“Mom…” Tears blur my vision before I finally blink and allow them an escape.
“I decided to sell because my only reason for staying here all these years was the fact that it made me feel closer to Frank. He’s gone and I have to accept that. I haven’t yet been able to pack up your room. When I found out what happened to you—when I was told of your death—I couldn’t go in there. Moving was a big decision and I was ready to let go of Frank, but I wasn’t ready to let go of you yet.”
Mom sniffs loudly again and wipes at her eyes. “I was already going through the process of selling when I found out you were… well, you know. I slowed everything down, but my grief counselor was supportive that I keep my plan moving. I was going to set up a room for you at my new place, move your things until I was ready to properly sort through them. Your unopened presents from your birthday are still in there. I haven’t touched a thing.”
My heart breaks for her. “I’m sorry you were told that I died and that you had to go through that.” As I begin to cry at seeing her tears, she quickly gets up and grabs another box of tissues.
“It’s okay, sweetie, everything is going to be okay now.” She sits next to me, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me tightly. I rest my head down on her shoulder and we sit like this for ages. When I try to lift my head up she tightens her arms around me. “You’re not leaving here again, are you?” she worries, looking into my eyes, fear clearly in her eyes.
“I was hoping I could stay here for a few days?”
“Of course you can. Maybe you can go through your presents? There’s an unopened one in there from Dana.”
My heart stops again hearing that. After reading through Frank’s letter, and the emotional rollercoaster I’ve just gone through telling Mom everything, I’m not sure if I’m ready to take another knife to my heart.
“I’m actually really tired. If it’s okay, I think I might like to sleep,” I admit.
“Of course, like I said, I haven’t moved anything from your room. Your bed is still in there, made and ready for you.”
“When do you need to be moved out by?” I again take in the bare surroundings. Everything in this room is gone except for the couch we’re on as well as a side table. In the kitchen, which I can see from here, there are boxes and bundles of newspapers ready to pack the glasses, pots and pans away.
“The end of the week. Tomorrow some movers are coming by to take the couch and move everything out of my room. The new owners pick the keys up on Sunday.”
“Wow, I can’t believe you’re selling.” I’m still shocked.
“I would have asked you, if I had known you were alive. I would have waited.” She looks worried.
“I know, it’s okay. I think moving is the right decision. I can help pack up my room tomorrow.”
She nods, smiling. “Have you called your friends yet? Charlie and Rose?”
“No, not yet.” I’m surprised she knows them. I did ask Charlie to check on her, but I’m sure he did that a couple months ago now. He must have made an impression, and Rose must have accompanied him.
“You should do that soon. They were so worried about you. Rose is a lovely girl, still calls me once a week to see how I’m doing. Charlie comes and sees me whenever he’s up here to visit Drew. He’s a real catch, sweetie.” Mom smiles at me and my jaw drops to the ground in shock. Rose calls Mom weekly? Charlie has seen Drew more than once?
“How often has Charlie come up here?”
Mom thinks about her answer. “At least once every two weeks since... well, since they thought you passed away. He helped me move some things this past weekend then he took Drew with him for the wedding this week. I think they had the bachelor party to go to. Rose is quite young to be getting married. She did invite me, but the house is going this weekend so I had to be here.”
“I didn’t realize they… I can’t believe he…” I’m too shocked to finish my sentence; too touched by what they have done for me.
“I know. You’ve got some really great friends there. After Dana died, I feared you wouldn’t want to let anyone else in. You shut down a lot when Frank passed, and it was Dana who kept you going. I was afraid that with her gone, you wouldn’t cope. It was why I believed you ran away. I’m glad to see that you did let people in. I’m so proud of what you did, Zoe. I love you very much.” Mom is crying by the end of her speech and so am I. We hug again and then she gets up, saying she’s going to have an early night, too.
It feels eerie to walk up the stairs towards my room. I trace the walls with my fingertips on either side of me and then stop at the top of the stairs to look over the framed pictures on the wall of me as a baby. Some have already been taken down, but I see several that include Frank and me, and I study the way he looks. There’s one where I am sitting on his lap; I’m six or seven, and he’s looking down at me with a grin while I look at the camera smiling brightly. In another he has me sitting on his shoulders and we’re both laughing at something.
I hate knowing he faked his death and put all these memories in question for me, but I also can see how happy we were. I know he wasn’t faking his love for us. It’s better to remember him this way instead of spending my life analyzing every moment we had together. The letter he left me is closure. It’s all I need.
I walk passed the photos and turn towards my room. My door is closed and my hand sits on the door handle while I psych myself up to open it. I close my eyes and quickly swing it open before I can change my mind. When I open my eyes, it’s too dark to see much. Very anticlimactic. So I flip the switch and watch my room light up before my eyes. I don’t know where to look. There is a pile of presents at the foot of my bed, but I don’t give them much thought. I look at my bed, which I’ve missed as much as this house. I quickly move over to it and sit down.
I allow my eyes to roam the rest of my room from this position. I look at the many photos of Dana I have pinned around my room. I haven’t seen her face in a long time. I reach out and take the framed picture of us from the side drawer by my bed. This one was taken when we were twelve at Dana’s birthday. We’re both wearing party hats and our faces are painted. Hers to look like a cat and mine is supposed to be a tiger; we’re laughing. I trace my finger over the glass where her smile is then stand and take a close look at every photo I have of her in my room, soaking in the memories each evokes inside me.
Once I have looked over them all, I pull out my photo album and slowly gaze over it. Most of the photos I have are copies Dana or her mom, Donna, gave me. After Frank passed away, Mom was never one for taking photos and so I never overly cared, either. Now I wish I had taken thousands of photos of her. I wish every time we saw each other I had a photo to go with it.
After I’ve looked though my album twice, I put it down beside me. I’m now sitting on the floor with my back leaning against my bed. I close my eyes and think about all the memories I have in this room with Dana. I surround myself in them and cry. I’m overwhelmed by my memories and also by being home. Seeing a room that looks familiar to me and not just the empty rooms I’ve been in this past year. I can see my open closet and all the clothing hanging up; clothes that I have a history with. Everything about this room is me.
My eyes again drift to the presents on the floor and I slowly drag myself over to the pile. I’m stunned by the amount that is here. I see on top is the package I addressed to myself that holds future Drew’s ashes. Mom did get it. It’s unopened. I pick it up and already know what I want to do with it. I sit it next to me and glance at the rest of the presents. I have no idea which one is from Dana, so I reluctantly pick up the one that is closest to me. The card says it’s from one of the guys from work. I have no interest in opening up the no doubt generic gifts from people who don’t truly know me, therefore I move to the next one. I find Dana’s gift halfway through the pile and rip the card off the present. I recognize her writing immediately and my heart races, opening the envelope.
The card has two elderly ladies on the front dr
essed in old fashioned bathing suits on a sandy beach. They are smiling and holding hands as a sunset lights them both in the background and above them are the words “A friendship like ours lasts forever”.
My vision blurs, but I blink away the tears and open the card.
To My Dearest Zoe,
Happy Birthday, Zee! You made it to the big 2-1! You’ll be able to drink legally now. I can’t wait to join the 2-1 club with you and I vote we celebrate in style. I love you so much and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. You’re not only my best friend, but my sister. Your friendship means everything to me.
So drink up and let’s party!
Love, Dana xoxox
My hands are shaking now as I put the card down and look at the present. It mostly feels soft, but there is something solid in there. We don’t usually spend money on each other for gifts so I’m curious as to what is in here.
I feel the gift again and finally tear it open.
My breath catches when I pull out a beautiful blue shirt that feels like it’s made of silk. It’s fitted and a baby blue color that I instantly love. I glance at it more closely because I almost think I’ve seen it before. I look at the small pattern on the bottom left side, and know I haven’t, yet it feels familiar.
I shrug, eager to know what else Dana got me. I place the shirt carefully down next to me. The second part of my present is wrapped in plain paper and she has a handwritten note on it.
Zee, I was going to give this to you for Christmas, but I thought it might be more fun to give it to you now and have you finish it with your own memories. I look forward to seeing this again and laughing over it with you. Love you.
I carefully unwrap this, curious to see what it is. I don’t want to rip the paper or Dana’s words so I am slow to open it. When I do, I find a thick book about the size of a photo album. On the front is a photo of Dana and me taken shortly after we had just met. It’s just a close up of our heads and we’re both pulling faces at the camera. Dana has her hands on either side of her head and her fingers spread out, giving herself antlers while she crosses her eyes. I am using my fingers to hook either side of my mouth downwards and I’ve got my tongue poked out. Overall, we look ridiculous, but I find the photo hilarious and can’t help laughing at us. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve laughed and my laughing leads to crying.
Dana has stuck stickers and glitter around the photo. When I open up the first page there is a letter.
This is the story of Zee and Dee. They met when they were just six-years-old and knew instantly that they were soul mates. These are collections of short stories over the years that show the love they have for each other and the amazing adventures they have been on. So sit back and enjoy the ride.
I turn to the next page and there is another photo of us. This time we’re dressed up in formal dresses, standing in Dana’s lounge room. This was taken before prom. On the opposite page to where the photo is, there is Dana’s handwriting again.
Zee and Dee, April 19th before Prom
Zee decides it’ll be easy to straighten Dee’s hair before Prom. Zee sets up the hair straightener and manages to burn half of Dee’s hair off. This began the short hair phase for Dee, which lasted for two years. Even with half her hair singed and smelling awful, Zee manages to pull off making Dee’s remaining hair look good and it only takes two solid days leaving the bathroom door open for the smell to leave. Prom ends up being the best fun ever.
I laugh again remembering the panic when Dana’s hair caught fire and me throwing her into the still full bathtub to put the small fire out. Luckily, Dana hadn’t been wearing her dress for the night, otherwise it would have been soaked. I ended up having to cut the ends that looked ratted from being burned off and several people commented on that daring look, saying it suited her. Dana had been very good about it and shrugged it off straight away when I first showed her how it was. People were right, though, her confidence could pull off any look. I did manage to straighten her remaining hair without further fires and we refrained from mentioning it to our mom’s exactly how this new look actually had come about.
I turn the page and find a new story, however there is no photo attached to this one. I skim ahead to find many more photos and what feels like at least a hundred stories. There is easily another hundred pages empty at the back for me to fill in.
My heart swells and I hug the book to my chest. Dana has given me the best present I could ever hope for. I wish she could still be here so I could thank her. I stay awake for hours reading and studying every page. I fall asleep sitting on the floor, the book open on my lap.
I open my eyes, entering a fake dream where I watch myself crawling into a tent, Charlie already inside.
“Are they asleep?”
“Yeah, it’s so cute, they’re cuddling each other in their sleeping bag. Rose and I took about fifty photos each.” She holds up a camera to Charlie and then places it on top of a bag at the end of the tent.
“That kid is cute right up until he is old enough to try anything on my daughter, then I can kill him.”
“Shut up, Leo is a sweet boy and… do you really think something like that could happen?” Her eyes light up now and he rolls his eyes at her enthusiasm.
“We are never coming back to L.A again, not until she is thirty.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but we have boys in Houston, too, you know.”
“I do know, which is why I think we should lock her up in the house, just in case.”
“That’ll go over well. I think I’ll let you be the one to tell her that.”
“She’s six, she won’t care.”
“She will when she’s a teenager.”
“This is why we should have had a boy. We wouldn’t have to worry about this.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but you must have put a tick in the wrong box when you did your order.” She rolls her eyes this time and takes off her coat, revealing a short nightie underneath.
“How about we try for another one and see if we can get a boy this time?” His eyebrows waggle at his suggestion.
“No way, unless you’re volunteering your body for the pregnancy?” She crosses her arms over her chest, sitting down next to him.
“Okay, how about I think about that and in the meantime we practice making one?”
She smiles at his antics and tries to appear like she’s thinking about it.
“I guess we could do that.” She leans in close to him and their lips touch for only moments before a voice disrupts them.
“Mommy? Daddy?” She quickly leans back, reaches out and pulls on the zipper, opening the tent up. A small girl stands there, shaking outside. Fake me reaches out and pulls her into the tent.
It’s strange to see the small girl, my fake child, so close. She has my dark hair and eyes, but everything else about her face reminds me of Charlie. She’s dressed in flannel pajamas that have cartoons all over them. I get the feeling she is going to have Charlie’s height. When I was six I looked like I was still four.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“I had a bad dream.”
Fear washes over Charlie’s face and even fake me looks worried.
“What happened in this dream? Tell me everything.”
The girl shakes her head and some tears fall down her face.
“Please, honey, tell Daddy what happened?” Charlie picks her up and sits her down in his lap, wrapping his arms around her sides.
“Leo and I were getting married—”
“I’ll kill him,” Charlie growls and fake me places a hand on his shoulder to dissuade him from moving.
“What scared you about the dream?”
“We had this big grown up party and it looked like so much fun, and then the monster hiding under my bed came out and he tried to hurt me and I was so scared.” The girl starts crying again.
“Was I there? Because I always scare that monster away and I just know I would be there to make sure nothing happened to you.”
Charlie turns her around in his arms so she is facing him and wipes away her tears. I see them both visually relax that her dream seems like just a regular one.
“I don’t remember.” She hiccups, trying to control her crying.
“Of course Daddy was there. He would have to walk you down the aisle on your wedding day.” Fake me rubs small circles along her back, comforting her.
“Yeah,and you don’t want to marry Leo anyway, he’s not—”
“Charlie,” she threatens, cutting him off and glaring at him.
“He’s not old enough,” he finishes off, looking away from her glare.
“Can I sleep in here tonight?”
“Of course you can, sweetie,” fake me obliges straight away. I watch them settle her in between them both and fake me leans over to the side to turn down the lamp so that the glow is only faint.
“Night, Mommy and Daddy.”
“Goodnight, honey.” Charlie leans over and kisses the girl on her forehead.
“Goodnight, Dana,” fake me whispers, letting her head rest on my shoulder.
I wake up feeling sore from my sleeping position and overwhelmed from the dream I just had. It’s a fake dream, just like all my other ones except in this one I called my daughter Dana. Have my other fake dreams when I spoke of Dana been about a possible daughter? Is this why I never saw Dana in them? Could any of them be real? I always assumed they were fake because I never normally see myself separate, and because Dana appeared to be alive in them. Maybe the Dana that I spoke of is the daughter Charlie and I have?
Taken By Choice (Taken Trilogy Book 3) Page 33
