When Josh and Ben stepped outside to cut down a loose tree branch that had been worrying Kelsey, Melanie reached inside her carry-on bag and pulled out a beautifully wrapped rectangular present. “Just a little something to commemorate this special day,” she said as she handed it to Kelsey.
Inside was a gorgeous mahogany box with a silver-plated square on its lid. Engraved in the silver square was a miniature rendering of the Tree of Life, birds and all. The box’s interior was lined with a deep-blue velvet.
“I thought you could use it for special keepsakes,” Melanie explained. “Photos. Little notes and letters. Maybe all the important things you wish you could share with Mom if she were still alive. Or if the time portal were still open to our communication with her.”
“Oh, Mel,” she said, leaning forward for a hug. “I absolutely love it. And I know just where I’m going to keep it.”
Melanie’s old bedroom looked very different since the wall between the girls’ rooms had been torn down, but the tapestry was still hanging in its place of honor. Since Kelsey figured no harm could come to it now, she had had it professionally cleaned, and the wall hanging glowed with the brilliance of its original, freshly woven colors.
Melanie held the tapestry off to the side for her, and Kelsey unlocked the thin padlock she’d installed two months ago—unnecessary now, but it made her feel more secure about letting guests stay in the room. She hadn’t looked inside the closet since she’d padlocked it. However, as she tried to pull the door forward, it seemed to catch on something. She tugged on the door again and still felt a slight resistance.
“What’s that?” Melanie asked, pointing down. “Is something caught under the door?”
It was a faded wad of yellow paper. They goggled at each other. Kelsey stooped down to snatch it up. Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped it. She unfurled the paper and smoothed it out as best she could. Unlike all the other letters their mom had written, it was dated, and surprisingly, it was only a few days before her death. She and Melanie bent their heads together and began to read.
Dear Girls,
I can only pray that this letter will make its way into your hands one day. I can’t help believing that this shared time portal of ours will somehow find a means to reconnect us one final time. Ned and Lucinda were surprised to see me, but after I explained I was here to check their smoke detectors, they didn’t bat an eye. (I know—smoke detectors? What a terrible lie!) But it gave me a chance to drop off this note.
By now, you know that I have passed away, and I hope you aren’t missing me as much as I anticipate missing you. But what you don’t know is that I did take your advice about seeing a doctor. In fact, I went to the doctor a few weeks earlier than you recommended because even though I hadn’t felt the leg pain that you were worried about, I had been experiencing some headaches and nausea. So I went in.
Just as I’m sure you suspected, the ultrasound picked up a DVT in my left calf, and they wanted to put me on an anticoagulant medication. But that still didn’t explain what had caused my blood clot or where my headaches and nausea were coming from, so my doctor ran some more tests. She even wanted to get an MRI of my brain, which I thought was unnecessary, but as I found out, I was wrong.
The MRI revealed I had pretty advanced brain cancer. Apparently cancer makes you more susceptible to blood clots, which had caused my DVT.
I know I’ve had to ask your forgiveness a lot in these last two letters, but please indulge me one more time. Please try to understand why I flushed the Warfarin the doctor prescribed for me down the toilet. Please understand why I never let on to any of you that I had just found out I was so sick.
It was all because of love, you see. Not the destructive, foolhardy love of teenagers but the genuine, heart-bursting, I-would-sooner-die-than-cause-you-a-moment’s-pain-in-this-life-if-I-could-prevent-it love. But I know I can’t prevent it. Because I’m pretty sure your letter meant that my days are now numbered, and it’s only a matter of time until I cause you a great deal of pain.
One day, I hope your pain won’t be so intense. It gives me great solace to know you two have each other, even if you don’t quite know yet what a remarkable blessing that is.
Melanie, you are so thoughtful and sensitive, and you are always taking care of others. Don’t forget to let yourself be taken care of sometimes too.
And, Kelsey, you are so warm and huge hearted, and you have the gift of making everyone else feel like they’re the most special person in the room. Just don’t forget that you are more extraordinary than you know.
Be good to yourselves and each other. Find what brings you joy, and hold on to it with both hands. You girls brought me so much joy.
Love always,
Mom
It was several minutes before Kelsey could claw her way back up to the surface from under the oppressive waves of shock and sorrow. But when she did, she felt her sister beside her, kneeling on the floor—how did we get on the floor?—bracing her, even as Melanie braced herself against Kelsey.
Their mom was there too. Although she wouldn’t be coming back to them physically, as Kelsey had fervently prayed, she realized that her mom had never truly left them either. She was there in the words of her letter, in the worn wood floor beneath their knees, in the scarlet-breasted birds of the tapestry, and in the spring sunlight streaming through the window. She was in their hair follicles, deep in their blood, and rooted in their bones, and she always would be.
Acknowledgments
First and foremost, thank you to my readers, especially the ones who kept asking me, “When is your third book coming out?” in increasingly impatient tones. Your kind, persistent encouragement helped make this book possible, so thank you! You are some of my very favorite people.
Thank you to all of the talented folks who helped this book make its way into the world and into the hands of readers: my agent, Stephany Evans, and the wonderful team at Red Adept Publishing: Lynn McNamee, Jessica Anderegg, Susie Driver, and my fellow RAP author and mentor, Traci Borum. Your expertise all made Versions of Her a better novel. Thank you also to Streetlight Graphics for the gorgeous cover design.
To my dear friends and writers-in-arms who read early drafts of Versions of Her and gave me excellent constructive feedback—Rebecca Adams Wright, Kodi Scheer, and Kate Blakinger—thank you, thank you, thank you. You ladies rock as both writers and readers, and I honestly don’t know what I would do without your insightful comments and enthusiastic support.
A whole bucket of thanks to my family, who supports me in innumerable ways. Special thanks to my dad, who gave me some pointers with seventies slang and also helped me out in all things Victorian houses. Thanks to my older sister, Steph, who is not Melanie (or Kelsey, for that matter!) but without whom I would never have been able to write about the deep, complex love between sisters. And thanks so much to my mom, who is one of my biggest fans and has hand-sold my books to every single person she has met in a grocery store check-out line since my first novel, The Repeat Year, came out in 2013. I love you guys so much.
And last but certainly not least, thank you to my husband, Matt. Your contributions to Versions of Her were integral, and your patient brainstorming with me made this a stronger, more heartfelt book. In the midst of our busy, wonderfully chaotic lives, thank you for helping me carve out the time to bring this book to life. To paraphrase Melanie (it’s not cheating since I did write her, after all): I will love you for as many years as I have left on this earth. It would take me that long to love you as well and as deeply as you deserve.
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Did you love Versions of Her? Then you should read Ashes of Life by Erica Lucke Dean and Laura M. Kolar!
Mar
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All Maddie Barrett wanted was for her parents to get back together, but an icy road took that dream away. Afterward, Maddie is riddled with guilt that she can't share with anyone. Feeling angry and alone, she lays all the blame on Alex.
Alex and Maddie must find a way to move past their pain—shared, yet separate. Thrown together in an untenable arrangement, they fight through a frozen landscape of sorrow and redemption while redefining love, forgiveness, and family.
About the Author
Andrea Lochen dreamed of being an author since the third grade, but she didn’t realize creative writing was an “actual thing” until she stumbled on the program as a college freshman. After graduating from college, she earned her Master of Fine Arts in creative writing from the University of Michigan and later achieved her dream of becoming a published author.
Andrea teaches creative writing, encouraging young writers to learn the craft and pursue their own writing dreams. She lives in Wisconsin with her husband, two small children, and their adorably fluffy dog, Maddy. In her free time, she likes to bake cupcakes and cakes, see musicals and plays, and read as much as humanly possible.
Read more at Andrea Lochen’s site.
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