Dear Tabitha (32 page)

She stills against my side. “I’m afraid to tell her when Marta dies. I don’t want to see her go through the same pain and agony that I felt when Trina died,” she whispers and places her head on my shoulder.

It feels so good to have her so close to me. I want to wrap myself around her and comfort her, never letting her go.

“This is different, Tabs. No one saw Trina’s death coming because it was so sudden. If Marta is as sick as you say she is, then that little girl in there already knows what’s coming. Trust me. She’s already figured it out. We just need to give her the skills to help her start dealing with this now. I barely remember when my mother died, but I knew it was coming. I felt it.” My advice surprises me because, even though I watched cancer take my mother, I never learned to cope with my father’s suicide. Maybe helping Sara cope with the loss of Marta will help me in some way, too.

She nods in agreement. “You know, when I made the decision to give up Emily, I went through so many emotions of self hatred and doubt. As much as I hoped, I never thought that I’d be in the position to actually be a mother again. I can’t believe that I’m being given this chance.” Her eyes light up with hope.

I want to talk about Emily with her. I’m dying to. But I can’t bring that up today. When she’s ready to tell me all about it, I’ll be here to listen. I have so many questions that I need answered to help me heal and to get past my own personal loss. I know the time will come for us to address what happened with Emily, but it’s not now.

I hug her against me and say, “You deserve this. All of this.”

She’s quiet. Then she asks, “What’s happening with us?”

Do I tell her how I’m feeling? Tell her that I still love her? I’m not sure either of us is ready for that yet, but I don’t want to waste any more time because we’ve been apart for so long.

“You asked me why I followed you out here. Well, it’s because I was terrified that I was going to lose you again,” I admit. “The thought of something happening to you made my world turn upside down. I’m in this with you, Tabs. I’m not going anywhere, ever again.” Is she ready to hear that? Will she believe me? Do I believe it?

She gasps, and looks up at me. “You’re in this with me? Do you even know what this is? Alex, I don’t even know what to expect next. But I do know that I need to learn how to be a mother. Why would you want to stick around for that?” She shakes her head. “I’m just so confused as to why you want to even be with
me
right now.”

For the first time in a long time, I’m not confused a bit. My heart breaks for what she’s gone through. Seeing her fall apart today at Tony’s grave makes me want to protect her from pain forever. She’s been through enough heartache to last a lifetime. I need to clue her in as to why I need to be with her.

“I love you,” I answer as I touch her cheek lightly. “I don’t know any other way to put it, but I can’t
stop
loving you. I want to share these moments with you and grow with you, Tabs. Please, let’s not waste any more time.” Her eyes glisten, and I lean in and softly place my lips on hers. She stills at first, and then slowly kisses me back. I feel her smile against my lips, and she pulls away slightly.

“Is this real?” she asks.

I playfully pinch her arm and she squeaks.

“You bet this is real,” I answer her.

“I’m convinced, I think. But we have so much to talk about.” She shakes her head. “There’s so much that you need to know about what happened with Emily. You’re going to need to find your own peace and acceptance of why I gave her up so that you and I can move forward. You know this, right?” she says, sounding worried that I’m going to change my mind.

“Yes, I know. And believe me, I think I already understand so much of why you did what you did. I’m just hoping …” I stop myself because I’m afraid to say what I’d like to happen.

“What are you hoping?” she asks me with a deep look of concern on her face.

“I’d like to meet them. I’m just hoping you can help make that happen.” I don’t know if this is selfish of me to ask this, but I feel like if I met Emily and her family, it might help me find the closure that I need.

“You want to meet them? The Finnegans?” she asks and I quickly nod my head in agreement.

“Okay, I’ll make it happen. As soon as we get home, I’ll email Carly and ask her.”

I’m suddenly worried that a call from Tabby will cause the Finnegans to worry about my intentions. “That would be great. But please let them know that I just want to meet them, and that I don’t have any ulterior motives.”

“Of course,” she says and grabs my hand. “I know that you have good reason for wanting to meet them, and I’m going to do everything I can to make it happen. I’m going to help you through this as best as I can.” She throws herself against my chest again and nuzzles into my neck.

“I never stopped loving you, Alex,” she whispers.

My chest clenches and I squeeze her tight against me, folding her into my side. “Say it again, please?” I beg her.

“I love you,” she says loud enough so I can hear her. “Thank you for still loving me after everything I’ve put you through.”

“I love you, too, Tabs.”

What matters is right here, right now. We’ll get over the past, in time.

We hold onto each other for what seems like hours. She eventually falls into a deep, exhausted sleep. I scoop her up and carry her into the room where Sara is, placing her in the other double bed. After tucking her in, I look over at Sara who is peacefully sleeping.

Her sweet innocent face looks so serene, and she seems to be smiling in her sleep. I hope that she’s dreaming about her mother and what a wonderful life she is about to begin.

Present

Age 24

Dear Tabitha,

(Dictated by Sara, Age 4)

Nona Marta told me all about you today. I can’t believe that I have a ‘real’ Mommy! Nona told me that I look just like you. I looked in the mirror at my face and I tried to picture what you look like today. But it’s hard to. Do you have a big smile? Nona says that I have the biggest and prettiest smile in the world.

I’m sad that I never met you before, but Nona says that I will meet you someday. I really hope it’s soon.

Nona wants me to tell you that I love Disney princesses! Especially Ariel. She’s my favorite.

Okay. Bye!

Sara

A picture of a four-year-old Sara, smiling and hugging an almost life sized Ariel doll, falls onto my lap. The same doll now stands in her room here in my apartment. I wipe the tears streaming down my cheeks and have no words to describe the feelings that I have right now. This letter is one of many in a large bundle that sits on my nightstand. The package arrived with all of Sara’s belongings, and when Kirsten gave it to me, she detailed the explicit instructions that came with it. I’m to open one letter at a time and not read them all in one sitting.

Marta had Sara write letters to me, starting when she was four years old. Apparently, that’s the age that Sara started asking questions about me, wanting to know more. Marta thought that this would be a way for Sara to connect with me, even though I wasn’t there. I’m completely overcome by my emotions as I think about all of the letters that I wrote to Sara when I was held prisoner by Tony.

I place the picture and letter on my bed next to me and burrow my face into my pillow. My sobs turn to wails as I realize the intentions of Marta’s act. She wants me to live through all of the special moments that I missed, all through Sara’s own words. Had she been planning to give her back to me all along? Was she just waiting for Tony to die to make that happen? She clearly put a lot of thought into this, and it shows me that she really did try to keep my memory alive with my daughter.

It truly astonishes me that, after all that Marta went through and put me through, she worked so hard at giving Sara this foundation. Marta was never my enemy in Portland, but she certainly wasn’t an ally. I can’t fault her for her shortcomings, honestly. I know exactly what it’s like to be abused. She lived through it for countless years at the hand of her husband. I don’t think she taught Tony to be the way that he was, but it’s obvious he learned by example. His father beat Marta into being the woman that she became. I begin to feel bad about the way that I treated her when I saw her, knowing that she might only have a few more days left on this earth.

I need to talk to her. I need to thank her. I need to tell her that I forgive her. These letters are proof that she meant well. She overcame her own abuse in a way, and Sara’s presence in her life seemed to have helped. This doesn’t excuse her behavior, but I can now almost understand why. The letters from Sara are proof that she intended for Sara to meet me someday. I don’t have to like her or everything that she did to me, but I respect what she attempted to do with Sara.

I wipe the snot running down my face, and pick up my phone to call her.

“Constantino residence,” a soft voice answers.

“Hi, it’s Tabitha Fletcher. Listen, I know Marta’s probably resting, but I really need to speak with her. Even if she’s not up to it, just please, put the phone next to her ear,” I beg the voice on the other end of the phone.

She’s silent for a few moments, and then says with a shaky voice, “I’m so sorry, Miss Fletcher, but Marta passed away this morning.”

Oh no! I thought she had more time. It’s only been a few days since we left. I’m suddenly feeling horrible guilt over how I left things with her, and now, I won’t have the opportunity to finish thanking her for this incredible gift that she just gave me.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Thank you.” I end the call, and pick up the smiling picture of Sara. Her face is so innocent and pure, and I don’t want that to come crashing down around her. I make the decision that I can’t tell her just yet. I need some time to process Marta’s death and decide how I’m going to tell Sara.

When we got home on Sunday, Kirsten practically jumped on me, anxious to tell me everything that happened while I was gone. After giving me the package with Marta’s instructions for the letters, she told me about the delivery of Sara’s belongings. Apparently, a large moving van showed up on Saturday followed by several cars and trucks. An entire decorating team descended on my tiny apartment, completely transforming my spare room into Sara’s new princess cottage. Pink exploded in her room, and apparently, Disney did, too. It’s a stunning masterpiece and her reaction to it was priceless. This may not feel like home to her yet, but these little things will certainly help her get there.

The decorating SWAT team placed a few other additions around my apartment. On my desk sits a brand new Mac desktop computer, along with two iPads and two MacBook Pros. According to Kirsten, Marta instructed them to make sure that Sara has the latest technology and gadgets to support her education.

And speaking of education, she will attend a private elementary school here, tuition paid in full. One of several trust funds due her when she comes of age will fund high school and college. My life suddenly feels small and meager when compared to the opulence that Sara is used to living with.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled I don’t have to scrimp for her future education, but I’d rather not have it already mapped out. I want her to live and experience new things that help drive her to make her own future choices. I don’t want to make them all for her. I’ll let the elementary school decision slide, because I really do like the school that Marta chose for her, but the rest of her life is going to have to take its own twists and turns.

In addition to my apartment, the SWAT team also went to the bookstore. They transformed a small portion into a children’s creative space for kids to hang out, read books, and create art.

I’m not sure how Kirsten feels about this, but I love it. I also think it will be good for business, but Kirsten rarely cares about the financial side of the store. She is so not profit focused, it’s unreal. Her love of books outweighs her desire to earn money. She’s been like this for as long as I’ve known her and I secretly wonder if she has a trust fund or something that helps pay her bills because the bookstore certainly doesn’t pull in enough to do that.