Beatless
Page 18
And I took your advice. All of it. Because you were so right about everything:
My world exploded. My heart broke. I faced my fears, and learned that my greatest enemy was myself.
I hope you are looking down on me from heaven with all your babies, smiling because you saw that I came out of it so much better. I did, Aunt Sam. You can rest knowing that.
I wanted to tell you that you were one of my coats. That you always fit. And I couldn’t take you off if I tried - because I’d never want to.
And if I had a time machine? I’d go back and spend more time with you.
I’m so sorry for all of the pain you experienced. There are good people who get dealt a bad hand in life, who seem to have black clouds that hang over them no matter what they do. But, I believe, they’re the ones who see the light so much more clearly when it slips through the darkness. You did. And I’m following in your footsteps.
I put Vanderbilt off for a year. Maybe more. I don’t need to know everything that comes next. We’re taking your car on a road trip from Georgia to California. With a real camera. A paper map. And nothing but the road before us. Just me and Tucker.
I promise to think of you the entire time.
xoxo
Mal
***
After I finished writing the letter to Sam, I put it into a red envelope with her name written on the front. I stood in the middle of my room and exhaled, closing my eyes once before I opened them and looked around. So much had changed, and yet it looked the same. My closet door was void of pictures. The walls were white, and the lights had been removed. Mom had listed the house just a couple weeks before.
It was under the guise that I was heading off for a year and the house was too big. But I knew she couldn’t take being there alone in the house where Sam died.
I didn’t blame her.
It still caused an ache in my chest when I walked by her bedroom, even though her stuff was in boxes and her furniture was in storage. Her walls were white, too. But, strangely, I could still feel her there. Like, if I turned a corner too quickly, she’d appear at the window, staring out into the backyard, ready to tell me how she’d snuck boys into her room while my Mom was asleep.
The curtains in my room were pulled back, the windows open to the warm summer breeze. I glanced out and watched Tucker as he stood by Sam’s car, talking to my mom. He had an air pressure gauge in his hand and I could hear him telling her that he’d checked all the tires. He kicked one for emphasis, smiling at her with confidence.
He’d come so far. It was difficult for him to accept his Associates. It made him feel like he was really done with community college once and for all. That guilt that had driven him for so long held him back and it wasn’t until he told Eliza what he wanted to do, that he felt it was okay. She told him not to be an idiot - that of course he should go. And that she’d be pissed if he stayed home.
It was a pretty easy decision from there.
We just had one stop to make in town before we left. I told him that I needed to leave Sam’s letter at her grave. That it felt appropriate to give it directly to her instead of holding onto it or putting it in a drawer somewhere to be forgotten.
I took one last look around my room, holding one small shoe box. It was filled with pictures from a year that changed my whole life. Before I turned to leave, I reached over and took that old bracelet off the cork board. It was the last thing left there. Rubbing my fingers across the colorful plastic, my chest tightened. I slipped it onto my wrist, took one last long look around, and headed down the stairs.
Sam’s voice, clear as day, called to me as I walked out the front door. She told me, like it was a secret that only the two of us knew, that as long as I was alive, she’d be with me. I knew she’d guide me from heaven, and hopefully, feel proud of me. Sam would always be a part of me.
Until my very last heartbeat.
About the Author
Amber is a full-time mom, full-time wife, is employed full time, and writes when she can. She believes in Happily Ever Afters that occur every day - despite the obstacles that real life serves up on a regular basis. Or perhaps they're sweeter simply because of them. She always has two rubber bands on her wrist, a song in her head, and too much creamer in her coffee cup that reads 'Cocoa' - because she's a rebel. If she's not at her desk, with her boys, or behind the computer, she's supporting live music with her arms raised above her head and eyes closed, waiting for the drop.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to the following individuals who without their contributions and support this book would not have been written:
To Fall Out Boy, OneRepublic and Paramore for providing inspiration on repeat. The soundtrack of my life is written in the lyrics of your songs.
To my family who puts up with the clack of keyboard strokes that are probably louder than others. For pimping my writing, even though you hate the word ‘pimping.’ For always believing that I could do this, even though you’ll never know what happened to Sandy.
To Kathie Spitz who claims she doesn’t have to do a lot to edit my work. But I know better.
To Lindsey Gray for taking on the enormous task of making this book pretty and ready for publication. I am grateful and indebted to your wonderful work and support.
To Lori Wilt who loves Tucker and lyrics, and me. Not in any particular order. And who knows it really is Claire’s fault. Thank you for putting up with my constant barrage of emails asking for your opinion.
To Stephanie Alexander who is the world’s best writing partner, cheerleader, and mentor. We are going to light this world on fire someday. Thank you for never once telling me to shut up even when I deserve it.
To April Brumley who offers her education and intelligence willingly and with a smile and constructive criticism that I actually look forward to receiving. Here’s to avoiding cliches and making new friends that I’ll cherish until you get tired of me.
To Angela Vanburen who gets tingles from hip touches and gives feedback that make the plot cohesive. And who knows the value of our mutual love of iMessage.
To Annie Rockwell who puts up with every anxious email that results in beautiful images and book covers that I would never have expected. Your vision and creativity leaves my heart aflutter.
To Jenn Accinelli for letting me use your photography skills to capture your stunning daughter, Brianna’s face for my cover. I mean it when I say I am humbled by both of you.
To Marty Keely for the beautiful drawing that you somehow accomplished in less time than it took me to fix a spreadsheet at work. Your talent is limitless. And your support has left me on Cloud 9.
To Kristy Haffey who won the opportunity to pre-read and simply said, “Don’t change anything.” And for the cutest hat I own.
To Caryn who looked at the very first draft of this and said, “No. Try harder.” So I did. And I hope you like the end results.
And to Sarah Elizabeth who birthed the heart behind this story by whispering into my ear that you should never chase and yearn for a friendship with someone that is fake and makes you feel lesser, “Because plastic hearts don’t beat.” Your success is imminent and I get to say I knew you when.
Lastly, I want to thank every person who has read anything that I have written over the past four years. To everyone that gives support in trying times, to my family when things go wrong, who rejoice in my successes, and the ones who truly believe that I am capable of writing something to read. I appreciate all of you.
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Table of Contents
Title
Copyright
Dedication
Summary
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
&nbs
p; Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Links
Table of Contents