“It’s Chester, darling. News travels fast. Which is why I wanted to be the first to tell you. Your father and I decided to separate. Well, he decided. I was forced to agree.”
“Mama,” I started, but she shook her head, giving me a sad smile.
“It’s okay. I’m okay. I owe you an apology, though. For the past summer, for the past forever years. I put too much pressure on you and your sister to be perfect, to be loyal to people who didn’t deserve your loyalty.”
“Is that how you feel about Dad?”
She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “I love that man. More than anything, I love him, and I tried to be everything I could for him. I wanted to be perfect so he could love me back. The truth is, he’d never be able to love me the way I love him, and that breaks my heart.”
“Oh, Mama…”
“I guess this is what I get for treating you the way I did. I guess this is my humble pie.”
“I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”
“For so long, I thought I was unworthy of love. I prayed on it each night, asking God to heal my broken pieces. To make my husband love me, but he couldn’t. And now, Samuel says he doesn’t want to be with me. That I deserve more. What does that even mean? More than what? All I know, all I’ve ever known was how to be his. To be the pastor’s wife. And now, he’s leaving me, and I’m…” She took a breath and closed her eyes. “I don’t know how to be alone.”
“You’re not alone, Mama. I got you.”
Her eyes stayed close, and her body began to shake. “I’ve been so hard on you.”
“Yeah, but I get the feeling you’ve been harder on yourself.”
When her eyes opened, I felt as if I saw myself staring back at me. “How did you do it?” she asked me. “How did you begin again after years of being someone else’s?”
“You take small breaths. Whenever you feel overwhelmed or heartbroken, just remember to take small breaths.”
“Small breaths…I can do that.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I just don’t know who I am anymore. Without Samuel, do I even exist?” she asked me.
How odd was that? Hearing my mother repeat all the same questions I’d asked myself. “You probably exist more in this moment than you ever have in all your life. You’ll be surprised by all the things you learn about your heart and how it beats. And if you need to get away, you can come stay with me for as long as necessary. I have a spare room.”
“You’d do that for me?” she questioned, her voice cracking as if my offer stunned her.
“Oh, Mama.” I pulled her into a hug and held on tight. “I’d do anything for you.”
She inhaled deeply and exhaled slow. “Small breaths,” she whispered.
“Yes,” I replied. “Just take small breaths.”
51
Jackson
As far as I knew, Dad had been able to stay away from the bottle. I was thankful for that, too. I never wanted to see him in that shape ever again. I’d never been so terrified in my life.
On Thursday afternoon, I walked over to the auto shop, and I felt a knot in my stomach as I looked up at Dad on a ladder as he hammered away at the Mike’s Auto Shop sign in front of the building.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I asked walking over to him.
“Closing shop,” he replied.
“What? What do you mean closing shop?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.” The sign dropped to the ground with one more hit, and then Dad started climbing down the ladder. “I sold the place,” he grumbled, walking into the shop, leaving me flabbergasted.
“Are you drunk? You can’t just give all this away,” I argued, following right behind him.
“Actually”—he shrugged—“it turns out I can. I sold the shop and the cabin along with all the land. Got a pretty penny for it, too.”
“Are you kidding me? That’s my home.”
“Yeah, well, now it’s not.”
“Who did you sell it to? I’ll get it back. It’s obvious you’re not in the right state of mind. You’ve been through a lot these past few weeks, and your mind just isn’t making sense.”
“Nah. For the first time ever, I’m thinking straight.”
“But—”
“What type of art?” he asked me, throwing me off completely.
“What?”
“What art style would you study? Where would you travel to see different techniques?”
“You need a nap.”
“I’ve been sleeping long enough. Now here.” He nodded me over to him, and I hesitated. “Come on, boy, I ain’t got all day. Get over here.”
He handed me a check with a huge amount written on it. “What is this?” I asked him.
“Your cut from the sale. Of course, you won’t see any real payoff until the paperwork goes through and all that bullshit, but that’s enough for you to live off of for a year or so.”
“What?”
“You’re free, Jackson,” he said, giving me a half smile. “Go find yourself.”
“Dad, you’re being ridiculous. I know exactly who is behind this, and I’ll get everything figured out. Don’t worry.”
Before he could reply, I was already on my way to Loretta Harris’s home. It was clear that she was the one behind the sale of the property. She was the only one ever pushing for land for that church of theirs. This situation had her name written all over it.
As I stood on her front porch, I took a deep breath as she answered the door.
“Jackson? What are you doing here?” she asked, confused.
“You really couldn’t help yourself, could you?” I barked, feeling my chest rise and fall.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Let’s not play stupid. The property, my dad’s shop,” I told her. She raised an eyebrow. “Him selling everything to you and the church.”
“What?” she said, flabbergasted. “I’m sorry, I have no clue what you’re talking about…”
“Stop with the games and pretending.”
“She’s not pretending,” Samuel stated, walking onto the porch from their household. “She had nothing to do with the deal. It was between Mike and me.”
“What?”
“He came to the church the other night and asked me if the offer that Loretta had given him still stood,” he explained.
“Why would he do that? Why would you allow him to do that?”
Samuel’s brows lowered, and he crossed his arms. “He came to me and told him he was tired of hating. He was sick of being angry, and as long as he stayed on that property, the hate would stay inside him. So he wanted it to be gone for good. Yet he wanted enough money to make sure you’d be okay without it. I understood, too. Wanting to let go of the past hurts. There was only one thing I requested of him if we made the deal.”
“And what was that?”
“Rehab.”
My chest tightened. “Rehab?”
“Yes. He’s going to spend some time at one of the best rehab clinics in America. He’ll receive the best treatment from the best doctors over the next few months. It’s going to be tough for him, but he agreed to it. Your uncle said he’d drive him to the clinic this Thursday.”
Rehab?
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s really going to go?”
“Yes.”
Without another word, I wrapped my arms around Samuel and held on tight.
All I’d ever wanted was for my father to get help. All I’d ever wanted was for him to find his way out of the darkness.
“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling overwhelmed. “Thank you.”
*
When Thursday came around, I stood outside the auto shop while Alex loaded Dad’s suitcases into the back of his car.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you, Dad?” I asked, uncertain about them heading off to the clinic without me.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” He gave me a frown and scratched his beard. “Look, can we not ma
ke a big fuss about this? I ain’t no good at goodbyes.”
“Well, let’s not say goodbye,” I told him, pulling him into a hug. “Just good night until tomorrow.”
He pulled back and placed a hand on my shoulder. “My boy.”
“My dad.”
“I’ll see you on the other side,” he told me, going to climb into the car.
“Wait, Dad! Here,” I said, hurrying over to him. I took off the band on my wrist and handed it to him.
“Powerful moments?” he asked me.
“To help you get through the hard days.”
He thanked me. “That Harris girl? You really care about her?”
“I do.”
“Then take my advice…give yourself time to find yourself and give her time to find herself. If it’s meant to be, you’ll find your way back.”
“And if it’s not meant to be?” I asked.
He lowered his brows and chuckled with a slight shrug to his shoulders. “Just don’t drink the whiskey.” He smiled—something I hadn’t seen him do in such a long time. “When the time comes, you let her in, all right?”
“Will do.”
We said our last good nights before tomorrow, and I watched as my father drove away to find his own self.
It turned out self-discovery was a process that everyone continued to explore. One never stopped growing therefore, they never truly stopped discovering.
*
“So he’s safe and sound?” Grace asked over the phone as I lay in bed Thursday night.
“Yeah. Alex sent me a message to let me know they arrived.”
“How do you feel?” she asked me.
I took a deep inhale. “Free.”
“I was thinking I could come down this weekend to see you, or you could come up here. Either way, I’d love to see you if I can.”
I cleared my throat and closed my eyes. “I’m falling in love with you, Gracelyn Mae,” I confessed, feeling my chest tighten from saying the words. “I’m falling in love with every part of you, but before I can give you all of me, I think I need to learn more about myself. About my wants, my needs, before I can be what you deserve.”
“What do you mean?”
“My dad gave me a check, and it’s enough for me to explore the country for a little bit of time. I can stop places and find out who I am, and what I believe in. I can start healing the broken parts of me.”
She went quiet for a moment, and I was terrified she’d be against the idea. That she wouldn’t want to wait for me to explore the world. That perhaps, our time was up.
“Okay,” she said.
I sat up a bit. “Okay?”
“I mean, I haven’t really been alone, not really. I think it could be good for the both of us to take a few months and truly discover the ins and outs of our hearts and minds. Then, once we truly come together, it will be because we are two whole individuals, not two broken ones leaning against one another to keep from falling.”
“Exactly. We’ll learn to walk alone, and then we’ll walk together.”
“Can you let me know where you are every now and then? Can you check in with me to let me know you’re safe?”
“Always and always,” I told her.
She released a small sigh. “Those words…who do you think created them first? Your mother or my father?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s one of those things, though. The origin of the saying doesn’t matter. All that matters is the meaning behind it.”
“I miss you already,” she confessed.
I fell in love with her some more.
“I miss you already,” I replied.
“Jackson?”
“Yes?”
“When you find you, come back to me.”
*
On the day I was leaving town, there was a knock on my front door. When I opened it, I saw a cage sitting on my porch with a ribbon on top of it along with a note.
Dear Jackson,
I know today marks the first day of your new adventures, and I wanted to send my love. Plus, how could one go on a road trip without a nice companion? This is Watson—Wats for short. He’s a three-year-old golden retriever who loves playing catch and riding in cars. He’s always wagging his tail, and he loves cuddles almost as much as I do.
I thought that even though you’re finding yourself, you shouldn’t ride in a car alone all the time. I don’t want you to think of this as a replacement to Tucker. Tucker was a good boy, and his love can never be replaced, but I think Watson can add a little more love your way. That’s the thing about love—there’s always room for more.
Here’s to new friendships and new beginnings.
-Gracelyn Mae
P.S. I’m falling in love with you, too.
I smiled at the note and read the words over and over again. I bent down and looked at the dog in the cage. He wagged his tail back and forth and stuck out his tongue.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, grinning. He was so handsome. When I opened the door on the cage, he leaped my way and began licking away at my face. “Whoa, slow down there, slugger.”
He kept licking, and I kept laughing. “Will you stop, stupid dog?” I joked, but he didn’t reply. That tail of his kept flying back and forth, and I finally surrendered to his love.
Good boy, Wats, I thought to myself, holding him closer. Good boy.
52
Grace
We gave each other space because we didn’t want to use one another as a crutch any longer. If we were going to be together, we’d first have to be whole on our own. I fell back into teaching, and when I wasn’t teaching, I was out and about trying new things.
For a while I thought I was the yoga type of girl until I got stuck in killer praying mantis for a good bit of time. I couldn’t paint or sketch at all. When late autumn came, Mama and I took a pole dance class. I wasn’t sure what was more disturbing—the fact that Mama loved it so much that she continued with the classes on her own, or the fact that she was ten times better than me.
Dad didn’t know what he was missing out on.
She laughed more, too.
I almost forgot how much I loved the sound of Mama’s laughter.
One late November night, I received a package in the mail with a novel and a Post-it note attached to it. My heart skipped as my fingers raced over the book cover, and then I read Jackson’s words.
I’m currently in Cave Creek, Arizona, watching the sunset with Watson.
The night before, I read this novel, and all I could do was think about you and what you’d think
of the words within the pages.
It’s a hard read, but worth it.
-Oscar
P.S. I learned I hate sushi.
* * *
I liked the ending but struggled with the middle. I cried, which isn’t surprising.
I still cry so easily.
Try this book.
It will break your heart.
-Princess
P.S. I hate sushi, too.
* * *
Alex sent me this read for Christmas.
If you read this book backward, it’s better.
-Oscar
* * *
I don’t know why I’m even sending this book, just skip to chapter five.
Chapter five is so good it makes up for all the other pages.
-Princess
* * *
Today I missed your heartbeats.
-Oscar
* * *
Today I missed your touch.
-Princess
* * *
It’s March 23rd.
Today I sat in California watching the sunrise, and I painted the sky.
You would love this place, Princess.
Or maybe I’d just love if you were here.
Tell me something I should know.
-Oscar
* * *
Something you should know?
That’s easy.
Today is April 4th, and I still love you. r />
-Princess
* * *
It’s May 3rd, and I still love you, too.
-Oscar
When late May came around, I was getting ready to finish yet another year of teaching. It was chilling how much had changed in the past year, how much I have grown, and how much I’ve learned about my heart and how it beat.
On Sunday morning, Mama always headed off to church. That was something she realized about herself—no matter if she was still with Dad or not, she held on to her faith. Sometimes I went with her, and other times, I stayed and prayed on my own.
Over the past year, I learned that faith wasn’t a building, yet it was a place in one’s heart.
I could go to a church and be surrounded by others and join them in prayer, or I could close my eyes in my own solitude and find peace. Both ways were worthy. Both ways were right.
There wasn’t one correct way to believe—there were a million possibilities out there.
That was one of my favorite discoveries. I didn’t have to be a perfect Christian in order to exist in the world.
When Mother’s Day came around, I went to church with Mama and sat in the pew holding her hand tight in mine. Throughout my life, there were a few hard days. Days where even when I tried to be happy, my heart still cracked, and Mother’s Day was one of those. For others, it stood as a celebration. For me, it spoke of loss and failure.
I’d somewhat come to terms with the fact I wouldn’t be one who had children. It wasn’t in my cards, and I’d learned to accept that.
But still, some days were harder than others.
Mother’s Day was one of them.
“That was a beautiful service,” Mama told me as we walked home from the church with our arms linked.
“It was.”
She smiled my way and tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just tired. Judy is driving in tonight for dinner, so I think I’ll just grab a nap before she gets here.”