bastard too because it sounded good when I said it to you just now.”

  “You’re a regular Shakespeare.” I stifled another yawn.

  “I will buy us a puppy. Should I do that today or tomorrow?”

  “Uh, it sounds like today is already pretty full, so I’m going with tomorrow. Do you even know if Maya is a puppy kind of girl?”

  “Of course she’s a puppy kind of girl. Why do you think I’m proposing in the first place?”

  “Okay, well, drink another beer to celebrate.”

  “Oh, big sister, I will, my happily ever after is mere hours away, and I plan to celebrate in style.”

  “Right. Night. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

  Two hours later my phone rang again.

  “I’m ready to discuss how this is going down.”

  “Are you seriously injured? I know that’s the only reason you’d be calling me at 4 a.m.” My voice held flint.

  “Reese, I spent the last two hours collecting supplies. And practicing my Rocky Balboa dance around the apartment to maintain my momentum. I will wake Maya up with breakfast in bed. Nothing heavy and greasy. Something light and nice, like mimosas and my famous eggs benedict with music and a candle on the tray.”

  “Maybe bring her a toothbrush too? Maya’s adorable, but who wants to say ‘yes’ with morning breath.” I yawned.

  “This is why I called you.” I could tell Ben was pacing. “I’ll throw in some nice quotes and bing, bang, boom.”

  “Sweetie, you need to get some sleep. We all need to get some sleep.”

  “I’m thinking of reading her a story about our love and ending on, ‘will you join me in our second chapter?’”

  “Oh Ben, that’s good. I love it. And at the end of the day, it’s going to be special, as long as you take a shower, ask politely, and focus on her, why she alone is the light of your world.”

  “Thanks, big sis. Maybe we can have a double wedding, like we had a double birth.”

  “Right, well that’s about all I’ve got right now, except this: under no circumstances are you to put that girl through hours of LOTR before popping the question. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you. I’m supposed to show her the extended editions of Lord of the Rings before I ask her to spend the rest of her life with me. You’re brilliant.” I drifted off with his voice in my ear.

  We jumped into Dad’s truck; I would be vetoing Ernie for the foreseeable future.

  Bernice sat high behind the wheel as she navigated us into the drive-thru.

  “What can I get for you?” To say the overly excited voice was two decibels above annoying was generous.

  Bernice went first. “A grande two-pump sugar-free vanilla, two pump sugar-free caramel, no water, extra hot, whole milk, no room, no foam chai.”

  She turned to me, and I leaned over her. “Tall Americano with whipped cream.”

  “Are you sure you want whipped cream? You do have a wedding dress to fit into… I’m just saying.”

  We paid for our drinks, and pulled back onto the road in silence. We drove two minutes before Bernice took a deep breath. I knew I was in for some sort of diatribe, so I jumped in before she could speak.

  “Mom!” I might as well have shoved a rusty lead pipe through my throat.

  She slammed on the brakes, and I hit my head on the passenger seat. Scalding Americano and sticky whipped cream sloshed over my hands and onto the front of my shirt.

  “Reese! What the Sam Hill’s the matter with you?”

  I’m not sure why she was so fired up when I’m the one who almost died by passenger-ejection from the side window, and I knew my burns were at least third degree.

  “Ow! What do you mean, what’s the matter? I’m the only victim here.” I held up my steamy, sticky whipped cream hands for inspection.

  “Why did you just call me ‘Mom’? I didn’t see any cars about to ram into me, and I was definitely minding my own business.” Her suspicious glare was so over-the-top, I giggled before I could stop myself, which only made her puff up more. I was already on to the deep belly laughs when I saw the head a’wagging and knew a lecture was only seconds away, I pinched my arm as hard as I could to get my laughter in check, though it hurt my stomach something fierce.

  “Mom. Mom. I was trying it on for size, seeing how it felt.” I tried to keep my voice neutral, casual. I didn’t want this to become a big deal, and I didn’t want to get all chatty about it.

  Well, that bought me another couple minutes of silence, though even after she’d pulled back onto the road, I did notice a few smiles in my direction. A few too many if you ask me. She was radiant.

  Here we go, I thought. But it wasn’t altogether a horrible thought. I rolled my eyes and looked out the window, wondering what version of the story Dad would hear.

  I woke up trembling, unable to stop even when Charlie piled all the blankets in the room about me.

  The summer I was ten, I waited on the porch every day for Mom to come home from work. I remember it because Charlie and Ben had made friends with our new neighbor, Jack, and daily zoomed off on their bikes without so much as a half invitation in my direction. I spent my entire break moping, building myself a fort in our backyard, reading Nancy Drew novels. And when it was time for Mom to get off work, I would bring lemonade out to the front porch and wait for her. We’d spend her first ten minutes home talking through our days or the problems of the world.

  One day she brought me home a globe.

  “It was in the window of the thrift store beside our office and it screamed right at me, it said, ‘Reese needs me.’” She spun it around.

  “Did it really?”

  “Yep, it said if I didn’t buy it, it would perish in its attempt to get here to you.”

  “Why did it want to see me so badly?”

  “I imagine it’s because it has a secret message for you.”

  “It does?”

  “It does.”

  “But I’m right here, and I can’t hear it.”

  “Shh, listen.”

  “I think it’s saying hi.”

  “I heard that too. I also heard it say sometimes you have to go on an adventure.”

  “Yeah, an adventure.”

  “It’s saying someday you need to travel to New York City and get on a train, in the rain, and get off at a stop you have never heard of before.”

  “Okay, tomorrow!”

  “It says, maybe not tomorrow, but maybe the day after tomorrow or the day after that.”

  “Yeah, then.” I smelled her wisteria, watched the sun peek back and forth behind her gorgeous self.

  “It says sometimes you will need to forge your own path, to take a risk, go somewhere unknown. It says it will be scary, but also worth it.”

  “This old globe does a lot of talking.”

  “That it does. I think it knows you’ve had a hard summer.”

  “I’ve been sad because Ben and Charlie keep leaving me.”

  “I know it’s hard, Reese.”

  “Do you go on adventures, Mom?”

  “I used to imagine I’d hop on a train to nowhere, on a plane to a destination I didn’t know. But then I got too old. Well, maybe not old so much as adult. First Dad and I got the bills, then I got the job. So here I am. Raising you and Ben is my Grand Adventure.” She kissed the top of my head. “It’s your time to dream big, little one. Those boys may be leaving you behind today, but they don’t know it’s your turn to leave them in the dust tomorrow.”

  “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “Pinky promise?”

  “Pinky promise. I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when you do.” She kissed the top of my head again. “Now I need to go see that father of yours. I’ll see you at the dinner table.”

  April

  Reese

  It wa
s bloody hot for April in Knoxville, but Maya looked beautiful.

  Ben kept his arm around his bride as she thanked their small gathering of friends and family. She quickly blessed Mom for covering the cost of their wedding, and then it was Ben’s turn.

  “What she said.” Polite laughter everywhere. He made eye contact with Dad, Charlie, and me.

  “In all seriousness, we can all say this has been a long time coming, and I’m grateful you waited around for me, Maya.” He kissed the side of her face, where her freckled skin met her blonde hair. She smiled up at him.

  “My Mom always said…” Ben’s face twisted and Maya rubbed his arm. “My Mom had this motto, for as long as I can remember: Live today, no regrets tomorrow. And while I waited too long to wed this fabulous woman, any future regrets will pale in comparison to the joy of living side by side with you, Maya. Maya, I adore you: thank you for your patience while I figured it out. Let’s live today, baby.”

  “And tomorrow too,” she said.

  “And while I’m sad that my Mom…” Another pause. “My Mom can’t be here with us in body, she is with us in spirit. Thanks, Mom, for showing me the way. Thanks, friends and family, for coming today—it means so much. Now, let’s dance.”

  After Ben and Maya’s first dance, they waved the rest of us to the twinkle-light encircled dance floor. I watched as Maya waltzed gracefully with Rocky, while Dad and Ben tromped together. I stayed in my corner, taking it all in.

  Charlie gave me a dimpled wink from across the yard, bringing the pink to my cheeks faster than you can say Jack Robinson. I hadn’t been surprised to discover he’d be Ben’s best man. It was the obvious choice, but it didn’t make it easier that Maya had asked me to be her maid of honor. We were the only two who stood up with them.

  Dad, Rocky, and I had arrived in Knoxville two days before, on Thursday morning, to help with the last-minute details, but Maya handed us each a glass of white wine and pointed to the comfiest-looking lounge on her parents’ deck.

  “There are no details left that matter; we’re here to simply be.” She kissed my cheek.

  We idled there, chatting, and enjoying wine for the two days leading up to the wedding. Though he called me twice a week, it was the first time in months I’d seen Dad, and I realized I’d missed him. He was out checking off his bucket list for the first time in his life and still growing out his hair.

  “I need to go back to work soon, but right now I’m focusing on learning to carve wood, talking to strangers, and being present for my kids.” He patted my knee.

  When Charlie arrived Thursday night, in from Paris, all plaid and cute and still managing to smell like the sexiest man on earth, I hung back as he hugged Ben, Maya, and Dad in turn.

  When he opened his arms to me, looked at me shyly and so full of love I thought I would faint, I folded right into his embrace. The others left us standing in the driveway, holding each other. Your best friend can’t leave your heart no matter how many miles, how many closed doors lay scattered between you.

  “How are things?” I broke the silence first.

  “Oh you know, other than attempting to suture my broken heart back together…” He rubbed the scruff on his face.

  “Stop!”

  “I’m fighting the ladies off daily.” His gaze asked me a dozen questions, blue eyes blazing.

  “If only you were kidding, but I know you’re not.”

  “I miss you,” he whispered, and I was hot all over.

  “Charlie.”

  “Reese, let’s not talk about it now. Standing here with you is the happiest I’ve been in months. Let’s not stuff it up. Can we pretend for this weekend we still are what we always were?”

  “But do you understand at least a little?”

  “I understand I should have pursued you sooner. I understand I should have been more vocal in my appreciation of you. I understand you’re amazing and you can’t do this now. Beyond that, I understand nothing. I’m angry at you. I’m angry at myself. I love you. I wasn’t looking forward to this weekend, but now that I’m here I never want to leave this spot, this moment with you. If only you’d stop talking about the hard stuff. You’re the worst for that, you know.”

  When he reached for me, I leaned in for another hug.

  “Should we forget about this mess and go take care of Ben and Maya?” I choked out the words.

  “Definitely,” he exhaled into my hair, but he held me tighter still.

  Three months previously we’d flown into Chicago on a Tuesday for a week of romance. Charlie pulled out all the stops. From flowers every morning to expensive wine every night, he knew how to make a girl believe she was special.

  We sat at Millennium Park, takeaway cups from Intelligentsia between us, and discussed our Christmas wedding.

  “A year from now we’ll be husband and wife,” Charlie said, resting his forehead on mine. I squeezed his hand. “I can’t wait to see you in your dress. I think that’s what I’m the most excited about for our big day. You’ll look amazing.”

  I nodded, ignoring the pang inside. When I finally tried it on, Mom’s wedding dress had engulfed me, so I took it to a seamstress for a fitting.

  “I guess I stopped eating,” I’d told the lady and looked away as my eyes filled with tears.

  “Most brides do,” she said and pinned the dress to my side.

  Charlie and I shifted to talking about work, and my thoughts drifted as he told me again about meeting the famous designer, Tracy or Millicent or whatever her name was. Without meaning to, I started to cry, little tears forming everywhere and streaming down my cheeks in packs.

  “Reese, what’s wrong?” He put his coffee on the ground and placed his hands on my shoulders. I couldn’t formulate the words to tell him what I wanted. I stared hard into those sea blue eyes I’d loved for so long, and just like that I knew I couldn’t marry him. It was everything and nothing happening all at once, and I didn’t want the goodbye to come so fast.

  I so desperately wanted a different conclusion to us, to this journey.

  “Charlie, I love you now; I will love you always. But I can’t be with you.” The wind blew, the clouds gathered, and I shivered.

  “Reese, what are you talking about?” He kissed my forehead.

  “You are brilliant, charming, hilarious. You are witty, wonderful, perfection.”

  “I love you too, baby.” He kissed my collarbone.

  “But I can’t do this.” The words caught in my throat, excruciating and true.

  “I think we need to have some time to calm down.” He ran his hands over my face and my breathing grew furious.

  “No, Charlie. I can’t. I can’t marry you.”

  “I know we were getting married this Christmas, but we can push it back another year. I will wait as long as you need me to.”

  “Charlie!” My insides frayed. “I mean not at all.”

  I knew in some other version of the universe, we ended up together, he was my forever. Our stories would be intertwined for all time. I would care for him always; he had my heart first. He had so many of my firsts. I knew I would think of him a hundred times a year when I looked at certain photographs or listened to “Bohemian Rhapsody.” I knew he was the best parts of me in so many ways; he was a piece of my story, a part but not the sum. In some other alternative ending to our tale, I ended up with him and lived happily ever after. In some other ending, but not in this one.

  We walked down to our spot on the pier and he held me as we cried, all afternoon, as the sounds of the city went on and on beyond us and the clouds rolled in above. We sat, we kissed, and we cried, over and over on repeat. And finally I found the words, or a fragment of the words, to tell him goodbye.

  He sat in silence.

  “Charlie.”

  “Reese, shh. You are only doing this because you miss your mom.”

  “No.” I couldn’t look at him.

  “Then what? Where is this coming from?”

  “This last year was the first
time we’ve ever had any substantial time apart, and I think it was what I needed to see how dependent I am on you, Charlie.”

  “Why is that bad?”

  “Charlie.”

  “We’ll talk about it later, Reese. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

  But I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  As it turned out, the location of our first kiss was also the spot of our last. Loving Charlie, kissing Charlie, was as sweet and perfect as I imagined it would be, and then it was over. Finally, I stood up and walked away without looking back.

  I called Ben straightaway and told him what happened. “I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

  “Me either. That was a bold move, Hamilton. Dare I say, dramatic. A bit like Gwyneth Paltrow.”

  “Poor Gwyneth.” I giggled through my tears.

  “Poor Gwyneth? Poor Brad.”

  “Brad Pitt is dreamy, but she wasn’t ready for marriage.” I was crying still, quiet streams of heartache and confusion.

  “And neither were you. At least not to Charlie.”

  “Somehow I miss Mom.”

  “I do too. Is that why you said no to Charlie?”

  “I said no to Charlie because it was the only thing to do. I rely on him too much and he lets me. He doesn’t push me to grow at all.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know how, Reese.”

  “It’s not what I need right now. I need to figure stuff out on my own.”

  “You’ll always have me.”

  “Exactly.” I kicked the ground. “Ben, I feel lost without Mom here, which makes no sense at all,” I said through the ache in the back of my throat.

  “It makes sense.”

  “I should have been a better daughter. I should have tried to understand, to have given her a chance.” The pounding grew bigger, tight and furious in my chest. I was glad I didn’t have to look at Ben in the eye. “I should have forgiven her.”

  “Reese. You were hard on her, but you can’t beat yourself up. Mom didn’t hold it against you, and you can’t hold it against you.”

  “She could have been my Debbie Reynolds, but instead I made her Lady Tremaine.”

  “Lady who?”