Kindred Souls

by Ellie Wade

  She continues to make a fuss over the other contents in the box. There’s a bumper sticker with the name of the place we stayed at on Lake Michigan six months ago. There’s a key chain with a roller coaster, representing our first roller coaster ride at Cedar Point in Ohio. Many of the items, like the tie-dyed scrunchy that she holds now, I found in my old room when I was home for a week after my dad’s surgery.

  “It’s my favorite scrunchie ever. Where’d you find this? I haven’t seen it since I was twelve.”

  “Mom had a whole box of little things that she found of ours from around the house. It was in there, along with some of the other things. I found many of the memories in the box we made for our time capsule that we never buried, the one I kept under my bed. We kept adding things to it, but never ended up burying it. Remember? The college acceptance letters, a bunch of pictures, and your charm bracelet were in there.”

  “This is incredible. So many wonderful memories, Amos. What’s this?” She picks up the leather-bound book at the bottom of the box. There are hundreds of yellow sticky notes sticking out from all sides marking pages.

  “That is one of the journals I kept in high school, and each Post-it note is stuck to a page where I wrote about you.”

  She flips through the book in awe. “That’s like every page.”

  “Pretty much, yeah. Read the page with the pink sticky note.”

  She thumbs the pink piece of paper and opens the corresponding page.

  “Out loud,” I urge.

  She clears her throat and starts reading.

  Today is Alma’s birthday. She’s sixteen. I made her a picnic in the backyard with all of her favorite things, including enough candy to keep her content for a while. I burned her a CD of all of her favorite songs, and she loved it all. It was an incredible day and will probably be one of my most favorite days ever. She found two white and whispy dandelions in the backyard and gave one to each of us. She told me to close my eyes and think about my deepest desire in the whole world and to make that my wish. I didn’t have to think about it because I already knew. I wished for her. We both closed our eyes and blew the white seeds from the flower into the summer air, and I wished for her. Not now, and maybe not for a long time, but someday, I want to spend my whole life with her. She has a life to live and dreams to accomplish. We both do. But someday, she’ll be mine forever. I guess, for me, she already is, but when the time is right, I’ll ask her, so she’ll know. When that day comes, she’ll say yes because there aren’t two people more destined for each other than she and I. She was mine from the first moment I saw her, and I know that I’m hers, too.

  Mutt and Cookie Forever.

  Tears fall down Alma’s cheeks. “You wrote that when you were sixteen?”

  I nod and drop to my knee. Alma covers her mouth with her hands.

  I take in my soul mate—no makeup, hair in a messy bun, wearing elf jammies—and she’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

  I turn to Love and motion for her to stand beside me. “Yesterday, I spoke with Love and gave her a necklace.” Love holds up the silver Tiffany necklace with the dandelion charm hanging from it. “The necklace represents my promise to Love.” I look away from Alma and turn to her daughter. “I promised her that I would love and protect her always. I promised her that I would support her and be her number one fan forever. I told her that I know she has a daddy in heaven, but wanted to know if I could be her daddy on earth.” Alma sobs from the sofa. “And what did you say, Love Dove?”

  “Yes.” She nods excitedly and throws her arms around me. I hug her and kiss her cheek. “Then what did I ask you?” I say to Love.

  “If you could marry Mommy.”

  “And what did you say?”

  “Yes!” She giggles.

  I chuckle and squeeze Love tight before letting her go to face Alma once more. Pulling the diamond ring from my elf slipper, I hold it up before her. “Almalee Hannelda Weber Harding, will you please be my wife?”

  She gasps as tears course down her cheeks and nods. “Yes,” she sobs. “Yes!”

  She slides off the couch and wraps her arms around me and Love and cries. After a few minutes, she leans back, and her tear-soaked face smiles the biggest, most gorgeous smile I’ve seen. “I love you so much.”

  “I love you,” I say before crashing my lips to hers. The kiss isn’t nearly as long as I’d like, but with Love at our side, it’s long enough.

  “Put on your wing, Momma,” Love says.

  Alma holds out her hand, and I slide the ring onto her finger.

  It’s a perfect fit.

  I knew it would be.

  33

  Alma

  We lean over the countertop, staring into a mug. Inside the ceramic cup sits a chocolate sphere, an Andes mint cocoa bomb. Apparently, Quinn has tried them all, and the mint chocolate is the best.

  “You ready?” she says to Love.

  Love shakes her head and peers into the magical mug.

  Quinn slowly pours heated milk over the bomb until it opens and explodes with a heaping pile of cocoa powder and mini marshmallows.

  A round of oohs and ahhs and whoas sound out.

  “Isn’t that so cool?” Quinn ask.

  “Yes!” Love agrees.

  “Now you just stir it.” She inserts the spoon and mixes the drink before sliding it to Love. “And it’s perfect.”

  “Thank you!” Love exclaims as she brings the mug to her lips. “Yummy,” she says, her upper lip covered in chocolate.

  “That looks yummy.” I chuckle. “Thanks, Auntie Quinn.”

  Quinn shrugs. “Cocoa bombs are all the rage. There’s this lady by my parents’ house who makes them, and I swear my sisters are single-handedly paying this woman’s mortgage with their cocoa bomb orders.” She grins and taps the fancy gift box she brought with five other cocoa bombs inside. “I brought you the Reese’s cup, strawberry-white chocolate, birthday cake, another mint, and then a regular chocolate to try.”

  “You’re the best. Thank you,” I say.

  “Well, I have to run. I have other people to visit, but you enjoy your cocoa, Love bug.” She leans over the counter and gives Love a kiss on the head. “I love you, and Merry Christmas.”

  “I yuv you, Quinny,” Love says.

  Quinn gives me a big hug. “Merry Christmas. And once again, congrats on the engagement. I love you.”

  “Love you too, and thank you.”

  She hands out two more hugs and declarations of love to Lee-Anne and Amos before heading out.

  “We should dance,” Lee-Anne exclaims. “Luca introduced me to this incredible song. I had no idea Christmas music could be so fun.” She looks up at the ceiling as if addressing a higher power. “Alexa, play Trans-Siberian Orchestra, ‘Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24.’”

  The first few notes of the song begin to play over the speakers, and Lee-Anne takes Love’s hand and pulls her into the living room. Love giggles as her gigi spins her around in a circle.

  I take Amos’s hand. “You ready?”

  “For you, always,” he says as I lead him to the living room.

  The four of us dance and spin. We take hold of each other’s hands and twirl around together in a four-person circle. When the heavy drumming in the song plays overhead, Lee-Anne starts beating pretend air drums with a determined ferocity, and Love follows suit.

  Amos chuckles from beside me, his eyes on the world-class drummers.

  A bell chimes and I turn to Amos. “Was that part of the song or the doorbell?” I squint.

  “I think that may be the doorbell.”

  Love and Lee-Anne, unfazed by the chime, continue their routine as I open the door.

  “Merry Christmas!” Cat cheers, holding a tall stack of presents.

  Leo’s mother stands beside Cat with an equally tall tower of presents. “Merry Christmas, Alma. I hope it’s okay that I’m here.”

  “Of course, come in.” I step to the side as they enter.

  Amo
s takes the presents from them and places them in front of the Christmas tree as the two women watch Lee-Anne and Love with amusement.

  The song ends, and the room is suddenly quiet.

  “Love, look who’s here,” I say. My daughter gasps and runs into Cat’s arms.

  “Grandma Harding and I brought you some Christmas presents. Do you want to open them?” Cat asks, and Love nods wildly.

  “Can I get you something to drink? We have punch, water, champagne?” I ask.

  Both women request a glass of champagne. I retreat to the kitchen as Love squeals, opening her first gift. Lee-Anne follows me into the kitchen and fills herself a glass of water.

  “You know the more people there are to love your daughter, the better it is for her. There’s no such thing as too much love,” she notes.

  “I know.”

  “She loves her and wants to be in her life. That’s not a bad thing.”

  “I know,” I repeat, pulling the bottle of champagne out of the refrigerator.

  “But you’re still so mad. I can see it,” Lee-Anne says, taking a sip of her water.

  I set the bottle down. “Yes, I’m mad, Mom. No, I haven’t truly forgiven her.”

  “There’s room in your heart for forgiveness, mi amor. You forgave me for all I’ve done. Why can’t you forgive her?”

  Tears come to my eyes, and my lips tremble. I pull in a breath, willing myself not to cry and shake my head. “It’s different. You and her are not the same.”

  “Maybe not. Her history of wrong is different than mine, but we were both wrong. We both let our children down. We both failed in our role as mothers. We’d both take it back if we could. Wrong is wrong, mi amor. Forgiveness is a gift to yourself. Life is too short to hold hate in your heart.” She raises her hand to my cheek. “You know this.”

  I nod, wiping the errant tear that’s escaped from my cheek.

  Lee-Anne presses her lips together in a slight grin and leans in to kiss my cheek before joining the others in the living room.

  I quickly pour the champagne into the glass flutes. Blowing out a breath, I walk into the living room with a smile.

  Love gets way more presents than she needs, but she’s happy.

  We visit with Cat and Mrs. Harding for a while, and then they stand to leave. I walk them to the door, and Cat hugs me tight.

  “I’m so happy for you. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. Love you.”

  “Love you. Let’s get together soon, no?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Cat looks at Mrs. Harding, “I’ll meet you in the car.”

  “Thank you for allowing me to come over.” I open my mouth to speak, and Mrs. Harding raises her hand. “Please, let me finish,” she says with a sad smile. “I know you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. I failed my son. This is true. I wanted out, but I was afraid. I thought ‘who’s going to want me’?” Her eyes fill with tears. “I’m not strong like you, Alma. I’m weak, even now. I should leave him still, but I can’t. I don’t know who I am without him, and I’m afraid to be alone. It may sound silly, but it’s the truth. Yet I loved Leo. I truly loved him. I’m sure that doesn’t make sense to you, given what happened, but I loved him and miss him every day. My heart hurts that he’s not here, and the guilt that I’m to blame consumes me. I’ve carried that guilt for years, and I’ll never shed it. As long as I live, I’ll be drowning in regret. But Love.” She looks toward her granddaughter, who’s on the floor with Amos as he puts together her new dollhouse. “She’s a part of him. She’s so much like he was, and it’s more than just her appearance. I see Leo in her, and I want to do it right this time. I want to love her the way I should’ve loved him, the way in which you love her.”

  She quickly wipes a tear from her face and shakes her head. “I want to know her. Truly know her. She’ll never see my husband. I’ll never put her in harm’s way, but I want to see her more than on her birthday and Christmas. You don’t owe me this, of course, but I’m begging you to consider.”

  “Okay,” I say.

  Mrs. Harding’s eyes go wide in surprise. “Okay?”

  “Yes.” I swallow. “You can see her because you’re right. She carries him with her. I see him all the time. I’m working on forgiving you, and I hope that someday I’ll be able to say that I have. When I think about everything in Leo’s past, I get so mad because I don’t understand why you didn’t protect him. And you’re right—you’re nothing like me. I would die before I let anything happen to my daughter. My purpose on this earth is to protect her. You failed. You failed him, and you are partly to blame for why he’s not here.” I shake my head. “I may never understand your past or your reasons, but I understand what it means to love someone, and my daughter deserves to be loved and feel love from the people in her life. We’ll talk about the perimeters, the obvious one being that she will never see him, but yes—you can have a relationship with her. You’re her daddy’s mother, and she should know you.”

  “Thank you, Alma. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.” Tears of relief roll down her face.

  “You’re welcome.” She pulls me into a hug. “Merry Christmas,” I say with a forced smile that I hope seems genuine. “Thank you for coming over. Love is in heaven with all of her presents.”

  She takes hold of my hand. “I hope you take comfort in knowing that you’re the best thing to ever happen to him, the very best.” She sighs and leaves me with a small grin, a real one this time, before retreating from the house.

  “Everything okay?” Lee-Anne asks as I watch Cat back out of the drive.

  “It will be, Mom.” I lean my head against her shoulder.

  We watch as the car’s taillights disappear around the corner. I close the wooden entry door. “What a day, huh?”

  “Indeed but such a magical day. Who knew Christmas could be so great?” she says.

  “Well, not you and Vati.” I chuckle.

  She shakes her head. “Seriously. What were we thinking back then?”

  “That’s a conversation for another day.” I kid. “Are you going to see Luca?”

  Lee-Anne nods. “Yeah, he’s at his sister’s house now. I was just getting ready to head over there. I figure Love’s going to crash any minute now, and then you and Amos are gonna want to start celebrating your engagement.” She wiggles her brows.

  I smack her lightly on the arm. “No, Mom. We are not going there.”

  “You’re still not okay with talking about your sex life?” she questions in a serious tone.

  “Mother, I will never be okay talking about that with you.”

  She shrugs. “Someday you will.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “Oh, you’ll lighten up, mi amor. You’ll see.”

  I laugh. “Oh, Mom.”

  It was the longest and most fantastic day. I waited what seemed like an eternity to have Amos all to myself. Ever since this ring circled my finger, I’ve wanted to attach my body to Amos’s and only come up for air.

  However, Christmas was packed with fun, firsts, and family. We enjoyed delicious meals and made holiday-shaped sugar cookies. Amos wanted to show Love all of the classic Claymation Christmas movies, but I said I didn’t think she was there yet. Truthfully, I had a difficult time getting through them when I watched for the first time in college. So, we settled on A Charlie Brown Christmas, and then switched over to a couple of Disney Christmas cartoons.

  Our friends dropped by sporadically throughout the day, and we exchanged gifts and spent time together.

  And now finally—it’s just Amos and me, and this beautiful ring. I hold out my hand to admire it.

  “You like it?” he asks.

  “It’s perfect,” I say. “Everything about today was absolutely amazing. I can’t believe Love kept your secret.”

  “Me either,” he says with a chuckle. “That’s why I told her last night. I figured I’d have a good twelve hours until she spilled the beans. It helped that her mind was on
Santa and presents once morning came.”

  “True.”

  The fireplace is on, and the Christmas tree lights sparkle in front of the big picture window. It’s festive and romantic all at once. We lie naked and sated atop the fluffy area rug in front of the fireplace. Propped up on pillows, we stare into each other’s eyes.

  “I can’t believe we’re getting married.”

  “I can.” He smiles smugly. “When do you want to do it?”

  “Whenever. I would go to the courthouse tomorrow if you wanted.”

  “No. That wouldn’t make you happy. We need some kind of wedding, even if it’s something small. But I know you’re going to want Love to be part of it, wear a big poufy dress and throw some flowers.”

  “Oh, you’re so right. I need a wedding. She’s going to look like an angel. Spring maybe? When it’s warmer. Maybe on Lake Michigan?”

  “That could definitely work.” He presses his lips to mine. “For the record, I’d go to the courthouse tomorrow to marry you, too.”

  I run my finger across his lips. “I was able to read a couple of passages from your journal today. I can’t believe you wrote so many nice things about me.”

  “Can’t you?” He raises a brow.

  “I mean, yeah, of course I can. It’s just crazy that we’ve loved each other for so long and never tried getting together, even when we were teens.”

  He shrugs. “Like I said, you were too important to lose. It was never worth the risk.”

  “You’ll never lose me.”

  “I’m counting on it,” he says. Pulling my bottom lip through his teeth, he sucks it into his mouth. “Do you remember making a dandelion wish on your sixteenth birthday?”