Chapter Twenty-Two
Fletcher cried, and I mean
sobbed,
when I handed him the letter I’d acquired from Gabe. I left him, Lashell, Gabe, and the rest of the lingering RI competitors to enjoy their morning in Desden with family and friends, and I headed straight home.
I was somewhere between Sugar Creek and Desden when the emptiness set in.
It was over. Everything that had started this whole process—everything that had brought Gabe and I together, pulled us apart, and brought us together again … it was gone. The program I’d worked for, the one that had introduced me to Haley and Amanda Goodwin, the very one that’d brought me close to people I would’ve never known without it, it had come to a close as quickly as it’d started.
Even back when I’d quit the program, I’d never felt like it was truly over, but now I felt it. Now the end was real.
And with every end, there comes a new beginning. A chapter of my life was over, and the next one was about to begin. Although I didn’t know where life was going to go, or what was going to happen, I knew one thing for sure: I would be going through it all without my sister at my side. That was the excruciating truth.
I skipped school on Monday morning.
There were very few people and circumstances I would break a rule for, but Bailey was definitely among the exceptions. I blew off my responsibility as a student for the day, woke up at the crack of dawn, and watched as my sister stuffed the final few things into her carry-on.
Neither of us said a word that morning as she packed. She made her bed before she left, smoothing out the last wrinkles near the foot of the mattress.
And then we left—Dad at the wheel, Bailey in the passenger’s seat, and me in the back. I kept staring at my sister. The whole, dark ride to Desden, I watched her. I kept praying that she would say something, that she would change her mind, back out, or tell us that she was only messing with us.
But she never said a word. No one did. The only words communicated for the entirety of that drive came from Gabe in the form of a text message.
Thinking of you this morning. Stay strong. I’m only a call away.
The drive from Sugar Creek to Desden felt like it was never going to end. And in a way, I prayed it never would. At the end of that drive, when we were parked and out of the car, that was it. She’d be gone. And I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. My tie with Bailey … it was one that I would never be okay breaking. But she had to go. A new chapter was about to begin for her, too, and it was the one she’d been waiting to live for her entire life.
“Hey, can I have a minute?” Mom asked me, standing outside of the security checkpoint. It was the first time I’d seen her since Thursday night, and she was there when we arrived, waiting for us to make our way in.
Bailey and Dad took Mom’s question as an opportunity to take some time for themselves, and they sidelined off to say their goodbyes. And I just stood there, staring at my mother.
“Amanda,” she said quietly, keeping her voice low, “are you ever going to forgive me?”
“I’m working on it,” I answered as honestly as I could because I owed her that much. She was trying, and I had to recognize that she deserved the best effort I could give her. It wasn’t what she was asking for, but it was the best I could give her for now. She understood that, as well as I understood that I had to keep trying. “I’d like to think that sometime down the road, maybe this will all be behind us. Today’s not that day, and it probably won’t be tomorrow either. It’s a lot to ask me to forget.”
“I’m not asking you to forget. I’m asking you to forgive.”
“Right.”
“I love you, sweetheart, and I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend more time with you on this trip. Maybe next time I’m in town—”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, and then I looked over to Dad and Bailey. They were wrapped in a hug, Bailey sobbing on Dad’s arm, and Dad crying into her hair. “What happens if you decide you were wrong?” I asked. “What happens if she gets on that plane, and things start to get hard, and you suddenly decide that having a daughter is too much work?”
“It’s going to be different this time,” she promised. “I’m going to do everything I can to make this right.”
“You have to,” I ordered, feeling tears in my eyes. “Because she needs you.” And then I found myself ready to say the words that I hadn’t been able to say in years, the words I feared saying out loud, because it was the most painful truth I’d ever known. “A person never stops needing her mother.”
I felt a tear stream down my face as I looked at her. The truth was simple: she was my mom, regardless of everything she’d ever done. Regardless of everything she’d continue to do, as long as we lived and breathed, we were always going to be a part of each other.
“You better take care of her. You better give her every tiny thing she demands because she deserves the world, and you owe her that.”
Mom nodded. “Stay in touch, okay?”
“I’ll be in touch with Bailey,” I said, looking to her again. She and Dad were no longer holding onto each other. He was wiping her tears away with his thumb, telling her how much he was going to miss her. “Have a safe flight.”
I started toward Dad and Bailey, wanting to get one last moment alone with my sister before she took off, and Mom called out my name again.
“
Mandy
.
” I turned back instantly at the sound of my name, my heart stopping for a beat. Mandy, not Amanda. “Even after everything, even after all the time and years, after everything that happened, I never stopped loving you.”
I nodded.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling another tear. “Me too, Mom.”
And that was enough. That’s all I had to say. Because even though the woman had hurt me, had scarred me for life, had ripped my heart out of my chest on more than one occasion, she was still my mother. She was still the woman who filled my memories of childhood with love and laughter. And in spite of all the awful things she’d done, she was still that person who tucked me into bed as a kid, read me stories, styled my hair ... she was the person who flew halfway across the country to ask for my forgiveness.
I loved her. Even though I hated her, I loved her.
“You guys have to get through security,” I said to Bailey, pulling her focus away from Dad. “You’re cutting it close.”
“Yeah,” she said, looking down to her bags. “Can we—”
“Yeah,” I nodded, and my sister and I took a moment to ourselves as Dad stood and waited alone.
He wouldn’t look at Mom. He wouldn’t even say goodbye because Dad was taking it a lot more personally than I was. He felt the attack. He’d put himself in a position where he was far enough away from Mom that she could never hurt him again. He’d protected himself. He’d guarded his heart. He’d never counted on her coming all the way here just to rip a huge chunk of it away again. And that’s what she was doing with Bailey. She was taking one of the only two things that man cared about, and she was putting thousands of miles between them.
“Dad says you guys will pack up the rest of my stuff and send it this week?” she asked, and I sensed she was only talking about her things because she couldn’t imagine talking about the real issue here: for the first time in our eighteen years, Bailey and I weren’t going to be together.
“Yeah,” I said. “Jones said he’d come by to help. He has some things he thinks you’ll want.”
“Don’t let him send anything I gave him,” she said. “I don’t want him to erase me.”
“He has every right to,” I said, but I was careful not to say it too harshly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out a letter. “And Gabe asked me to give this to you. He was going to come see you off this morning, but he didn’t want to get in the way of all the goodbyes. I don’t think it’s anything too serious. Just a goodbye and good luck.”
“Is he mad at me?”
“Well, his friend is leaving, and that’s never easy,” I said. “He’s a little hurt.”
“Okay.”
“Listen,” I said. “I could stand here all day and say things to make you feel guilty, but I won’t. I’m done. If this is what you want, then I want this for you. But Bailey, please don’t go there and change. Don’t forget about us. Don’t swear us off just because it’s inconvenient to stay in touch.”
“I would never—”
“Just don’t,” I said, feeling tears again. “And say hello to everyone for me. No one at school’s gonna know what hit them when you come storming back through those doors.”
“I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “You might’ve missed your chance at homecoming queen in Sugar Creek, but you’ve got a whole semester to make up for your lost time in LA. They’ll be crowning you prom queen by the spring, for sure.”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” she said, smiling, and then she looked down to the floor. “So, here comes the big question.”
“Okay?”
“You’ll send me an invite to the wedding, right? I can’t miss one of my best friends and my sister getting married.”
“Ha!” I smiled. “Yeah, you bet. At the rate we’re moving, we’ll be hitched by the time we’re fifty, so don’t think the invite’s lost in the mail.”
She smiled. “I love you, Mandy.”
“I love you, too,” I said, hugging her at once. And we stayed wrapped in that hug for what felt like hours.
“Girls,” Mom said. “We have to—”
“Yeah,” my sister and I said in unison.
Bailey hugged me again, and then she turned to hug Dad. And with one last goodbye, they made their way through security. Dad and I stood on the line, watching as they dropped their carry-ons onto the conveyor belt, each of them removing their shoes before they went through the electronic scanner.
And one by one they went in.
And one by one they came out.
And as they were about to walk away, head off for their terminal, Bailey turned back.
“Don’t forget us when you’re a big star,” I yelled, and she smiled.
“I love you,” she mouthed, waving to both of us. And then they walked away, turned the corner, and disappeared completely out of sight.
Dad’s arm fell across my shoulders, and I knew our lives would never be the same now that she was gone.
Epilogue
Ten months later …
“That’s the last of it,” Gabe said, tucking a large, cardboard box into the corner of my small dorm. “Are you sure all your stuff’s going to fit in here? You know you have a roommate coming later, right?”
“Yes, I know,” I said, turning in a circle and admiring the room. “But Georgia won’t need much space, and I only brought the necessities. Anything that won’t fit, I’ll keep at your place.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” he asked, scooping me into his arms.
“Mmm-hmm,” I said, pressing my lips to his, and with a simple grace of his mouth, Gabe sent my heart on a whirlwind adventure. Like he always did. Every time.
“You’re spoiled,” he said, pecking me on the lips again. “Now, your Dad’s down at the car, doing one last sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything. And he’s going to come up here pretending he’s sad that you’re leaving home, and that you’re striking out on your own, and
blah, blah, blah
, but note: he’s already asked me out for a celebratory dinner after we get you settled in.”
“Ah, he’s not celebrating,” I laughed. “He’s still trying to date you. He loves you.”
“Probably more than you do.”
“Doubtful,” I said, kissing him again. “Highly doubtful.”
There was a slight rap on the door, and Dad pushed his way in, his hand covering his eyes.
“All right, you two. Stop whatever you’re doing; Dad’s in the room,” he said, and then he dropped his hand. Gabe and I were still holding onto one another, his hands on my waist as he drew me closer. He kissed me again. “I said stop what you’re doing. Are you two deaf?”
Gabe loosened his hold and took a step back.
“Just making sure you got the hint, Daddio,” I said. “He’s mine.”
Dad rolled his eyes; we’d taken our little stabs at him plenty of times over the months, teasing him for his super-man-crush on Gabe. It would never get old.
“I’ll head out to the car,” Gabe said, pecking me on the cheek. “I’ll be home this evening if you need anything. Give me a call and I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks,” I said, nodding, and Gabe turned out the door.
Dad looked from the door to me and smiled. “Okay, so I just got off the phone with your sister. You want the news?”
“Hit me.”
“She’s starting her first day on set tomorrow.”
“Wow.” I still couldn’t believe it. Bailey hadn’t even been in LA for a year, and she’d already landed her first TV role. Just like Dad, she’d landed a role on a popular daytime TV show—
his
popular daytime TV show. My sister, the soap opera actress.
“Okay,” Dad said, pulling an envelope from his back pocket. “Your account is paid in full for the semester. Your student card is loaded up, so you should be covered for the bookstore and for food.” And then he handed me the envelope.
“What’s this?”
“I don’t know many writers who make it big while they’re still in college,” he said, shrugging a shoulder. “And since you put in your final hours at the bakery last week, I thought I’d help you out a little until you can find some work here on campus.”
“Dad, you don’t have to—”
“I do.”
“But you’re already doing too much,” I said. He was paying for my schooling, on a semester-to-semester agreement. I had to go full-time and pass all of my classes, or the deal was off. Plus, he was paying for meals and books. And now this? “I’ll pay you back.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tighter than I ever had.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without you, kiddo,” he said. “The house is going to be so quiet.”
“Well, it’s not like I won’t see you around campus,” I said. “I’m sure we can grab lunch between classes.”
Both my classes and his. A few months in the community theatre had turned itself into a good thing for Dad, after all. Just like he’d promised, the directing job turned into a chance for contacts and networking, and before he knew it, Dad was in Desden interviewing for a job to teach acting part-time on campus. If things went well for him this fall, there was always a chance that this job could turn into something more substantial and lasting. I’m certain that was exactly what he was hoping for.
“I think it’s kinda cool that we’re starting DU together,” I said. “But in case we’re both too busy to meet up during the week, then what do you say to getting together at home on Friday?”
“That soon?”
“I was thinking we’d make Fridays our night,” I said. “You come to me every other week, and I’ll come to you on the others. We’ll do dinner, a movie, something. Just us. Me and you.”
“What about Gabe?”
“What about him?” I said. “He lives like two miles down the road. I’ll see him all the time. And … he’s going to be leaving next week anyway. He has the RI program upstate, remember?”
“Right,” he said, nodding. “For how long?”
“Six weeks,” I said. “Seven at the most. He’ll be back at the end of October.”
“You going to be okay without him? That’s a long time to wait.”
“I waited six weeks before, didn’t I?” I asked. “Besides, Gabe and I have our own things going on. He’s focused on growing RI. I have school to keep me busy. Jones and the boys are staying on campus this year, and they’ve booked a lot of gigs. He gave me a venue list yesterday, so I plan to hit as many of their shows as possible. Plus, at the end of the day, I still have my novel to turn to.” He raised his brow, seeming impressed that I’d given so much thought to how I’d spend my downtime. “It’s almost done, my novel.”
“And I get first read?”
“Second,” I said, shrugging. “Sorry.”
“You’re giving Gabe first read, aren’t you?”
“Bailey. I’ve always promised her that.”
“I can deal with that.”
“But you get the dedication,” I said. “Because … well, I couldn’t do anything without you.”
He gave me a hug again, and then he headed for the door.
“I love you, Mandy,” he said. “You’re going to have the time of your life here.”
“That’s the plan,” I said, smiling. “I’ll see you Friday. Now go. Go enjoy your celebratory dinner with Gabe.”
“He told you?”
“Of course he told me,” I said. “He tells me everything.”
Dad shook his head and rolled his eyes. “See you Friday, if not sooner.”
And then he was out the door, and I turned to look at the stack of boxes piled nearby my loft bunk bed. I started to cut into the first box when there was another knock at the door.
“It’s me,” Gabe said, sticking his head back in. “I ran into your Dad on the way, and he’s waiting for me downstairs. I wanted to slip back real quick and tell you something.”
“Okay?”
“I’m proud of you,” he said. “You made it. You’re here.” I smiled again. “And I have something for you.”
“Okay?”
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his baseball cap—his worn, tattered hat—the one he was wearing the day we first met, the day I’d run him down with my car, and the very one he’d worn almost every day for a year since.
“You’re giving me that old thing?” I scrunched my nose. “Gabe … you shouldn’t. Really.”
He laughed. “It’s yours now.”
“Do I have to wear it?”
“Only when you miss me.”
“So always.”
I studied the hat for a minute, and then placed it on my head.
“How do I look?”
“Beautiful.”
“You know, I can’t help but wonder something here.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“This is your trademark cap. Everyone knows this is yours.”
“Yeah.”
“And if I wear it, people might start to think that maybe you’ve marked me. Are you marking me, Gabriel Raddick?”
“Is it so bad if I am?” he smiled, turning the cap around so that the bill faced the back of my head. He placed a kiss on my lips, gentle and sweet.
“Now listen,” I said, pointing a finger at him. “I will wear the hat. I will wear it when I’m thinking of you, when I’m missing you, and I’ll only ever take it off when I clean it … so, at least once a day.”
He laughed.
“But I’m not wearing it because people need to know,” I said. “I have no problem telling anyone that I am spoken for. I don’t need a hat to do that for me. I’m your girl. No jealousy. No insecurity. I’m yours.”
“And I’m yours.”
“We still have a week,” I said. “So let’s soak up every bit of those seven days that we can. And when you’re gone, it’ll go by so fast you won’t know what hit you. Then you’ll be back. And we’ll be together again.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, kissing me again.
“Never hurts to have a plan.”
And though I knew that the upcoming weeks would probably be some of the loneliest of my life, I was okay giving him that space. He was going off, going out there in the world, and doing exactly what it was that he’d always dreamed of doing.
Six weeks wouldn’t be so bad.
We would be okay—
better
than okay.
He’d come home to me, and I’d be there waiting for him. And I’d wait as long as I had to because, after all this time, I’d truly learned that Gabe
was
one worth waiting for.
###