by Allison Rios
“I’m trying to understand,” he replied. He placed his hand on hers and took a breath. “And I’ll try to be patient. But I really, really need you to keep your word. I want to know who my child is. I’m not about to go rip a kid from the only home they’ve ever known. That wouldn’t be fair. Too much time has passed. I just want to know they’re okay, you know?”
“Yeah,” she replied.
“And I know I’ve been pestering you about us. I won’t be doing that anymore.” He lifted her chin up so he could make sure she heard him. “I love you, Rae, there’s no denying that. For the rest of my life, my heart will always have a place for you. But now, well, I just don’t know that I can get past all of this. I forgive you – for everything – but I’m not sure I can ever look at you without remembering what brought us to where we are now. I’m not mad at ya, I’m not over ya. I just don’t know that we can ever go back to being what I hoped we’d be.”
She nodded while the tears threatened to reveal how hard it was to be told there was no future for them. She held them in long enough for him to look away. Rae took a bite of the eggs and immediately reached for the apple juice.
“I said I’d make you breakfast,” he said. “I never promised it would be good.”
Between his smile and the warmth of his hand wrapped around hers, she began to feel the healing she’d been longing for since they were younger.
Chapter 30
Wednesday, October 7
James opened the door to the store and returned to the counter to find Gramps sipping on a cup of freshly-brewed coffee.
“What are you doing here?” James asked.
“The better question is, what are you doing here?
Shouldn’t you be home resting?”
“Rest is for the mere mortals,” James said sarcastically.
“You’re going to injure yourself worse. Then you’ll just be in more pain.”
“I’m pretty confident that my pain level right now is as high as it will ever be. I’ll survive.”
James struggled to run through his morning checklist of opening the store while balancing on crutches loaned to him by Micah. He had little luck in minimizing the sharp pains.
“Word is that Rae heads home to Chicago tomorrow,” said Gramps.
“Yes, sir.”
“Anything you’d like to tell me about that?”
James peered at Gramps over his shoulder. The old man was nothing if not a snoop.
“We’ve made our peace, Gramps. That’s it.”
“I heard about her cancer.” The old man nearly whispered as though saying the words in a normal tone would make them even worse. “You know that wouldn’t stay a secret in town very long.”
“Yeah. There’s that, too.”
“You don’t seem like the type of guy who would leave a girl in that condition.”
“You can’t leave a party you never went to,” James said. “I think you told me that once.”
“I’m pretty smart,” Gramps laughed. “This is it, huh?”
James hesitated. He hated to keep a secret from the man he considered his closest confidant and best friend, but he couldn’t quite find the initiative to tell him about everything that had happened yet. Not until he had an idea where his child was.
“You gonna be okay, son?”
“Yeah,” James replied, softly. “Time’s supposed to heal the wounds, right?”
“Not the ones that keep splitting open,” Gramps mumbled under his breath.
Micah interrupted the conversation as his low and charming voice drew their attention to the front of the store.
“Hey there, gentlemen!” he bellowed.
“Hey there, Micah,” Gramps replied, shifting the newspaper to peek above it at the kid he considered another grandson. “What’re you up to today?”
“Bumming around. Running errands. Everything exciting in Jessup. Got to take these sweet wheels out on the town,” he said, motioning to his now decorated wheelchair.
“Hey man,” James said as he pulled his friend into a manly chest bump hug complete with a pat on the back.
“Heard Rae’s leaving soon,” Micah said.
“Word spreads fast around here, doesn’t it?” James said.
“What happened with you two?”
“Nothing,” James said. He finished wiping the counter and tried to shift his attention elsewhere.
“Am I supposed to like her? Hate her? Tell me which way I’m expected to lean on this, so I’m prepared.” James laughed. Micah had always had his back.
“We don’t hate her. We just treat her like anyone else, Micah. She and I are on different paths, and we’re both going to have to be good with that. We’ve made our peace.”
“That girl is human fast food,” Micah said as he popped a lollipop in his mouth. The comment drew Gramps’ attention away from the dull, small-town paper.
“Do I even want to ask where this is going?” James said, curious as well.
“I will never understand how something that looks so good can be so bad for you.”
James rolled his eyes and shrugged off the idea, though he found it to be a somewhat accurate assessment of the situation.
“What are you in here for anyway?”
“Groceries.” Micah wheeled off with a basket in hand to peruse the aisles while James finished prepping the counter for the day’s customers.
“Boy has a point,” Gramps said.
“About what.”
“About Rae.”
“Gramps, I’m really not in the mood right now.”
“Now, you need to hear this. I’ve spent the last thirty seconds coming up with it, and I want to share my never-ending wisdom.”
James stopped what he was doing and leaned back against the wall with his arms folded firmly across his chest.
“Micah’s right. You’ve wanted Rae so much that she’s nearly caused you a truly broken heart. You’re lucky though. You see, when you step back and realize that too much of something is bad for you, you learn a very valuable lesson. You don't have to completely give up the things in life that are bad for you. You just have to find a way to have them in your life differently. Moderation. When you try and give up something completely, most people will falter because they’ll miss it too much, and then what good has it done them to give it up? A few weeks free of the beast? No. Keep it in moderation. Learn how to keep her in your life in a way that is healthy for both of you.”
“What if that isn’t possible?”
“As a wise, elderly man, I’m going to tell you something really extraordinary.” Gramps leaned towards his grandson and placed an old, wrinkled hand on the young man’s arm. “Most decisions we make won’t hinder our lives. Even if they’re bad ones, we usually have the opportunity to correct them or make something better. That’s not going to happen if you choose to let go of Rae. A year from now, a decade from now, you’re going to be looking back at this exact moment in time and wondering how things would have gone if you’d just made a different decision. I know, because for the last fifteen years you’ve been wondering where your life would be if she were still here. You’re a fool if you think that because of whatever she said or did your heart can find a way to be completely over her. It can’t. And showing up at her funeral will never be the same as showing up in her life. Be her friend, James. Sometimes the grandest gesture another human can make is to just show up.”
Micah’s arrival at the counter halted the conversation.
“Wow, this got awkward quickly,” Micah said as he surveyed the two men stationed in silence.
“What’s all this for?” James studied the contents of Micah’s basket. It contained far more groceries than normal, including fresh vegetables – which James had never seen his friend purchase in his life.
“I’m cooking tonight.”
“Starting a new diet?” Gramps asked.
“Expanding my horizons.”
“Eating alone?” James stared his friend down with a grin
.
“Why is that any of your business?”
“What time is Nella coming over?”
“Who said it was Nella?” Micah replied.
“It’s what you didn’t say. You’re the first one to blabber on and on about whatever good-looking girl you’ve got coming over for a date – dates which, mind you, you’ve never once cooked for. Your hesitation and basket full of Nella’s favorite vegetables tells me you are cooking for her.”
“I’m cooking for a friend,” Micah said. He shifted uncomfortably.
“Great, then I’ll be over at six.”
The men stared at each other for a moment as James waited for his friend to give in and relent to save face.
“Sorry man, I’m only buying enough for two.”
Chapter 31
Tuesday, October 20
“You want to talk about it?” Becca asked from the safety of Rae’s doorway. She’d known for a while that their time working together was running short but somehow, Becca never actually thought the day would come when Rae would give up her position.
Rae smiled as she swiveled the chair around to face the only real friend she had in Chicago.
“It’s hard to say goodbye to all of this,” she said. “And to know that Robert is going to take over all the hard work
I did. And it’s really, really hard to say goodbye to you.”
“I’m really sorry, Rae,” Becca replied, wiping away an escaped tear.
“None of that now,” she said to Becca. “It’s hardest to say goodbye to you. I feel awful leaving you here to fend for yourself.”
“I’m going to be just fine,” Becca said. “I’m a big girl.
I can handle Robert.”
“I don’t think I ever said thank you,” Rae said. She walked around her desk to sit next to Becca.
“For what?”
“For making me go back home.”
“Really? You were so mad when you left that I figured you were silently plotting how to fire me or kill me.”
“Maybe I was,” Rae smirked, “but it was honestly what I needed to do. I had to go back and make amends so that I can go home now in peace without a lifetime of secrets tugging at my heart.”
“You’re a good person, Rae.”
“You’re a great person, Becca. I admire you. You’ve always known who you are and what you want to do. You’re not afraid to stand up for yourself and live the life that you want to live, regardless of what other people think. I’ve spent my life irritated at people who tell me I should do this or that, and I realized I was always trying to make you be something you didn’t want to be when I pushed you to further your career. You’re amazing at your job and do things I couldn’t for the life of me figure out. You can talk to anyone. You can diffuse a tense situation without a hint of discomfort. You listen to people and pay attention. Most of the time, you know me better than I know myself. Don’t ever let anyone tell you that’s not enough. You are an asset to any team in any position you choose, and I am so proud to have worked with you.”
The tears openly flowed down Becca’s cheeks as Rae hugged her tightly. The red curls tickled Rae’s face, but she didn’t budge; she wanted to comfort Becca and take away her pain. Rae’s heart flooded with fear as she realized that the hug and cry fest would be a regular occurrence over the next year – or however long she had left.
“Your flight leaves in a few hours,” Becca said between sniffles. “Your doctors have all your contact information and know how to reach you if there’s a clinical trial you’re eligible for or a match becomes available. I’ve faxed all your medical records to the specialist closest to where you’ll be living. A car is picking you up at seven, and the truck with your belongings will be leaving first thing in the morning.”
“You’re still taking care of me.”
“Someone has to,” Becca said with a laugh. “Will you let me know how you’re doing?”
“I will,” Rae replied. “And my mom knows to call you.” She couldn’t finish the thought. Ever the organizer, Rae had already made a list of people to contact if anything happened. “And if you are ever interested, I’d love for you to come visit me in Jessup. We don’t have many eligible bachelors there, but I know my friends would love to meet you.”
“I might need a vacation,” Becca laughed. “Soon!”
When they were finally able to let go, Becca slipped back out the door and closed it gently.
Rae thought back to the day earlier in the month when she’d packed her bag to leave Jessup. She’d anticipated at least a few months of work and tying up loose ends before returning home, though life had other ideas. When the doctors suggested she consider having someone there with her at her appointment, she knew the time had come to move home. Before she left, she’d been able to sit down with the girls and tell them all about her diagnosis, though they already knew. They made it clear they had her back no matter what, though their disappointment in her bordered on unforgivable. Lucky for her, they had more faith in her than she had in herself.
She dreaded returning home again because of how she’d left everything with James. He’d come to see her one last time before she left and she’d refused. She watched from the window of her childhood bedroom – where years before she had stood longing in anticipation of James’ arrival – as he moved carefully down the driveway and to his truck. He’d turned and waved as though he knew she was watching and then drove off back down a street he’d traveled a thousand times before.
As angry as he had to have been after all the lies and the surprises, he’d still come to wish her well. Her mother had told her as much as they sat quietly packing Rae’s bags for her departure.
Lorraine said the same when she’d come up the weekend before to help Rae pack for the move back to Jessup.
Rae stopped herself from crying. Tears didn’t matter.
Before long, she thought, the only thing I’ll be is a memory.
She finished typing and before her mind could logically tell her to delete it all, she added a note to her friends. With another deep breath, she read over the text of her email.
“Girls, I know you are trying to understand. I know you’re struggling with why I couldn’t tell you something so important. I hope this helps you understand a little more.”
Then she reluctantly pressed send.
Chapter 32
Tuesday, October 20
Rae’s Email
She lived beyond that day, in the physical sense, though it wasn’t as much of a life as she’d anticipated. She merely existed and carried out her duties as expected with each day, month, and year that passed by.
At least, that’s how my movie trailer would start if I had the time to write a screenplay. Telling stories has always been a way for me to write my adventures, dreams, shortcomings, and successes, though I’ve never openly shared most of it with anyone. Looking back at my journals, it’s as good a ways as any to get to know me if you feel like you don’t know the woman I’ve become.
At nineteen, I believed in love and romantic gestures. Now, at thirty-three, I’m not one to believe in fairy tales. I’ve long since given up hope that I would lead a life full of the love and excitement I longed for.
Yet with each passing anniversary of that fateful day, I find I care less about romance and more about the love I had surrounding me my entire life from my friends and family; a different kind of love that I took for granted. And a love I never gave a chance to – a mother’s love.
I will never forget that day long ago in the sterile and unwelcoming hospital. Between the beige walls of a birthing room equipped to usher in one of the most meaningful moments of a woman’s life, I turned my back on the first magnificent breaths of my first – and only – child. Curled up to protect myself from the shame I felt closing in on me, I covered my ears to distance myself from the soft cries. It didn’t help. To this day, I hear those delicate cries and hate myself for not soothing my child’s pain.
My mother sympathet
ically pleaded with me from the other side of the hospital bed. She tried to coax me to turn around and at least take in a single glimpse of the child’s perfect, rosy cheeks, but I refused. My decision was partially denial, partially a belief that not looking would make everything simpler.
I could say that I only wanted to give the child a better life, but that was only a piece of it. Every inch of my being felt I didn’t deserve the blessing of laying eyes upon a child I would never see again. If the cries still sadden me, I can only imagine how that angelic face would haunt me. The baby never felt like mine at all, and I didn’t want anything to change that dynamic and make the day any harder than it already was.
When I left that hospital childless at nineteen, in the middle of my sophomore year at college, I found myself caught between the whims of a child and the responsibilities of an adult. I added one more moment of regret to a growing list of those, but I knew I would have to carry that one forever. I couldn’t tell my friends because they are beautiful, incredible human beings I didn’t want looking at me with pity. I knew that would lead to more shame and regret. So selfishly, I kept the secret locked away, buried under layers of remorse and desperation.
I knew every time I looked at my child, I would be reminded of the life I wanted but would never have with a man who would never love me as I dreamed. I missed the only man I’d ever really loved, even amongst the many men I’d tried and failed to love adequately in my short romantic life. And perhaps therein hid the real reason I wouldn’t look at the child – if I saw him in the baby’s eyes, I might not be able to let go. And not letting go would disappoint and ruin the lives of yet more people I’d made a promise to protect, especially the baby.