Kindred Souls

by Ellie Wade

  I pull Love from his arms and take her in mine. “Are you sure she’s okay? Should we have her checked out?”

  Amos rubs his palms against my arms. “She’s fine. I promise. I’m serious when I say it was nothing. My car is barely dinged.”

  “Why is there an ambulance?” I ask.

  “I think the driver of the other car might go in. She may have hit her head. They’re not sure.”

  I look over to where a woman leans against her car. She stares off into the distance and then stumbles to the side a bit.

  My eyes go wide as a fury unlike I’ve ever know envelops me. “Is she drunk?”

  “Yeah.” Amos sighs.

  I hand Love to Amos and storm toward the woman, ignoring Amos as he pleads for me to come back.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I scream, inches from the woman’s face. “You don’t drive drunk! You could kill someone! There are children and families on the road. You could’ve ruined my life! Could you live with yourself if you killed someone’s child? Do you even care? How could you be so selfish!” Rage rises with each word. She could’ve taken everything from me, yet she stands here unaffected. I hate her.

  Amos grabs my arm and pulls me back. “Come on, Alma. Let’s go home.”

  “Get a fucking Uber next time!” I screech as Amos pulls me away.

  “I hate her.” I cry into his chest. He hugs me with his free arm. Love sits in his other, and her little hand pats my head.

  “It’s okay, Momma.”

  “I know, baby, and I’m so glad. Mommy’s just scared. I’m sorry for yelling.” I swallow hard. “Let’s go home.”

  Our house is full of conversation and laughter as we enter. Leo and I started doing Friendsgiving dinners in college, and it’s something I’ve done ever since. I don’t cook often, but the few dishes I do well are Thanksgiving-themed. Getting together with our friends after everyone’s respective family meals has always been so fun.

  I left Lee-Anne with step-by-step instructions for meal preparation today, but even still, I have no idea what kinds of dishes to expect.

  “Happy Thanksgiving.” Quinn hugs me. “Thank goodness I brought like half of the dishes this year. Do you realize that your mom put some kind of Atlantic seaweed in the stuffing ‘to make it healthier’?” Quinn lifts her fingers in an air quote.

  “I figured she’d pull something like that.” I force a grin.

  “Are you okay?” she asks.

  “Yeah, I just need a minute.”

  I greet Ethan, Ollie, and Cat before heading up to my room and closing the door behind me. Covering my face with my hands, I allow the tears to explode, and my body shakes as the adrenaline and fear subside.

  The door to my room opens and closes, and in a moment, I’m wrapped in Amos’s embrace.

  He kisses my head and holds me tight. “It’s okay.”

  “I know,” I choke out. “I was just so scared. I can’t lose you. I can’t lose her. I wouldn’t survive that.”

  My therapist says that those who experience a tragic loss can suffer from PTSD and fear death for years. Existing in this bubble of debilitating fear, I believe her.

  “When you weren’t home, and the lights, and the ambulance,” I cry.

  “I know.” He rubs my back. “We’re okay. You’re not going to lose us.”

  Tilting my head up, I take his face between my palms. “I’m so in love with you, Amos Davis. I don’t ever want to live without you.”

  “You won’t.” The corner of his mouth tilts in a grin. “You’re stuck with me, forever.”

  “Promise?”

  “Always.”

  “You know what I’m most thankful for today, on this day of gratitude?” I say, rubbing my thumbs over the skin of his cheeks.

  “What’s that?”

  “You.” I kiss him gently. “Everything I am is because of you. Had we not moved in next to you when I was young, I don’t know where I’d be today. You’re so patient and kind. You’ve been my friend and my number one support always. You gave me strength when I felt weak. You gave me confidence when I felt lacking. You loved me when I felt unlovable. You’ve been there for me, always knowing exactly what I needed, through everything. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I do know that I can’t live this life without you.” I shake my head, new tears filling my eyes. “Not ever. Okay?”

  “Never.” His beautiful browns capture mine, and as he kisses me, I pray he holds on forever.

  We sit around in the living room, our bellies stuffed with food, most of it delicious. Amos leans back against the corner of the couch, his arms wrap around me as I sit on his lap. Love nuzzles against me, her eyes closing in sleep as she sits on mine. The three of us are mildly obsessed with each other, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

  A plate full of Lee-Anne’s seaweed and ginger cookies sits on a platter on the coffee table in the center of the seating area.

  “Never have I ever ridden on an elephant,” Quinn says and looks around the circle expectantly.

  “Oh, man,” Cat says, scrunching her nose. She reaches out and picks up a cookie, and plops it in her mouth. Her face scrunches up in disgust as she chews.

  We’re not drinking wine tonight as Ollie’s here. He would be fine if we drank, but I just don’t feel good about it. I love and respect Ollie so much. He was an incredible friend and mentor to Leo. He’s been clean for so long, and hopefully, he’ll be clean for the rest of his life. The least we can do is not chug alcohol in his presence. Besides, forcing people to eat Lee-Anne’s health cookies is so much more fun. My mother’s been on a real seaweed kick lately. It’s her new miracle health food of choice. I can only say that a seaweed-ginger patty tastes exactly like one would imagine—not good.

  “When did you ride an elephant?” Amos asks.

  “When I was eighteen. I went to India on holiday with my parents, and they paid for us to take rides at this one park. It was like a zoo.” She smiles, content. “Gosh, that seems like forever ago.” She swallows. “Okay, now that’s down.” She puckers her lips. “Never have I ever shoplifted.”

  Ollie groans and reaches for a seaweed crisp. “What can I say? You all know I used to be a little shit.”

  As he crunches down on his cookie, Lee-Anne takes one from the plate.

  “Mom.” I laugh.

  She shrugs. “I’ve had my moments of being a little shit, too.”

  My friends laugh.

  Ollie turns to my mom. “Do you want to ask the next question, or do you want me to?”

  “You go ahead.” She nods.

  “Okay, never have I ever eaten snails,” he says.

  “Lame,” Quinn teases.

  Ollie laughs. “I’m sorry. My crowd back in the day wasn’t about socializing before getting wasted. We just got wasted. I’m new to this scene. Anyway…snails?”

  Cat, Ethan, and Quinn, all sporting frowns, take a crisp.

  “It’s like the question doesn’t justify the punishment. You know?” Quinn says before turning to Lee-Anne. “I mean, no offense.” She motions toward the cookies.

  “Spring break cruise, escargot appetizer,” Ethan says by way of explanation. “I’ll go. Okay.” He extends his joined hands out in front of him, cracking his fingers. “Never have I ever danced…let’s say, tangoed with two men.”

  “Ethan.” I throw a pillow at him. “There’s a kid present.”

  “First, she’s sleeping, and second, I used code.” He smirks.

  “Well.” I quip. “There’s a mom present,” I say right as I turn to see Mom grabbing a cookie and plopping it in her mouth.

  The room explodes with cheering and laughter. I stare at Lee-Anne shaking my head.

  “What, Almalee? You knew that. I’m pretty sure you walked in on that a few times.”

  “Mother!” I groan. “Your granddaughter.” My eyes widen.

  Mom flicks her hand in the air. “She’s sleeping. Lighten up, mi amor.”

  Amos’s chest vibrate
s beneath me in a chuckle.

  “You better watch it, mister.” I throw a mock glare behind me.

  He kisses my cheek. “You have to admit, no one can ever claim that your mom’s no fun.”

  “That is true.”

  Ethan points toward Cat. “You guys, Cat’s eating a cookie,” he blurts out.

  “Oh, I’m not alone,” Mom adds with a sly grin.

  Cat shrugs. “Europe. After a show,” she offers. “I was young.”

  “Never have I ever graduated from high school,” Lee-Anne says to a round of grumbles. She knows that everyone in here besides her and Love have graduated from high school and therefore must eat a green pattie.

  Ethan snatches a seaweed cookie. “I thought you were cool, man.” He shoots a playful glare toward my mom.

  “Seriously, though. Not cool, Lee-Anne.” Quinn sighs, grabbing another cookie as she presses against her belly. “Is anyone else starting to feel ill?”

  “You all should thank me. Do you know how many vitamins and antioxidants you’re getting in these? They’re good for you,” Lee-Anne says.

  “You know what I miss?” Ethan looks around. “Remember the days when Friendsgiving ended with, you know, pumpkin pie or cake or any dessert really that wasn’t made from ocean weeds.”

  “There’s an apple cobbler, a chocolate pie, and a pumpkin pie cooled in the oven,” Amos says with a chuckle.

  “Fuck yeah.” Ethan stands, clapping his hands. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  “Whipped cream is in the fridge, and vanilla ice cream is in the freezer,” I add.

  “Game over.” He heads toward the kitchen. “I need to wash down all these vitamins with some sugar.”

  There’s a collective round of agreement as people stand and stretch.

  The doorbell rings, and we look around at each other.

  “Is anyone expecting someone?” I ask.

  Lee-Anne gets up and straightens her shirt. “I am, and he’s a little early.”

  My brain races as a broad smile finds my face. “Mom! Who is it?”

  She ignores my question and heads to the door.

  I turn to Amos and nod toward Love. “Babe, can you?”

  “Absolutely.” He takes Love from my arms as I slide off his lap.

  I follow Lee-Anne to the door to find Luca standing on the threshold. “I knew it! You know she’s been keeping you a secret?” I blurt out before second-guessing my enthusiasm. Maybe they’re just friends, or maybe he didn’t know that she’s been secretive.

  He quickly saves my nerves. “Yes, I know. She told me.”

  “Well, come in, Luca.” I stand back, welcoming him in. “Happy Thanksgiving.”

  I introduce Luca to everyone and leave him in the kitchen dishing up some cobbler. I pull my mom aside, retreating to the now vacant living area.

  “Mom. I’m so happy for you. You know I want nothing but joy for you, but Luca’s had a hard road with loss. Does he know…about…?” I struggle with how to phrase my question without hurting my mother.

  “Does he know that I was a horrible mother to you? Yes. Does he know that I’m a recovering addict? Yes. Does he know that I’m a little out there and free-spirited? Yes. I’m not trying to hurt him, Almalee. We’ve been talking, as friends, since August. I’ve told him everything. It’s not my intention to hurt or deceive him in any way. At first, it was nice just having a friend, someone besides you, Amos, and Love. It’s slowly turning into more, though, and that’s why I thought it was time to invite him over.”

  I take her hands in mine and squeeze. “Okay, that’s good. That’s great, Mom. I’m so happy for you.”

  Her face drains of color, and she looks panicked.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I haven’t told him about the more than one guy at a time thing. We haven’t gone into detail about that kind of stuff. You don’t think they’re going to tell him?”

  I chuckle. “No, Mom. They would never say anything. We may be a crazy group, but we have manners.”

  “Oh, okay.” She nods, relieved, and squeezes my arm. “I better get in there.”

  “Okay.”

  She retreats to the kitchen as Amos joins me, his arms free of a sleeping three-year-old.

  “She all set?” I ask.

  He nods. “She’s all tucked in and sound asleep.”

  I drape my arms around his neck, and he grabs my waist. “It’s been a long day,” I observe, thinking about the many ups and downs of the day.

  “It sure has. So, Luca, huh?”

  I press my lips together and bob my head. “Yeah, I guess so. Who would’ve thought?”

  “I’m happy for her,” Amos states.

  “Me too.”

  “He’d be a great addition to the family you’ve built here.”

  I listen to the laughter coming from the kitchen. “Yeah, he would. It’s a beautiful little family, don’t you think?”

  “The best.”

  32

  Amos

  My heart is full with nothing but gratitude. Every morning I wake up and can’t believe this is my life. It’s a storybook existence, really—the perfect picture. When I was young, I never voiced my desire to spend forever with Alma, not even to myself, until a lifetime with her wasn’t a choice.

  I thought I lost her forever, at least, in that way. Sitting here now…it’s surreal.

  She looks adorable in her bright green jammies that resemble a North Pole elf’s outfit, complete with a golden belt made of pajama fleece, a green-and-white-striped shirt, and slippers with a pointy tip. The Christmas pajama choices this year were rough, and Alma wasn’t a fan of any of them. We narrowed it down to this pair, a blue pair with Santa flying a jet, and a red pair with Mickey Mouse. Ultimately, the decision was left to Love, which is why we’re all dressed like elves around the Christmas tree.

  We’re all wearing the chosen jammies, and in all fairness, the ladies all look cute. There’s no doubt that I cringe every time I walk by a mirror but I’d wear a plastic bag if that’s what Alma wanted.

  Love opened her gifts from Santa, a pink Huffy bicycle complete with tassels dangling from the handlebars and a white wicker basket up front. She especially loved her stocking with all of its little treasures and candies. Alma and I had so much fun picking out goodies for Love’s stocking. She’s at the age where everything, no matter how small, is the greatest gift in existence. I love seeing the world through her eyes, and I hope she always sees her surroundings with wonder. In many ways, Alma still does. It’s one of the things I love about her. The other day, Alma was more excited about the aluminum foil swan that the server made for her leftovers than the ritzy dinner that preceded it.

  “Should we let Gigi open one?” she asks Love.

  “Yes!” Love cheers, grabbing a present wrapped in silver with sparkly green holly, which is the designated Gigi wrapping paper. All of our presents are wrapping specific. Alma thought this would be a good idea, so Love could hand out gifts even though she can’t read the names.

  Lee-Anne opens a book, and she gasps. “I love it.” She smiles.

  “It’s all the edible plants that grow in Michigan, where they can be found, and what their health properties are,” Alma says as Lee-Anne flips through the pages.

  “This is so thoughtful.” Lee-Anne opens her arms for a hug, inviting Alma and Love into her embrace.

  Alma’s parents weren’t big into holidays and rarely celebrated any of them. It’s fun watching Lee-Anne experience many aspects of life for the first time these past couple of years. She’s in awe of the person and mother Alma has become. Pride radiates from her every day, as it should. Alma is incredible.

  We go around the room, each of us opening a present, one at a time. We didn’t go overboard with gifts. Each person has a few meaningful presents—Love, of course, has a few more.

  Love rips the paper off her collection of Disney princess Barbie and screams, holding the box up in the air. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” she ch
ants, jumping up and down.

  “Do you love them?” Alma throws her head back in laughter.

  “I yuv them so much!” Love squeezes the box. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

  I laugh. “Which ones did you get, Lovie?”

  She sets the box on the floor and looks at the dolls. With her pointer finger, she begins naming them off, “Punzel, White, Belle, Jasmin, Rora, Ariel, Rella, and Tiana.”

  “Oh, Tiana is your favorite,” Gigi says.

  “Yep,” Alma says. “You have your past, current, and future favorite princesses. So you can play with them all whenever you want.”

  “Thank you.” Love hugs the box again. “I yuv them, Momma.”

  “I know you do, Love,” Alma says. “What a great Christmas morning. We are all so blessed and lucky. Aren’t we, Lovie? We have a great family.”

  Love nods at her mother’s words, though her focus is on the box. Her tongue peeks out of her mouth as she tries to open it.

  “Need help?” I ask.

  She jumps up and hands me the box, and I help her open it and pull out the dolls.

  “You know, Lovebug. We forgot that one present we got for your Mom, the secret present,” I say in a whisper.

  Love’s eyes go wide, and she drops the dolls and looks back and forth between Alma and me.

  “You want to help me go get it?”

  She nods and jumps up.

  “There’s one more present that I forgot to put under the tree. We’ll be right back,” I say to Alma and take Love’s hand.

  We hurry to the guest bedroom and pull the large wrapped box from the closet.

  “Remember what we practiced?”

  “Yes.” Her voice squeaks.

  “Are you excited?” I chuckle, clasping a silver necklace around her neck.

  “Yes!” She holds the charm of her necklace and smiles.

  “Okay, let’s go!”

  I hold the present, and Love follows me down the steps. I set the box at Alma’s feet.

  “Oh, it’s big.” She grins.

  “Open it!” Love bounces.

  Alma undoes the bow and pulls the silver top off. “Oh my goodness. It’s a treasure trove.” She starts pulling items from the box. I tried to incorporate two decades of memories into the box. Alma pulls out the bag of gummy sharks and other favorite candies from our past. There’s a framed picture from senior prom, and our college acceptance letters. I purchased four bags of gummy worms and removed all of the red and white ones, putting them in their own separate bag. “They’re all red and white.” Alma laughs. “You’re the best.”