Prairie Fire

by Djuna Shellam

  Shortly after Prairie left to work for the team, Em remembered saying to Gwen, in a rare moment of candor, “I don’t love her.”

  Gwen’s eyebrows raised.

  “Not…” Em sighed, exasperated with herself. “I mean, of course I love her, but not… I’m not—I don’t think I’m in love with her. I think, more than anything, I… maybe… sometimes it’s more lust? I don’t know. Prairie does something to my insides—she sets me on fire, like… crazy. But… I know, deep inside—I think I’ve always known—she’s not the one. If she was, she’d be here. The one will want me, and only me. Prairie doesn’t want me only—at least it doesn’t seem that way. Her job…”

  Gwen insisted Prairie truly loved Em, but admitted that Prairie was ambitious, and not inclined to give up her dream if it meant choosing between it and Em. Although Em needed her to stay, even though she would never have asked that of Prairie, there was still that divide between them that kept Em from committing her heart to Prairie. Before Fiona, Em had Alice standing between her and Prairie and any future they might have. What Em hadn’t foreseen was the tremendous impact Fiona would have on her life. She was different than Prairie, and in many ways similar to Alice. Fiona confused Em, but now that Fiona was gone, Em once again felt abandoned.

  The moment Em opened the door to Prairie’s house, she knew she had made the right decision. The ever-present ghosts of Prairie and Fiona greeted her as she entered the house. It was no longer a home to her, and had become a house that held too many complicated emotions for her. It was time to leave the ghosts and begin again.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Truly, Deeply, Sorry

  27.1—1996

  “Fi, why? Why did you leave me—us?” Em spoke quietly to the ceiling. “You know you’ve broken my heart, don’t you? How am I…?” Em broke down for a minute, the weight of Fiona’s passing overwhelming her. “Okay, okay. I have got to get a grip,” Em said to herself as she used every part of her self control to keep the overwhelming grief at bay. “What do you have to say to me that I don’t already know, Fiona Elizabeth McIntyre?”

  Em picked up Fiona’s letter and began to read the words written in Fiona’s beautiful script, with areas that appeared to be blurred by tear stains, though she couldn’t be sure.

  ~/~/~/~/~

  My Darling,

  I will begin by saying “I’m sorry,” because if you’re reading this letter, I know you’re confused, pissed off, hurt and no doubt, gutted. It means I’ve died before having a chance to talk to you first. For that, I’m sorry, love.

  Let me say first, you have been perhaps the most genuine person I have ever met in my life. I knew you were different from the precise moment we met at Prairie’s. It may sound a bit clichéd, perhaps, but I don’t click with many people. You and Prairie are it as far as my circle of friends, and I’m not really great at that, either. I’ve always been a loner, except when you and Prairie have been in my life; and even then, I seemed to have needed to be somewhere else. That doesn’t mean I haven’t loved you both dearly the entire time. I have. I think of you both almost everyday. Prairie and I have managed to see each other on a more regular basis, but I’ll give her all the credit for that, being it’s always been her effort.

  You’re both important to me, but you Em, you are special. You know, I never felt the need or even the desire to couple with anyone—woman or man—and I think that’s fairly unusual amongst the human species. At least among all the humans I’ve ever met it’s true. I realized my quirk early and never compromised it. The only time I ever considered going against my nature was with you. Funny, isn’t it?

  After our time loving each other, I know we agreed it was something never to be spoken of again for our friendship, and of course, for Prairie, but the truth is, I had fallen hopelessly in love with you. For the first and only time in my life. By the way, Prairie still doesn’t know and I would hope she never will. I could have easily given in to the incredible passion we both experienced and allowed myself to become seduced by normalcy and my love for you. But I knew in the end, I would hurt you irreparably, and all these years of friendship hence would have never been. I loved you, Em, more deeply than I’d loved anyone in my life. I never wanted to hurt you as I hurt Prairie. I love you still. I’ve always loved you. I never stopped. Not for a moment.

  Of course I love Prairie, too, but not in a romantic way. Yet, as long as I lived, I could never undo the pain I caused her. It’s that pain I caused Prairie which kept you and I from ever being an “us” or anything more than what we were. Honestly, I never understood why she ever stayed in my life after all that unpleasantness, but she did and I’ve been so grateful for it. I didn’t want that to happen with you and me. I couldn’t risk the possibility that you would get hurt and I’d never see you again. You are that special to me.

  As our friendship grew after the unspeakable, what I found was that even if I had given in to my own carnal desires, in the end, what I wanted most from you would have destroyed whatever romantic, lasting relationship we might have had. And what a wonderful, lasting, friendship we’ve had. It’s certainly not been your garden variety “best friends for life” type of friendship, because it’s been so unconventional, hasn’t it? But it’s the best one I’ve ever had.

  At this point, since you’re reading this letter, none of that matters, does it? I am, or at least I should be, dead. I know that may seem morbid, and as I’m alive as I write this, it may seem cruel for me to be so cavalier about something that may someday hurt you and Prairie; but the reality is the reality, and it’s not going to feel any better or any worse if I parse my words.

  I love you so dearly, Em, and have loved you for so long. When I thought of who would take care of my darling baby boy when I’m gone, there was no question in my mind that it should be you. That’s why I’ve given guardianship of Liam to you upon my death, though I want you to adopt him as your own. Please don’t be angry with me because I didn’t tell you about him. I wanted to, many, many times, but please, let me explain. Hopefully, you’ll understand more fully why I chose you, and why I’ve done everything the way I’ve done it.

  I’ve always wanted a child. You know that. I told you it was the one thing in my life I would regret to my grave if I didn’t do. I didn’t know how I would do it, or when, but I knew I would, somehow. My parents had me late in life, and my mum died of a heart attack giving birth to me. My two sisters, Moira and Shawna, as you may remember, were twelve and fourteen years older than I. Shortly after I was born, my dad remarried and left me with my maternal grandparents who took me back to England. They were lovely people, but they weren’t expecting to raise a baby in their sixties. I spent all of my first years alone. I know it’s why I’ve been perfectly content to be by myself as an adult because I knew how to do it. I know now it wasn’t normal, but to me, it was.

  When I was four, my grandparents died within six months of each other. My father’s new wife didn’t want me, so my eldest sister, Shawna, who was already married and expecting a child, took me in. She and her husband Daniel raised me until I left for the Air Force after high school. Their daughter, my niece, became almost a sister to me, but when she got older, we drifted apart. My grandparents left a nice little nest egg for me that I could have used for college or to start a small business, but instead, I invested it. When my dad died of lung cancer at the age of 60, he left a small inheritance to my two sisters and me. Again, I invested it, feeling I wanted to earn my own money, and I would keep the inheritances for something monumental down the line.

  That’s a refresher course on my background. Over the years we’ve talked about everything under the sun, it seems, but I’m not sure how much you remembered. I also hope you will pass on my history to Liam, in due time. As soon as I was eligible to, I enlisted in the Air Force and eventually met Prairie in England. I broke her heart because she wanted us to nest and be a couple. I just wanted to be what we were, which was roommates, mates and friends with benefits, if you will
. It was a long while after Prairie broke everything off with me before we became good friends again. Long story short, that’s how I ended up in Los Angeles—and met you. Well, now I’m just meandering and waxing nostalgic.

  I left L.A. and you because I knew I had to get away from you. As much as I hated to do so, I had no choice, really. My love for you was too great of a temptation. It wasn’t the career I left for as much as I was so afraid I would be weak and destroy everything I wanted for my life, including you, by choosing you. If I had done so, I would have destroyed both you and Prairie. Not an option, frankly. So I left, reluctantly, and started a great career that I still love.

  The entire time, however, it was always in the back of my mind that I wanted to have a child. I plotted how I would have it the way I wanted to, where I could be at home with him or her and not have to have strangers raise my child whilst I worked. What’s the point of having a child if you’re going to have someone else raise it was how I always felt. Some women feel differently, and that’s their business. For me, if I was going to bother to have a baby, I had to be with my baby.

  The years passed, and I figured I had until forty before I might start having trouble conceiving, so the idea remained on the back burner. I would still have time to get my finances together for the independence I required. As you may remember, shortly after I turned 28, my eldest sister Shawna had a massive heart attack and died. She was 42, the same age as my mum when she died. When I turned 35, my other sister, Moira, was at the public swimming pool with her kids when she had a stroke and died. She was 47.

  Within days after Moira’s funeral, I once again began plotting the birth of my child. Did I want an anonymous donor? A lover? A one-night stand? I didn’t know, but I was so afraid the baby window was closing, and fast. At long last, I began trying IVF when I was thirty-nine. I spent thousands and thousands of dollars, and it took nearly four years before I got pregnant. It wasn’t a constant thing as I would start and stop many times during that time period. I was so excited, but I was also afraid something was going to happen. Through it all, I wanted to tell you so much, but I was terrified that if I talked about it, something terrible would happen. What if you disapproved? Looking back, it’s all ridiculous and I wish I had done everything differently. I never planned on telling Prairie for all of the same reasons, but she happened to come into town when I was eight months along and just dropped in, because that’s what she does. I couldn’t hide my belly, but I did ask her not to tell anyone, not even you. Numerous times she tried to convince me otherwise, but I just couldn’t. Not yet.

  It’s true. I wanted to tell you myself, in person, because I wanted you to love my baby boy from the moment you laid eyes on him. I didn’t want it to be a letter or a phone call. In hindsight, I know it all sounds insane, and perhaps I was a little crazy. If I could go back in time, I would change it, Emmy.

  I was convinced I was having a girl and was going to name her Emily, but surprise, surprise, I had a little baby boy. I named him William after my grandfather, and Emmet after you, but I call him Liam. I never cared for the names Will or Bill, but I loved my grandfather so much and wanted Liam to have his name.

  I don’t know where the time went, but before I knew it, Liam was a year old, and then two, and I still hadn’t gotten a chance to take him down to L.A. to meet the most special person I’ve ever known or loved. Each day I didn’t tell you only made it worse.

  When Liam turned eighteen months old, I began to feel rundown, out of breath, lightheaded from time to time. Foolishly, I thought it was from being a stay-at-home mom, living off my inheritance, doing everything by myself. Yes, I had finally found a use for my inheritances. They allowed me the freedom to work when I chose, and spend the rest of the time with the love of my life.

  I finally went to my doctor who referred me to a specialist. After months of tests, what I learned was devastating. I had inherited a bad heart and some type of disorder of the veins and arteries from my mum. I was in the mid to late stages of heart failure, but even with medications, without an eventual transplant, I was looking at an early demise just like my mother and sisters, whether from a heart attack or stroke.

  Em, I died inside when I learned I mightn’t have a long, wonderful life with my son. He is truly the light of my life. He’s everything I dreamed having a child would be. The idea I may not make it to enrolling him into kindergarten, let alone to his wedding, or kiss his children is devastating to me. It’s a wonder I can even think sometimes. I don’t know if it will be tomorrow or five years from now, but I do know that when I am gone, I do not want my baby to grow up with a stranger. You may not know him, but you are not a stranger. Other than Liam, you are the only person I’ve ever felt completely at one with.

  I have no one but you and Prairie, Em. Prairie is a wonderful friend and I love her so much, but she is the wanderlust aunt. She is great with Liam as the cool auntie who pops in, plays with him, takes him to the zoo, buys him great toys, but then she’s gone for months. I could never ask her to be someone or something she’s not. And honestly, Liam would suffer for it. Prairie is best at being Prairie. She’s not a mum.

  You know, as an aside, I almost think she loved you more than she would ever admit, Em. But she felt you would never be present with her because of Alice. There was no reason for her to stay if there was a chance Alice would come back into your life. Of course, now we know why and I’m so sorry that happened to you and you know that. That you felt you had to keep Alice’s death a secret that honestly didn’t need to be kept, broke my heart. But now you have Eve who, from every account, is your “one.” I’ve never been so happy as when you told me about her. You deserve a happy ending, Em.

  When I think of who I would want Liam to be raised by, I can think of no one better than you. Yes, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking you’re not the motherly type, you would be a terrible mum and you’re too old, and damaged from your own unconventional childhood. I know you, Em. At least I know who you think you are, but I know who you really are, and that’s who I would want to raise my precious little boy. And, the bonus is, you have Eve. I know, I’ve never met her, but I hear in your voice how much she means to you, and I know how she saved your life and how your life’s changed with her in it. There is no doubt in my mind that you are the people I want in my son’s life, to raise him.

  I’ve thought a million times of coming down to L.A. and telling you everything, but Em, I don’t want people to look at me as if I’m dying, even though I am. Especially not you. I couldn’t tell Prairie for purely selfish reasons. I needed her to be normal for my sake. Knowing your number may come up at any moment is not an easy way to live. I’m going to spend every waking moment with my beautiful boy and try to live every moment as if it’s my last, but at the same time, I don’t want the rest of my life consumed with my dying.

  As for Liam’s dad, he was an anonymous donor who does not ever want to be contacted. I wasn’t sure if that’s how I wanted to have a child, one who would never know his biological father, but after much deliberation, the donor was perfect in every way but for that one thing. I hope Liam will understand. You will receive all of the particulars about Liam’s donor so that when he’s old enough, you can share the information with him.

  Please don’t be angry with me, and please, I beg you, for Liam’s sake, try not to be sad. He’s so sensitive and loving, he will be greatly affected by sadness. Em, he is the most loving, smart, funny, creative, well-behaved creature on this planet. I am so proud that I made him, and my heart is breaking knowing that I will probably never see what an amazing adult he will become. Please take care of him. Love him. Teach him. Nurture him. But most of all… please don’t ever let him forget me. Let him know he was the most important and most wonderful thing I’ve ever done in my whole life, and that without him, my life, with few exceptions, would have been next to nothing. He makes me feel a level of joy every single day that I did not feel was possible for a human being to experience. If
I’m not able to experience it, Em, I want you to for me. And don’t just be his auntie or adopted parent. I want you to adopt him. Be his mum. Yes, he will change your life, Em, but I feel confident it will be a change you will thank me for someday. I couldn’t give you myself all those years ago, but now you’ll have the best part of me.

  Until that day comes, I hope you will accept my apology for everything you think I did wrong. You’re probably right, which is why I’m truly, deeply, sorry. I love you with everything in me that’s left after Liam. You made my life better by being the most amazing friend and lover I’ve ever had, Em. I’m sorry circumstances were such we could never be, but then, you and Eve would have missed out on the amazing thing you have now. Everything works out, Emmy.

  Love you forever, Fiona

  27.2—Grief

  Em gently placed the letter on her desk, smoothing it out with her hands. She was numb. Her heart was beating hard in her chest, but her brain, her emotions, were suspended in some strange, dazed place. She couldn’t even think. She sat back in the chair and eased out a breath she’d been holding to some degree almost since she began reading the letter.

  One moment she couldn’t feel or process anything, and in the next moment Em let out a sob she didn’t expect or know was lurking in the deepest depths of her. Fiona’s sudden passing became too real to her, too fast. She wanted to throw herself on the floor in a heap and wail, the impact of Fiona’s death was so great and overwhelming. In her head, Em relived, over and over again, snippets of her life with Fiona. Those that were happy made her cry knowing she could never get them back; those that were regrets made her sob knowing she would never be able to undo them.