The Truth

by Erica Lee

  I pulled out the paper that was apparently written for a Sociology 101 class. I had trouble focusing on the words as my eyes became even more blurry with tears. The person who has had the biggest influence on my life is my sister, Carly Foster. The two attributes I admire most are her strength and her happiness.

  I had to stop reading there. Since losing her, those were the two things I struggled with most. Was I letting her down now just as much as I had at the end of her life? I carried the paper over to the bed and placed it on top of the scrapbook, promising myself I would read it eventually. I continued to search her room, grabbing a few items along the way which included a stuffed animal I won for her out of a claw machine when we were little, a few pictures, and her favorite T-shirt.

  I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when my dad walked in carrying a box. “This will make it easier to carry everything.”

  I noticed the picture from earlier was lying at the bottom of the box and took it out, shaking my head. “I don’t want this.”

  My dad nodded as he grabbed the picture from me, then turned to leave. Only he didn’t move. He stood there frozen until his shoulders slouched and his body began to shake. He turned back around and placed his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

  It was my turn to freeze as I stood there staring at him breaking down in front of me. Then the words that I never thought I would hear my dad say were spoken into the room as muffled whimpers.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Oh God, I’m sorry.”

  I was about to sit down on the bed, feeling as though my legs were about to give out, but before I could, my dad pulled me into a tight embrace and continued to sob into my shoulder. I didn’t know what to do or say, so I awkwardly patted him on the back. After what felt like forever, I was finally able to pull myself away, and I sat down on the bed. My dad gained control of himself and sat down beside me, silence overtaking us once again.

  “I lied downstairs,” my dad said after a few minutes. “I didn’t find that picture on Callie’s desk. Your mother did. Apparently, she found it a few months ago, but she shared it with me during one of our last conversations. I remember her exact words. She said, ‘The family in this picture is gone. What was broken won’t ever be the same. But just like the picture, that which has been torn apart can still be fixed. It’s never going to be perfect. There will always be signs of the flaws, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be made better.’ At the time, I told her I understood, but I was just saying it to make her happy. I didn’t want to upset her when her days were numbered. But she kept insisting that I needed to make things better with you. She told me I needed to take advantage of the time she didn’t have.”

  He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes. “I blew off the idea, allowing myself to stay stubborn, the way I’ve been for years now. Cold and closed off. But this past month, I’ve been all alone and that gave me a lot of time to think. I thought about the day we brought you home from the hospital. I thought about the first time you met your baby sister. When you learned to ride a bike. The smile on your face every time you brought home a good report card. The way you used to kiss my cheek after you said your prayers. All of the things I allowed myself to forget.”

  Tears began to flood his cheeks again. “Then I remembered the way you looked at me as I shut the door in your face. How your shoulders would begin to slump as soon as I brought up your sexuality. The heartbreak that has been apparent on your face ever since you lost your sister. Your best friend. I allowed myself to become numb to all of that. And now that I finally see it, I’m disgusted with myself. I may not understand that part of you, but you didn’t deserve to be treated that way. I treated you as if you were a piece of trash, when you’re a living, breathing, human being. You’re my daughter, for God’s sake.”

  He took a few deep breaths, then placed a hand on my knee. “What I’m trying to say is that I know I’ll never be able to right the past, but I want to make things better in the future. I’m sorry. Could you ever forgive me?”

  There was a hopeful look in his tear-filled eyes as he stared over at me and awaited my answer. It wasn’t that simple though. I shook my head. “I-I can’t. I want to forgive you. I really do. But unlike you, I wasn’t numb. I remember every disapproving look. Every hurtful word. Every single time you pushed me away. I want to be able to move on, but I honestly don’t know how.”

  I stood from the bed and moved Callie’s items into the box, before lifting it and starting to walk out of the room.

  “Please stay.”

  The pleading tone to my dad’s voice almost caused me to change my mind, but I simply shook my head.

  “I can’t.” Before walking out of the room, I paused one more time. “I’ll call you though. I promise.”

  Once I was back at my apartment, I looked at my phone and the few text messages Samantha had sent me. Instead of answering, I lay on the couch and allowed myself to drift to sleep. I woke an hour later to the sound of my phone ringing. I wasn’t surprised to see it was Samantha, but instead of picking it up, I turned my phone off completely.

  I knew what I was doing. I was doing exactly what I promised I wouldn’t do. I was shutting her out. Apparently, my dad and I had more in common than I wanted to admit. Just like him, when I wanted to avoid my emotions, I would push them down and pretend they didn’t exist. Which is exactly what I wanted right now. I didn’t want to feel the sadness over looking through Callie’s things or the confusion over my dad’s confession or the guilt I felt for some reason for not being able to forgive him. I didn't want Samantha to comfort me and tell me it would be okay, because would it really?

  I knew I was wrong, but that didn’t stop me from walking to the bar a few blocks from my apartment. It didn’t stop me from guzzling down a few beers until I had a steady buzz going. I could feel my phone in my pocket, but instead of doing the right thing and turning it back on, I stared down at my empty mug. I had it right the first time. Samantha really was better off without me.

  My thoughts were interrupted by someone sliding onto the bar stool beside mine. “This seat taken?” she asked flirtatiously.

  I immediately recognized that voice and turned to look into Diana’s big dark eyes.

  Chapter 36: Samantha

  I paced the floor in my bedroom, staring at the clock that had just hit 8:00. It had been almost ten hours since Carly left my parents’ house and I had yet to hear from her. To make matters worse, as I went to call her again, the call went right to voicemail.

  “Damnit!” I said, throwing the phone onto my bed.

  Just then I heard a car door slam outside and looked out my window to see Carly getting out of a car I didn’t recognize. I hurried toward the front door and just as I made it to the bottom of the steps, Carly busted through the door.

  Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. Before I could say anything, she threw her arms around me, holding on for dear life, as if she thought she would somehow lose me if she let go.

  I placed one lone kiss on her forehead and unsuccessfully tried to pull away. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

  Carly sniffled. “I made a huge mistake. Today was a hard day. It was good… I guess, but still hard.”

  My heart was racing as she pulled me even closer.

  “I’ll tell you all about what happened later, if you let me. I know I should have called after I left. Instead, I went home and slept. Then I… I went to a bar. Again, I realize I should have called, but I resorted to my old ways. I told myself it would be easier to just pull away, avoid everything. I convinced myself it would make things easier on not just me, but also you. As I drank, I just kept reminding myself that you deserve so much better than me. You really do, Sam.”

  She took a break from rambling to take a few deep breaths. “Then, after a few beers and developing a pretty steady buzz, Diana showed up at the bar and ended up sitting down beside me.”

  I felt my body stiffen at the mention of Diana. Where was Carly going with thi
s? What the hell had happened at that bar?

  Carly pulled away and looked me in the eye, alarm showing on her face. “Oh my God, Samantha. It’s not what you’re thinking at all. I may be an idiot, but I’m not a complete moron. I would never in a million years even think about cheating on you.”

  My body relaxed a little and Carly pushed a piece of hair behind my ear, before leaning in and allowing her lips to briefly brush against mine. “She tried to use some crappy one-liner on me, and I told her to leave me alone. I let her know that I had nothing left to say to her.”

  I felt like my eyes might pop out of my head. With how distraught Carly was, those certainly weren’t the words I expected to come out of her mouth. “And what did she say?”

  Carly let out a strained laugh. “Nothing at all. She winked at me, then walked a few feet away and used the same line on some other girl. Within a few minutes, they were laughing and taking shots together. That’s when it hit me. This is what Diana does. She avoids her problems. Acts like they don’t exist rather than trying to solve them. Just like me.”

  She shook her head and stared down at the ground. “She could have a life filled with love and laughter, and instead she’s spending her Saturday night getting drunk in a bar with another random woman.”

  When she looked back up at me, tears filled her eyes. “I don’t want to be that person. I’m sorry I have the tendency to run. I’m so sorry, Sam. I meant it when I said you deserve better than me. You really do. You deserve someone whose first instinct is to turn to you. I want to be the person you deserve. I promise I’m working on it. I slipped up today. I shouldn’t have pulled away. I should have come to you, and I really hope I’m not too late.”

  She reached out and grabbed my hands. “Diana made her bed. Because of the decisions she made, she’s all alone. She doesn’t have that shoulder to cry on or that person to laugh with. But I do. I have someone to come home to, and I want to come home to you every day for the rest of my life. I know this is a weird time to ask this question. I promise I’m not drunk though. I only brought a rideshare here because I wanted to be safe. Sam, will you please move in with me?”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as I let her words wash over me. “Shit, Carly. You scared the crap out of me. You’re such an idiot. Did you really think that I was under the false impression that just because we were a couple now that things were going to be rainbows and butterflies all the time? We both have a lot of growing to do, and we’ll do it together. Of course I’ll move in with you. I can’t wait to pull you into our bedroom after you have a long day and force you to talk to me. I can’t wait to make you open up, when it’s the last thing you want to do. Pretty much, I can’t wait to fight with you. But more so, I can’t wait to fight for you, which is what I’m going to do every single day for the rest of our lives.”

  “No one’s ever fought for me before,” Carly responded meekly.

  I took her chin in my hand and forced her to look at me. “First of all, that’s not true. I’ve been fighting for you for the last twelve years, because whether you choose to believe it or not, you’re someone worth fighting for.”

  A wide smile finally formed on Carly’s face. “I love you, Samantha Phillips. I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

  I laughed lightly. “Good, because I wouldn’t let you if you tried.”

  ——1 year later——

  “How do we have so much stuff?” I grumbled as I carried another box into me and Carly’s new house. “We’re moving out of a tiny apartment. How did we fit all of this in there?”

  “You didn’t,” Molly said as she stepped up beside me holding a box of her own. “Mom and Dad packed up the stuff you left in your bedroom at their house. I’m pretty sure they’re planning to turn it into a nursery.”

  “A nursery? They need to chill out. I’m not even married yet.”

  Molly smirked at me. “That’s only three months away though. Then it’s baby-making time.”

  I motioned for her to be quiet. “Don’t say the B word. This has already been a big year for Carly and I—moving in together, buying a house, getting engaged, Carly starting her nonprofit. I’m sure the last thing Carly wants to think about right now is children.”

  I felt strong arms wrap around me from behind. “I’d be down to have a baby Phillips in the house.”

  “Really?” I asked as I turned around in Carly’s arms so I could face her.

  Carly shrugged. “Sure. Why not? It’s not like we don’t have enough space here.”

  I leaned in and kissed her only to have our moment interrupted by my parents coming into the house.

  “Pizza has arrived!” my dad shouted.

  With his announcement, Caroline and Gina joined us in the kitchen.

  “Thank you for the pizza, Mr. and Mrs. Philips,” Gina said as she grabbed a slice.

  My sister wrapped her arm around her girlfriend’s waist and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Thank you for helping today, baby.”

  Once we were all settled, Carly left the room and came back a minute later, holding another box. She opened it up and began throwing T-shirts at everyone. “I want all of you to wear these at the grand opening.”

  I looked down at the shirt I was holding that read Callie Foster Family Foundation. I felt tears coming to my eyes as I thought about everything Carly had achieved over the past year. What started out as her opening up on social media about losing her sister spiraled into a support group, which quickly turned into a nonprofit for friends and family of those lost to suicide or battling a mental illness. When a small building went on sale just a few doors down from Phillips Family Eyecare, it seemed like it was meant to be. What was even more shocking was when Carly’s dad offered to pay for it, giving her the ability to see her dream through—a center filled with multiple resources, a 24-hour support line, and even a few on-site counselors. Speaking of which…

  “And for our fearless lead counselor,” Carly said as she tossed a shirt to Caroline.

  Immersed in something on her phone, Caroline didn’t hear Carly, and the shirt ended up hitting her in the face.

  Carly put her hand over her mouth, trying and failing to suppress her giggle. “Texting your girlfriend?”

  Caroline rolled her eyes in response. “Stop. She’s not my girlfriend.” A mysterious twinkle appeared in her eyes. “At least, not yet.”

  I nudged her in the side. “Hold up. Has there been a new development in the Hailey Smith saga?”

  For the past year, Caroline and Hailey had grown much closer. Although they both knew there were feelings on both ends, they hadn’t taken it beyond friendship. I knew Caroline wanted more, but she was trying to be respectful of the fact that Hailey didn’t want to jump into something new right after her marriage ended.

  A blush surfaced on Caroline’s face. “Well, it just so happens that Hailey asked me to go out on a date next weekend. An honest-to-God date.”

  Carly clapped her hands together. “Well, hot damn. That’s amazing. She sure did make you wait long enough though, didn’t she?”

  Caroline rolled her eyes once again and pointed her thumb toward me. “Says the girl who made this saint over here wait a whole twelve years.”

  I watched as Carly stuck her tongue out and snuck a middle finger that my parents couldn’t see, and thought about how much she’d changed since we met over thirteen years ago. Heck, it was crazy to see just how much she had grown in the past year. She was still the same Carly I fell in love with, but she was also so much more. She was determined, hard-working, and had more passion in her pinky than most people have in their whole body.

  When her eyes drifted to mine, so many emotions washed over me.

  “She sure did, but I’d wait twelve more if I had to.” As I spoke those words, I knew there was no greater truth than that.

  About the Author

  Erica currently resides in Pennsylvania with her wife, dog, bunny, an
d chinchilla. She spends her days checking eyes and her nights snuggled up with her furry family.

  Connect with Me:

  Follow me on Twitter:

  http://twitter.com/EricaLeeAuthor

  Follow me on Instagram:

  http://instagram.com/EricaLeeAuthor

  Visit my website:

  http://astoldbyeri.wixsite.com/ericalee

  Email Me: EricaLeeAuthor@gmail.com