by Hughes, Maya
I nodded, every muscle in my body tense almost like I was poised to outrun the pain of what was to come. Jules tightened her hold on me.
“I’m here. You’re not alone.” Her whispered words soothed the edges of the ache burning deep in my heart. She was here and she’d always be here for me.
“She’s over by the old oak tree. Here’s a map.” He circled a gravestone amongst others lined up neatly in rows. “If you need me to, I can walk you out there.”
I stared at the white paper with the simple pattern running along the border. The light blue circle on the page was scarier than anything I’d faced before. It was a kind of finality I hadn’t wanted to face.
Jules took the paper, sliding it across his desk. “We’ll be okay. If we need your help, we can come back.” She held onto my arm, anchoring me to what was happening—to my new reality, not based on childhood dreams, but the here and now.
“I understand.” The caretaker’s tight nod said this wasn’t the first person he’d had paralyzed in his office. “Oh, and this is for you.” He held out a plain white envelope, well, it had once been white. Now the edges were yellowed. Who’d written that? When? I still didn’t even know how long my mom had been buried here.
Jules took the envelope from his hand with two fingers, keeping the present firmly in her grip and gently nudged me toward the door.
I walked without feeling anything. Each step was numb and deadened. Slowly, with a measured gait that stretched our trip into what felt like weeks, we made it to the spot near the oak tree.
“This is it.” Jules stopped, standing at the end of the row. “She’s the fourth one in. Do you want me to go with you?” She stared up at me with a shine to her eyes. Her tears were for me and all I’d lost, but she was still trying so damn hard to be strong. Holding out the envelope, she looked up at me.
Shaking my head, I took the envelope and present from her.
She shook her hands out of her mittens and ran warm fingers over the backs of mine.
Her eyes glittered with unshed tears and she was fighting to be strong for me. Had there ever been anyone luckier than me? Had anyone been as loved? She nodded and took a step back, not needing to say the words I already knew. She was there if I needed her.
With my gaze trained on the long row ahead, I walked toward the inevitable. The loss of Jules’s warmth made me want to turn around and rush back to her, gather her up in my arms and bury my face in her neck, and smell her lemon-and-sugar scent until we were transported away from this place.
But I had to see it with my own eyes.
I walked past headstones surrounded by well-manicured grass. My fingers were shaking around the wrapped present. Some had flowers laid on top, and others were solitary sentries all on their own. The words on the small plaque nestled into the grass were her name. Tears swam in my eyes.
Elizabeth Caroline Vaughn. I set the present on top of the low-profile cut granite.
And the date of her death. June twenty-seventh.
And the year.
I sucked in a shuddering breath. It was five months after I’d ended up in my first foster home. Eight months after my birthday, when she’d dropped me off on my dad’s doorstep.
I fell to my knees. The snow crunched under my body, wetness seeping into my jeans. Tears streamed down my face. I’d been looking for her for over a decade and she’d been here all along. Waiting patiently for me to find her.
Soft, smooth hands ran along the back of my neck. Jules was beside me, with her arms around me cradling my head. I buried my face in her stomach and wrapped my arms around her waist, holding onto her as tightly as I could. I knew I needed to loosen it up, but she didn’t complain.
We were frozen like that for so long the muscles in my arms ached and my legs went numb. But she didn’t say a word about moving. The slow and steady drag of her fingers through my hair helped to even out my breathing and made me feel like I was no longer completely alone.
Jules was here, and that made even the worst moment of my life bearable.
“I didn’t read the note.” Each word felt dragged from my throat, raw and creaky.
“Do you want me to read it?” Her voice was a soothing caress on a blustery day.
I nodded, keeping my head against her.
The paper fluttered in her hand and she took a long breath.
“My beautiful boy,
I love you with all my heart and I’m so sorry I had to leave you. You deserve so much more than I have to give you, and now that I know I’m sick it’s only a matter of time before I can no longer take care of you. You’re the only person I have left in the world, and I don’t want to let you go, but I hope your father will be able to take care of you now that I can’t.”
Jules’ voice cracked and I held on tighter to her. The cold, scratchy wool of her coat and the steady rise of her stomach with each breath reminded me that I was still alive. I was still here—with her.
The way I’d had to take over cooking at home and how my mom had stopped going to her jobs filtered back through years of memories. How she’d gotten skinnier and the fullness of her cheeks had faded away. How much more slowly she’d walked, and the way she’d clutched her side as she’d walked away from me.
“This isn’t fair, none of it is, but I hope someday you can forgive me and that you’ll have the life you deserve. The life I never could have given you.
I love you with all my heart,
Mommy
“That’s the whole thing.” Jules wrapped her hands around my head, holding me close.
She untangled my arms from around her waist and knelt in front of me. Holding my face in her hands with the letter still clenched between her fingers, she dropped a kiss on my forehead.
“You’re loved Berk. More than you could ever know. Your mom loved you. The guys love you. Alexis loves you. I love you.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “And that will never change. Losing your mom—” Her voice gave out and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’ll be something that you always carry with you. But you have a family that loves you and will always be there for you.”
I nodded. I could barely breathe, let alone make a sound right now.
Dropping to the ground, I pulled her into my lap. With my arms tight around her, I lifted the wrapped present off the headstone.
My hand shook and Jules cupped it, holding the present with her fingers wrapped around mine.
This was the last present Mom was ever going to give me. The last time I’d ever get anything from her. The tight creases of the paper, now worn away over the years, had been made by her.
“There’s no rush. You don’t have to do this today.” Jules turned in my lap, nuzzling against the side of my face.
“I want to do it now. Will you help me?” I looked to her and she squeezed her lips together and nodded.
We worked slowly, deliberately, peeling away the worn tape, careful of each crease and edge.
Inside, the green knitted bundle was tucked neatly in a roll. My fingers rubbed against the cardboard sides as I reached inside. Unfurling it with care, I squeezed my eyes shut. Green and white with the number 11 on the front. It was so small. Had I ever really been that little? It was hard to picture.
Tears welled in my eyes. “Some of the kids at school had gotten jerseys when the new football season started. I begged my mom for one. I was such a pain in the ass. We were eating beans and rice on a good day and I wanted a stupid football jersey, when there was no way we could afford it.”
“You were a kid.” She cupped my cheek with her gloved hand. “They aren’t known for being reasonable.” Her gentle smile for that stupid kid was almost too much. Swallowing past the tightness in my throat, I pushed on.
“I don’t even know when she made this. She was always working—always.” My voice cracked. “But a few months before she left, we’d found a huge bag of yarn in the dumpster near a craft store. She made me gloves, a hat and a scarf—practical stuff. But I still b
itched about that damn jersey.” I ran my fingers over the white 11 and turned it over. My name was knitted in big block letters on the back. My favorite number. My number now. “A kid who had no idea what real life was like and how bad things could get. I never got to tell her how much I love this.” My nostrils flared, and the frigid air bit at my skin against the falling tears.
“She knew.” Jules covered my hand with hers, tracing the letters along the top.
We walked back to the car hand-in-hand, and I couldn’t take my eyes off it. She had to have stayed up all night even when she was dead tired, working on it whenever she had a spare moment.
Back at Jules’ house, I sat in the kitchen and laid the jersey out on the table. I squeezed Jules’ hand.
“Do you want to get it framed?” She ran her fingers over the number 11 and smiled.
“Maybe later.” I held the edge between my fingers. “I want to hold on to it for a bit.” A vision of a little girl in glasses with eyes just like her mother was so vivid I could almost reach out and touch her. She’d run across a huge back yard in fall wearing this. I ran my fingers over the soft yarn. Something her grandmother had made. I had a piece of my mom, and I’d be able to share that with her.
The little girl with her mom’s eyes and loving spirit would sit on my lap on the back steps and I’d read her one of her favorite books, The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies.
“Of course.” Jules got up and walked behind me, draping her arms around my neck and pressing herself against my back.
Wrapped up tightly in her arms, I took a breath and imagined what it would’ve been like to have my mom see my face when I opened it. To have her see me walk out onto the field as a professional football player.
“She knew. All the things you think she’s missing out on. She knew you loved her and she knew you’d find your happiness.” Jules kissed the back of my neck and grabbed some of my favorite cookies.
The front door opened and it sounded like a parade was charging into her house.
“We’re in here,” she called out.
And the doorframe of the kitchen nearly burst away from the wall as everyone piled inside.
I set down the jersey. Nix had his arm wrapped around Elle. Reece and Seph poked their heads out from behind them.
“What are you doing here?” I turned to Reece. “Didn’t you have a game last night?”
He grabbed me and pulled me into a hug. “It’s the craziest thing about planes—they’re in the air all the time. Jules called us up and said we should all come over for something new she’d baked up. How could we turn down that invitation?” He patted me on the back. “Plus, she said you needed us. All you ever have to do is ask and we’ll be here.”
“We thought you knew that by now.” LJ came up and gave me a hug.
“I do, but everyone needs a reminder sometimes.”
“Monumentally stupid move with that agent, man.” Nix punched me in the arm. “But I get why you did it. If I knew my mom was out there somewhere, nothing would’ve stopped me. Do we all need to go pay Johanssen a visit?”
I shook my head. “No, we’ve come to an understanding. He’s cool.”
“Not too sure about that.”
“Fine, not cool, but he’s backed off.”
“Probably that six-inch bruise covering half his face.”
“Maybe.”
I looked over at everyone crammed into the kitchen. Elle helping Nix raid Jules’ stash of goodies. Marisa and LJ keeping the table between them like they were magnets repelling one another as far as possible. Seph and Reece laughing at Nix attempting to steal an entire sleeve of mini chocolate peppermint cookies.
“Is Coach going to let you play?” Keyton stood beside me with his hands in the cookie mystery box where everything you pulled out was a prize.
“I have to sit out the rest of the season until the playoffs. Johanssen choked up like he was facing down the mob. One second, he was practically skipping, ready to fuck me over, and then he said nothing.”
“Maybe he grew a conscience,” Keyton offered.
“Nah,” everyone replied in unison and went back to talking and laughing, pulling up chairs.
Marisa broke out the blender to make some drinks, even though it was freezing outside.
Jules came up behind me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “What’s up?”
I ran my arms over hers, letting her squeeze me tight. The weight of her embrace blanketed me in a love I’d never thought I’d find. I pulled her around to my front and clasped my hands at the small of her back.
“Nothing’s up. Just taking it all in.”
She turned her head to the side, looking at our ragtag group of friends. “It’s a good day, isn’t it?”
Even with everything I’d been through today and the emotional nosedive I’d taken visiting my mom’s grave, she was right. I hugged her tighter to me and kissed her temple with a heart so full, I couldn’t hold back my smile. “It is. The best day, and I can’t wait to make a lifetime of memories like these with you.”
Epilogue – Spring Fling
“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.” Elle tugged at the neckline of my shirt like a doting mother.
“Weren’t you the one telling me to let these girls loose?” I tugged the bottom of the shirt, pushing the neckline back where it was.
“This is a stupid tradition.”
“You always wanted me to go to more parties.” I laughed at her narrowed gaze. “I’m in a T-shirt and jeans. You’re acting like I’m walking outside in a pole dancing outfit with tassels on my nipples.”
“Does Berk know you’re going out in this?”
“He’s not my keeper, Elle. And yes, he fully supports whatever I want to do or wear.” Although it had taken a few baked-good-bracketed bedroom sessions for him to agree not to growl at anyone who looked at me sideways.
I checked myself out in the mirror. The special-order T-shirt had arrived just in time for the campus Halloween do-over with much better weather. Philly in late October wasn’t known for its amazing weather, so decades ago, the campus planned their own version for the Friday before spring break. Better weather, and a long stretch off after to recover from the debauchery.
Elle stood beside me in a Princess Leia outfit complete with cinnamon roll hair buns. Instead of taking one look at her and grabbing my sweatshirt and hiding, we finished up getting ready and I was excited to go to the party. Not that we were traveling far, but a party at The Brothel would have been beyond my imagination only a year ago. So would the fact that I’d slept in Berk’s bed just as many nights as he slept in mine, and that he looked at me like I’d walked off a Paris Fashion Week runway every time I stepped into the room.
My costume wasn’t even a costume—although I did have a headband with a cupcake on it and a giant wooden mixing spoon I could use like a staff—but my shirt was the cherry on top.
In big bold letters across the front, it spelled out DOUGH HO.
“We’re going to a party at The Brothel, it’s hardly like I’ll be strutting around City Hall in this. I can laugh at it now. And you know what? I can’t say I haven’t dipped my fingers in a hell of a lot of dough, so…” I shrugged. “We’re going to have fun.” Loading our arms up with containers of cookies, we set off on our short journey like two Little Reds in search of our Big Bad Wolves.
The music from The Brothel and half the houses on the block filled the air with a pulsing, rumbling beat.
“Remember when I called the cops on them for these parties?” Elle linked her arm through mine.
“You’re saying that like it was a one-time thing. Was the tally ten by the time you and Nix started bumping uglies?”
She swatted at my arm. “Ew. But let’s say that maybe I was a little over the top.” Holding her fingers up almost touching, she looked at me through the gap.
We stopped at the bottom of the stairs to their porch and burst out laughing.
She opened the door and all heads swun
g our way. I straightened my back, not shrinking away like old Jules might have.
“Hell, yes!” someone called out from the crowd of people in the living room. “Jules is here!”
“My queen, may I relieve you of your parcels of deliciousness?” Keyton crossed the room and knelt in front of us, crossing an arm over his chest in his Roman soldier uniform, complete with shield and sword. Touching each shoulder with my spoon sceptre, I knighted him and handed over the goods. Within seconds, he was mobbed and people grabbed handfuls of the cookies.
“I think that means they like them,” Elle stage-whispered to me.
“Keyton gets first dibs on the cookies? Not cool.” Berk walked out of the kitchen with two red plastic cups in his hands. They didn’t exactly go with his toga and the gold leaf crown wrapped around his head, but the butterflies in my stomach didn’t care. Their wings had gotten bigger, and every time he looked at me I felt like the luckiest woman in the room—hell, the world.
Taking one of the cups, I took a sip. “It’s not my fault he beat you to the punch.”
“No, I was getting you punch.”
“Touché.”
“You didn’t save any for me?” Nix walked in looking like Elle had told him Santa wasn’t real. Dejected, he held onto both cups, clutching them to his chest.
I couldn’t stop my laugh at his crestfallen expression, especially since he had a giant green alien inflatable attached to his back with fake arms around his waist so it looked like he was being carried away.
She cupped his cheek. “Don’t worry. There’s a whole box for us back at the house.”
He wrapped his arms around her, crushing her to him and almost spilling the drinks on her.
“What about me? I’m the one who made them.”
Berk wrapped his arms tighter around me and whispered against the back of my neck. “You saved some for me, didn’t you?”
I shuddered, trying to keep my knees under control at the gentle caress of his lips against my skin.
“There’s an even bigger surprise waiting for you.” I turned, our mouths less than an inch apart.