All Your Firsts Without Me, page 18
I’ve left you and Westin a gift to remind you both where it all began.
Loving you has been a privilege, April. I’m one lucky man.
Love forever and a day,
David
P.S. Keep singing and I’ll always be able to find you.
After crying until the water grows cold, I pull myself out of the tub and dump the contents of the envelope in my hand.
Two leather bracelets drop into my palm, each with a tiny silver band with the coordinates to the place where it all began. I laugh because for once David was wrong. It actually began at the Humane Society, but the gift warms my heart, nonetheless.
I’m sad because that was my last letter, but strangely the heaviness isn’t there. It doesn’t hurt to breathe. David is at peace. This was his final goodbye.
I pick up my phone, and as I do, I realize how Westin has become my person. The person I want to share my news with. Good, bad, everything, I want to share everything with him.
Me: I read the last letter.
Westin: Why didn’t you wait until I was there? Are you okay? I’ll come home.
Me: I’m fine. It was a good letter.
Westin: You’re sure?
Me: I’m positive. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Westin: I love you.
Me: Love you too.
“Hey, girl. You want to go for a drive?” I place one of the bracelets on the dresser and strap the other around my wrist.
When we get in my car, I type the coordinates on the bracelet into my GPS. I’m expecting it to take us to the White Glass but that’s not what happens. It’s showing the location as being several hours away. I glance at Lucky. “I’ll be right back.” I go inside and grab the other bracelet.
Lucky’s tongue is wagging when I get back to the car. She is ready to get this show on the road.
“Hold on, girl.” I type the coordinates off the second bracelet. Same thing. The location is almost two hundred miles away. Rubbing Lucky’s head, I ask her, “You want to take a road trip?”
She licks my face. I giggle, pulling my seatbelt across my lap. “Let’s go see what kind of crazy goose chase David is leading us on.”
Lucky and I drive with the windows down and the music up. It’s such a beautiful day. We are getting close to our destination. I’m so confused because the letter said it would take us back to where it all began, and I’ve never been here before. We are on the outside edge of a small town, with white picket fences and kids playing basketball in their driveways.
But when I make the final turn, everything begins to feel familiar. It leads me down a dead-end gravel road with only two houses on it. They are spaced a good distance away from each other, a grove of trees separating them. My heart stops.
I sit across the road from the first house, staring at it. An old man hobbles out of the home that used to be mine.
I roll down my window. He offers me a kind smile that helps me to relax.
“Can I help you?” he asks, stopping a few feet away from my vehicle.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to trespass, I used to live here. I was just remising. I used to play out in the trees over there.” I point in the direction of the grove of trees.
His smile widens. “No worries, hun. You go ahead and explore all you want. Do you want to go inside?” he offers.
My eyes go back to my old home. The one we lived in before the compound. “No, thank you for the offer though. Would it be okay if my dog and I walk out amongst the trees for a little while?”
“You go right on ahead. I’ll be inside if you need anything.” He tips his ballcap and heads back inside.
“Now that’s small-town hospitality,” I tell Lucky as I hook her leash to her collar. I walk down the driveway, then turn to the right, heading past an old chicken shed to the tree line.
I push past the trees until I’m starring at the house my neighbors lived in. My heart slows as memories come flooding in. I lower myself to the ground just like I used to when I was little. Lucky doesn’t join me, she’s too busy sniffing nature.
Why did you bring me here?
A breeze blows a whisp of hair in my eyes. When I brush it away, I feel her cool fingers, whispering over my brow. My eyes fall closed.
“How did this bruise happen, sweetie,” Kathryn asks again. She holds my hair away from my face, not letting me hide from her.
“I f—fell off m-my bed,” I chatter, trying to stifle my tears. I don’t want to cry in front of her.
She sets the book and the Tupperware containing my peanut butter and jelly sandwich to the side.
We are sitting cross-legged in front of each other like we always do. Me on my side of the property and she on hers. Her golden retriever dances nervously behind her. My eyes keep going to the dog.
Kathryn leans forward, clasping her hands together.
“Sweetheart, is your dad hurting you?” she tries again.
I look behind me. “N-no,” I bite my lip, before turning back to her.
“You know you can tell me anything, April. I will help you.” She doesn’t press after that. Kathryn picks up the Tupperware, hands me the sandwich, then she begins to read.
I close my eyes as I chew. Her voice is like a warm blanket.
My father’s harsh yell halts her words. My eyes snap open. “I… I have to go,” I rush away in a whisper, dropping my sandwich to the ground and running through the trees before he spies me with her.
When I reach him, he grabs me by the arm, turning me to face him. His finger runs across my bottom lip. He brings it to his face, sniffing. “What’s this?” He glowers down at me.
I shrug my shoulders as his palm meets my cheek. My feet give out, but I don’t fall to the ground, his grip around my skinny bicep prevents it.
My eyes open.
That was the last time I saw her.
I often wonder if my father moved us because he knew about her. He never spoke of finding peanut butter on my lip that day. But somehow, I knew that had been the moment my father stopped trusting me.
Lucky finally decides to take a break and crawls up in my lap to take a nap.
It’s funny how I don’t look to my own home for memories. Those are best left behind me. This direction, the one I’m facing, is where my good childhood memories reside.
My gaze roams over her backyard. Kathryn used to sit on the patio and watch her husband and son toss a football back and forth. I had such a crush on him. He was in high school and probably didn’t even know I existed, but I loved to spy on him. He was tall like his dad and he had beautiful green eyes….
Green eyes… the color of sea glass. Only back then, I didn’t know what sea glass was.
My calm heart begins to race. I run my finger over the coordinates engraved in my bracelet.
Here’s a gift for you and Westin, to remind you where it all began.
This isn’t possible. I’m reading more into this than there is.
Lucky and I head back to the house. My mind struggling to figure this out. Why wouldn’t David just tell me if what I’m thinking is true? Why?
When I get back to the house, I search through all my old letters. Reading each one carefully. Especially the ones about Westin and me. My eyes scan the peanut butter and jelly sandwich letter and there it is…. it should have been my first clue…
The First Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich You Share
Oh April,
This may be the most important letter to date. If you are reading this then I know you have opened your heart to him.
It’s one of your happiest memories. You know, she’s the first person I’m going to look for when I get to heaven. The woman who gave my girl hope. The one who sat with her in the dark. The kindness she showed you, it’s what kept you going. Who would have thought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich could do so much for a person.
He said he was going to look for her in heaven. Why didn’t I notice that before?
Still, this doesn’t mean anything. How could this be possible?
I pull up the article I found about Westin’s accident on my phone.
The star-football player sadly lost both his parents in the accident. Kathryn and James Miller were pronounced dead at the scene.
I spend the rest of night scouring the internet in search of a picture of Westin’s mother. The sun comes up, but I still haven’t found the proof I’m looking for.
If my Kathryn is Westin’s mother, then what does that mean? Was this truly inevitable?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Westin
When I get back from my trip, I find April fast asleep on the couch with the letters from David scattered around her. She texted me yesterday saying she had read the last one. I offered to come home but she said she was fine. She doesn’t look fine. I should have come home early.
She wakes with a start. “Oh my gosh. We’re going to be late!”
I watch her rush into the bathroom. I busy myself playing with Lucky to avoid looking at the letters. I don’t want to intrude on their private messages.
“Go on ahead of me. I’ll meet you there.” She opens the door, the shower running behind her. “They will be disappointed if they think we aren’t going to show.”
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She tugs on the hem of her shirt. “I… I do have something I want to talk to you about, but it can wait until we’re done volunteering.”
“Yeah, okay,” I say calmly, but calm is not what I feel. My heart is beating fast, I think it might betray me and burst out of my body.
Something’s wrong.
She’s going to end things.
I just know it. My muse is leaving me.
She’s found me out. She knows I’m not the man David was. Why did I ever think I was good enough for her? She’s discovered I’m an imposter.
My mind runs rampant the entire drive to the nursing home.
April doesn’t come in while I’m singing. Maybe she’s waiting outside. Maybe she’s ghosting me.
As I’m finishing up, a nurse approaches me.
“April asked me to let you know that she is sitting with Fred.”
Relief rushes through my veins but then it’s replaced with a different sort of worry. “I noticed he didn’t join us today.”
The nurse drops her head, sniffling. “He took a turn overnight. He’s not doing very well.”
I place my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. Thank you for letting me know.”
She nods, wiping her eyes as she leaves the room.
Fred’s door is partially open. I pause when I hear April singing to him. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand wrapped in hers. His eyes are closed, an oxygen machine pulses quietly on the floor beside them.
He blinks at her, clearing his throat. “I thought you were an angel,” he says, his voice broken and hoarse.
She laughs, “That’s the first time I’ve been called an angel.”
His arthritic fingers shake as he reaches up to brush the hair away from her face. “Oh, now I don’t buy that.”
“It’s true.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” His eyes fall closed, his hand dropping back to the bed.
April doesn’t look like she has any intention of leaving, so I join her.
She gives me a sad smile as I sit down in the chair beside them. When I start singing quietly, she mouths a thank you.
We take turns holding his hands, sometimes we sing and sometimes we let the silence settle around us.
“Are you hungry?” I whisper. She shakes her head no, tightening her grip on the old man. It’s starting to get dark. We’ve been here all day.
Fred opens his eyes, staring towards the corner of the room. “Ruby, my dear,” he says, pointing at the wall.
April takes a deep breath, following his gaze.
“Do you see my wife?” he asks, not taking his eyes away from the apparition.
“She’s beautiful,” April replies, not missing a beat.
Fred turns his eyes to her, giving a little chuckle that ends in a coughing fit. He waves the glass of water away that April offers. Once he’s able to speak, he looks her in the eye. “Good things are coming your way, honey.”
He falls asleep after that.
I try to convince her to leave but she isn’t budging. “He doesn’t have anyone. I’m not leaving him.”
“Okay, baby. Okay. But you need to eat. Teresa and Jeff are going to drop off some fast food.”
She nods, standing to adjust his pillows and clean his mouth, just like the nurses showed her. April kept asking how she could help so they showed her a few little things she could do on her own to make him comfortable.
God, she’s amazing. The strength and grace she has is incredible.
Fred’s eyes open again. April leans over to talk to him but then she plops down on the bed, grabbing his hands in hers. She starts whispering feverishly. “It’s okay. It’s okay. She’s waiting. It’s okay to go to her.”
I’m confused as to what is going on, so I stand up, taking a step towards the bed, and then I notice something is wrong. My heartrate kicks up. “Should I get a nurse?” I run my hands through my hair, trying to control my urge to start yelling for help.
April keeps one hand wrapped around Fred’s, the other reaches out snagging mine. She squeezes it tightly. She quietly begins to sing Amazing Grace. Fred stares at her, gasping but otherwise calm. Her voice visibly soothes his soul, he wheezes a few more times before his eyes glaze over, lifeless. She lays her head on his chest while still holding my hand. April finishes the song, tears staining Fred’s gown.
When the song ends, she sits up, wiping her eyes. “Could you go get the nurse now?” she asks.
The staff are in tears. Mr. Fred Fredricks will definitely be missed.
Jeff and Teresa are waiting outside with our food when we exit the building. April waves when she spots them but then she loses her balance. I wrap my arm around her just as her eyes start to flutter closed.
It takes all my effort to keep her upright. Jeff rushes towards us and helps me lower her to the ground.
“April, April, hon.” He starts rubbing roughly on her chest.
No. No. This can’t be happening. “What’s wrong with her!” I yell, jumping to my feet. Teresa grabs me by the arm, to calm me.
April’s eyes blink open. She tries to sit up, but Jeff keeps his hand on the center of her chest. “Just rest a minute,” he tells her.
She’s embarrassed. “Did I faint?”
“You did. Have you eaten anything today?” he asks.
April laughs, rubbing her temple. “No. You were supposed to bring me food.”
He thumps her on the end of her nose. “Come on, smartass,” he teases, helping her to sit up.
I crouch down beside them, my fingers sifting through her hair.
“Why don’t we get her in the car and let her eat,” Jeff suggests. When we get her to her feet, however, she doubles over, getting sick.
Jeff shakes his head. “Second thought. Let’s take her to the ER.”
I give him a horrified look. He’s worried and he’s a doctor. Which means I should be worried.
“It’s just a precaution since she lost consciousness,” he tries to reassure me.
We follow Jeff and Teresa to the hospital. April still looks green. “I’m fine, Westin. I didn’t eat all day and that was… well, watching someone die is… hard. But I’m fine. Really. Quit worrying.”
A nurse takes April back in a wheelchair, Jeff following behind them.
Teresa sits down beside me. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” she says, looking about as confident as I feel. Which is not at all.
The minutes tick by at an increasingly slow pace.
“Westin,” Jeff calls from the door April disappeared behind.
I stand as he waves his hand for me to follow him. He offers Teresa a tight smile as he waits for me. Once I reach him, he leads me down a brightly lit hallway, talking to me over his shoulder, “The doctor found something. April’s asking for you to be with her.”
I stop dead in my tracks. Jeff keeps walking. She is sick.
I can’t live without her.
Suddenly, I get a tiny glimpse at how April must have felt losing David.
Jeff realizes I’m not following. “It’s okay, Westin. Follow me,” he urges me forward.
I need to be strong for her. Taking a deep breath, I follow him. When we get to April’s room, another doctor, a petite woman, waits for us. “Ready?” she asks.
Jeff nods, ushering me in front of him.
The door opens and I find April sitting on the table with a gown draped over her shoulders and a paper blanket across her legs. Her bottom lip quivers when she sees me. It’s then I realize Jeff and the other doctor didn’t follow me in.
I rush to her side. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it together.”
Tears stream down her face as she turns to the screen beside her. “The doctor found this,” she points to an image on the screen.
I stare at the monitor. Is it a tumor? What am I looking at?
“It’s our baby,” she says quietly, reading my mind.
Wait. What did she say?
My gaze slides to April’s. Golden eyes shine with nothing but love for me.
“But we’ve been using…”
She presses a finger over my lips, holding it there. “It happened before. The doctor said that what I thought was my period was more than likely spotting. I’m almost three months along.”
I lean forward and press my forehead to hers. “Are you okay with this?”
“Yes. A hundred times yes,” she whispers over my lips.
She’s happy. Really happy.
I love this woman so damn much. Wrapping my arms around her, I stare over her shoulder at our child. She pushes me away, wiping her eyes. “Go get them, hurry, and you can see the heartbeat.” April shoos me with her hands.
I pull the door open to find Jeff and the doctor both smiling. Jeff pulls me in for a hug, patting me on the back. “Congratulations, dad.”
