“Sweetie, I don’t have the answers. That shouldn’t be something I say to you, but we are wading these waters together. I can tell you this—my mom would want you dancing across that stage. She would want you to smile, not cry. She’d bake you the best cupcakes and scream the loudest. My mom . . . she’d be so damn proud of you. You’d have a banner in the middle of the state announcing your achievements.” He pauses to gain his composure. “Your grandmother is cheering for you, she’d be brushing your hair, shopping with your mother, fussing over your make-up. She’d have this house decorated fit for royalty because there is nobody more precious to your grandmother than you. Your grandmother may be physically in that room at the facility, but the best parts of her . . . the ones she instilled in you, will be embracing you as you receive your diploma, with a smile adorning your face and no tears. Embrace what she taught you, grow from what you learned, and understand nothing can take those memories from you. Pull them from your mind; feel them in your heart. Don’t let who she’s become be who she is to you. That’s not fair to you, and it sure as hell isn’t fair to her.” I fall into his arms, the emotions taking over. I can’t breathe, my vision blurry . . . it hurts. I feel just as lost as she is. Except I know the date, the players in my life, my past, and I’m gearing up for my future. She knows none of this, and at the same time, it isn’t just robbed from her.
It’s stolen from all of us.
“Come, your face is all blotchy, and your mother will kill us if we aren’t ready when she comes barreling in fifteen minutes late.” I laugh through my tears, I hold dear his words and allow them to filter through my mind and wrap around my heart.
Today I won’t dwell.
Today I will finish what I started…what we started. Thirteen years ago when Nana, Dad, and Mom, walked me into school and that marked the first day of my education.
Today I finish high school and embark on college. She was with me in the first steps, and I’ll carry her through these steps.
Today not only do I graduate; Nana does, too. She becomes the woman she was before her mind and spirit were marred by disease. From this point forward, I will remember those days. When she is lashing out, I’ll remember her smacking hands for reaching into her food while she was preparing it. When she is absent and void, I’ll remember her smile and remind myself how full of life she was. When she struggles, I won’t falter. I’ll remember enough for both of us. I will covet the good days and remember enough to ease the bad days.
I’ll honor her the way she deserves to be.
Will barely made it to his seat in time. I felt him as he entered the venue, and his eyes never strayed from me the entire time. I have a ton of shit to sort with my Honor Society achievements, my AP college credits, and it’s taking a lot longer than it should. He sent me a text that he was going to meet me at my house because my dad stayed back. I’m bummed I don’t get to ride with him, but if these people would hurry up, I’ll be in his arms before I know it.
I have all my documents in my hot little hand as I flee the room. I don’t slow down as I grab my dad’s hand and pull him to the car. “Where’s the fire?”
“Listen old man, I haven’t seen William in almost three months. He leaves in a week for camp, and I leave in two for summer courses. I’m taking Mom off your hands for a week while she ‘settles me in.’ I suggest you break the speed limit getting me home.” I’m not playing, and he better understand that.
He chuckles as he shifts into gear. I watch him with squinted eyes and frown as he does the speed limit. I growl, and he pats my fucking head. Like a fucking dog. I see our street and cars lined up. I don’t know who my mom invited, and I don’t care. He stops four houses down because we can’t get in our driveway. I climb from the car and stomp down the road. Music blares, people mingle, and I’m looking for one person. I spot him carrying bags of ice, and I sprint, my shoes abandoned on the road, one foot in front of the other. He turns, drops the ice and I watch as he flips his cap backward with one hand reaching for me with his other. Bringing his face to mine, his eyes twinkle, his dimple pops, and his lips take over. I exhale into his mouth. This is home. After this summer, our separations will be less, our time together more, and our foundation to our forever will be laid. I’m tired of sneaking off for stolen moments, rushed sex . . . there is no thrill for me in getting caught.
Chapter Twenty-Two
William
She was so gorgeous walking across that stage to get her diploma. The last two years feel like a distant memory as I think of the freedom in front of us. I watched her hair blow behind her, tousled by the wind as she sprinted towards me. Her clear blue eyes rake my body over, and the adoration graces her face as she has one goal in mind. Reach me, fuse our mouths together, and allow our hearts to beat in sync. It’s the same goal I have each time I see her. The partygoers come to a standstill watching us reunite, but I don’t care. They can have the show; I have the girl.
“You did it, baby.”
“I’m a college girl now.” Her smile could drop me to my knees.
“I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. Who are all these people?”
I laugh. “It’s your party. I don’t know.”
“Sadly, neither do I.” She sighs and looks at the people littering her yard. “You’d think my mom would have invited some people I know.”
“How you holding up?” Luke told me she had a meltdown missing Nana; I knew this day would be hard for her. It’s the first momentous occasion where she hasn’t been present.
“It was rough, but I’m doing better than I thought.”
“Want some good news?”
“I do.”
“Camp this year is cut by a week for returning players and starters. They want to whip the newbies in shape.”
She hops up and down clapping her hands. “You coming to my place? Mom should be gone by then.”
“That’s the plan. That gives us three weeks before either of us starts school. I know you still have summer courses, but you should be done after the first week I’m there.”
“I swear I’m going to lock the doors, turn off the lights, and pretend we aren’t there. We can hide in plain sight.”
“Clothing optional.” I wag my eyebrows at her.
“I’m not giving you the option to wear any.” She repeats my gesture and dissolves into a fit of giggles. I throw her over my shoulder and carry her into the house.
“Put me down.” She smacks my back and ass with each step I take. I head to the dining room where my parents set up their gift. Sliding her down my body, I kiss her forehead and spin her to face everyone.
Her small yelp followed by her hand slapping over her mouth makes me laugh. “This is gorgeous.” Dad and Pops are smiling, and Phoebe is laughing. Luke stares at me and shrugs his shoulders. He doesn’t understand her fascination with this photographer. The frame matches the other they got her, and this one is titled ‘Endless Dreams’. It’s close to an image of us . . . yet again. I’m just lucky I’m the boy getting to kiss the girl, just as in the picture. She rushes to them and hugs them both. “Thank you, this is going to be perfect in my workspace. Above the desk.” She looks to Phoebe who is nodding in agreement. “The other one is going above my bed.” Great, I get to look at that when I wake up with her.
“You’re welcome, precious.” They both embrace her back, wearing smug grins. They can lap up all the attention because I have them beat in the present department. I secured a day pass for Nana, and she and Emma, accompanied by an aide, will be getting an all day spa treatment. They assured me they’d be able to keep a calm and serene setting and will keep Nana in private as much as possible. She makes quick work back at the table opening cards and gifts. Some people have wandered in, watching and laughing at her reactions.
“All that money you can buy your own groceries for a year,” Luke quips.
“Wishful thinking, Dad. You’ll still have to feed me since Nana housed me.”
“Three meals
?” he jokes.
“Keep talking, and I’ll start eating five a day.” I wouldn’t complain. She’s still on the thin side.
“No ice cream.” She shoots him a look and rolls her eyes. Phoebe steps between them and hands her a gift.
“Open this last.” She places the box in Emma’s hands and steps back. I watch as her mouth pulls into a frown, and her hands glide over the wrapping, itching to rip into it.
I hand over my card, and she immediately tears into it. As she reads what it entails her focus grows intense, eyebrows furrowing; her eyes read and repeat. A small grin appears, and it grows bigger as she lets the reality slip in. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, the aide will be with you the whole time, and if at any time Nana needs to leave it can be arranged.”
“This is amazing.” Her steps bring her closer to me, and she leans into my body, inhaling my scent and wiping tears. “Thank you.” I feel like I can do anything in this moment. I created her happiness. I thought outside the box and made her wish come true.
“You’re welcome, Ems. I’d do anything for you.”
“I know. But this . . . this is so much more than you can imagine.” Her voice wavers on the last word, and she burrows back into me.
I hold her body tight as her shoulders rack with silent sobs. “I know I can’t change the past or predict the future. I don’t know if this will work, but giving you a day with her, reproducing a ritual you did after a big event, I had to try.”
Luke comes and pulls her into his arms, whispering words I can’t hear. He leads her to the couch, and I prepare myself for the pain I’m going to experience. This present will mean the world to her and cut her open at the same time. Each stab of pain she feels will shred me, like a thousand knives being stabbed into my body because I can’t absorb that for her. She gently tugs the paper, hesitating and resisting to open it. Lifting the top off the box, revealing a pale yellow album, her fingers caress the front cover—a photo of her, Nana, her Papa, Luke, Phoebe, Dad, Pop, and me in front of a ballet studio. She must have been four or so, a scowl prominent on her face. She hated those days.
Her hand pauses, hesitant to open the book. Luke grabs her hand, and they sit in silence with the rest of us watching.
“Your Nana started this when you were two. She wanted to give it to you on your graduation day. My mom wasn’t able to be here for mine, and she said she wished she had something like this for me.” Phoebe wipes the tears as she speaks. “I missed them so much that day and though you have me, she tried to be both grandmothers for you.”
My parents walk over and flank Phoebe, erecting a wall to try and block the pain and memories flooding them all. I don’t think a fortress could withstand this emotion tsunami brewing. Emma flips the page and stares at picture after picture. Some of her and Nana, some of her with others, and some with everybody present. It chronicles her life from birth until prom of my senior year. She turns the last page, which holds two pictures; one of her, Nana, and me with a caption, ‘I can’t be there for the wedding, but I was there for the practice run.’ I reach her and place my hand behind her head feeling her lean back into me, hoping I can soak all this in, take the pain from her. Her hand lays flat over that image, eyes closed, breaths panting, cheeks wet—the look of desolation. The last image is just Nana, sitting on Emma’s bed holding an envelope, staring at the camera in front of her with fear, love, confusion, and anguish all over her face. This photo caught all that Nana felt in that moment, writing her goodbye letter to Emma. That same envelope is all that remains in the album, and one Ems isn’t eager to open. Her hand is tucked under her leg, the other reaching for mine.
“She wrote that after her diagnosis. Before any symptoms were noticeable. Everything she thought she missed telling you, each word of wisdom she wanted you to remember, she put in that letter.” Luke takes it from the book and puts it in her lap.
“No.” Emma shakes her head, leaning her upper body back trying to escape.
This is supposed to be a day of celebration, not sadness. It’s a mixture of both for her and, if I know Nana, this will bring her joy and rip her to shreds. “Ems.” I grab her attention. “It’s okay.” I don’t know why I tell her it is, I have no clue what that fucking letter says, but if I know Nana she wouldn’t do anything to hinder Emma’s happiness today.
She places the book on the table in front of her, grabbing the letter from her legs and standing up. “I’m going outside.” She’ll head to our spot, but I’ll give her a few minutes, some time alone with her Nana.
After the door shuts we all busy ourselves removing the trash and avoiding one another. Wondering if she will implode, break down, or get the answers she wants to ask every day. I have a feeling it will be a combination of each.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Emma
My dearest Emma,
I’ll start this by saying I’m sorry. I can’t begin to know what I’m apologizing for because I know I’ll miss so much of your future and that terrifies me more than this disease does. From the time you were born, I knew you were special, my precious girl.
The day we put ballet slippers on your feet and watched you scrunch your button nose and poke that lip in a pout, I knew you were one of a kind. Not one to fit the mold, just like your grandmother Emily. I know you’ve heard stories of her, and I wish you could have met her. She would have loved you; our strong, fierce, independent, wild child. She would have encouraged you to buck the studio when it was her life, her passion. She would have laughed when you gave your mother fits over leotards and tights. She would have wanted you to find your own niche in the world. You were a gift none of us expected but all cherished. It pains me you didn’t know her, but I know she watches you and knows you. I tried to keep her memory alive for you, and if I failed I’m sorry for that.
You are such a mixture of all of us. The best parts of all of us were molded together to form a perfect creation; Emma Marie Nichols, our bundle of joy. The light in our darkness. It was hard work getting you here, and you’ve proven time and time again you were worth every struggle, every tear, every hope, and you’ve made all of our dreams come true.
That leads me to my first lesson. Love. Do it honestly, openly, and with your whole heart. At the end of the day, that’s what matters. If you aren’t with that person physically it won’t matter; just like it didn’t matter your Papa wasn’t here the last few years. His love, our love, filled my heart and soul, and I wouldn’t have found anything able to fulfill me the same, so there was no reason to look when he was taken from us. Love doesn’t end when one of you isn’t here. It’s everlasting. I have a feeling you know this. At a young age, you and William had the same connection I watched with your parents. Their love withstood the test of time and many hardships, just as I know you can with William. If I’m wrong, I encourage you to fall in love. You will compare your first love to all others, even though you shouldn’t. Your first love brings you a new experience, new feelings, and a sense of wonder. It can’t be duplicated, and it shouldn’t be your standard. All people are brought into our lives for a reason, don’t try to search the reason just take the lesson and move forward. Remember with love comes forgiveness. It’s a scary place to be, vulnerable and exposed, yet it is the most wonderful creation invented. The heart won’t lie to you.
Forgiveness is another lesson. Some say I forgive you, but I won’t forget what you did. That’s wrong. It’s forgive AND forget. You can’t forgive if you hold on to what you had to excuse. You’ll remember it and harbor resentment. There are few things that are unforgivable. You will know in your heart what they are. Remember two wrongs don’t make a right. Yes, an old saying you’ve heard many times, but if you don’t live by the meaning, it hardens your heart, and you, my precious girl, are too special to be jaded.
You stood by my side in the kitchen too many times to count just as I know you’ll stand by my side as this disease ravages my brain and my wish is you stop. Go live your life, remember me as I was
, not what I’ve become. I know you will mourn me, but please don’t. My body may be here, but my mind isn’t, and my heart is breaking for the struggle you’ve endured. I ask you to quit punishing yourself seeing me as I am.
I’m writing this to you not knowing what has become of me but guessing what it’s like now. If I’m not with you today, I know it’s progressed and robbed me of this occasion, and in turn robbed you of it, as well. I’m sorry for that. I remember your mom walking across that stage with such a void in her heart, and it hurts me knowing you’re going to experience the same thing. I wish it were my arms holding you telling you it will be okay, but it can’t be. I have some peace knowing it will be William, your parents, and your friends. Take solace where you can, borrow their strength when you need it, but promise me you won’t let what is happening to me ruin your life, postpone your dreams, or stop you in achieving your goals. That’s what I fought for every day for you.
I taught you to tap into that inner strength you exuded from day one. I didn’t want you to put one foot in the front of the other and walk to your destiny but to leap and run, jump and soar to your dreams. They are all achievable because you have the determination to make them happen. I believe in you and need you to believe in yourself.
Fear is another lesson. A healthy dose of it is good; a crippling shot of it isn’t what I want for you. The unknown is scary, but I want you to forge ahead and conquer that fear. No matter what it is, show it who is boss. Leave your footprint tattooed in each journey; they will become your roots. Place a piece of you in every endeavor; they will be your branches. Walk proud and create your own path.
Embracing Emma (Companion to Brisé) Page 16
