After adding a scoop of protein powder, blending, and pouring my milkshake into a cup, I lead her to the kitchen island, and we each sit on a stool. My eyes dart to the clock on the wall, and I sigh. We’re on borrowed time. Gracie goes home tomorrow, and we haven’t even talked about what happened between us. I know she came here for a reason—a reason I’ve been too scared to seek out. So, I’ve done what I can to delay the inevitable, and I can only hope it’s enough. I need to apologize for everything, so we can finally move forward—together.
“You know, Mae’s favorite milkshake flavor was strawberry. It might not be as much of a hot take as you think,” Gracie ribs.
“HowisMae, by the way? You know we still keep in touch from time to time, right?”
Gracie stiffens and blinks a few times, almost like she’s snapping herself out of something.
“Yeah,” she says absentmindedly. “Mae mentioned that on a few different occasions over the years, but I wasn’t quite ready to hear any details about your conversations. I’m glad you kept up your relationship with her, though. I know it meant a lot to Mae.”
Something isn’t right. I know that look. That look is herI’m about to tell you something that you’re not going to likelook. I saw it after I asked about her injured ankle when we were young. And I saw it right before she ended things with me.
“Gracie, you’re worrying me. Is Mae okay?”
“She’s actually, um, why I came. To New York, I mean. To see you and deliver a letter. It’s from her. She told me to come here. Basically forced my hand. You know how persuasive Mae is. Not that I didn’t want to come. I mean, I did want to come too, in a way, so that’s not what I meant,” she babbles, pulling a crumpled envelope from her pocket. “Sorry, this is coming out all wrong.”
“Slow down, Gracie girl. You can always take your time with me.” I hold up just three fingers, wiggling them near her face. “You remember what to do, hmm?”
Memories hit me like a live wire as she takes a shallow breath and blows warm air toward my hand. I smile softly and put down one finger.
“You can do better than that,” I coax softly. “Look, there’s two candles left.”
Gracie takes a deeper breath, leans toward me, and lets it out. Both of my other fingers go down. Before she can pull back, I reach out and tenderly caress her cheek. Moving my fingers slowly, slowly down her neck, I gently tug on the end of one curl, preventing myself from running my whole hand through it.
“Do you want me to read it now?” I ask gently.
“Sure. I mean, if you want.” She hands me the letter. “I’ll step into the other room to give you privacy.”
I nod and feel a cool breeze when she walks away. Sliding my finger underneath the envelope flap, I pull the letter out and start to read.
My Dearest Daniel,
I want to start by saying I love you like a son. You are and always have been my most precious boy.
If you’re reading this letter, it means two things:
1. My Honeybee made it to New York.
2. I’m with my husband and daughter now, enjoying life somewhere else.
Confused, I reread the beginning of the letter. Then, I read it again, looking for hidden meaning that’ll change my initial interpretation of her message. One more time, but it still says the same thing.
Mae isdead? My throat closes up as I swallow once, twice. Based on the emotional current running through my body, I assume that I’m crying, but I can’t feel a thing. I’m completely numb from the bottom of my heart up.
Before you wonder what happened, let me say that it was my final wish that I be the one to tell you. It was all very sudden, and at the same time not sudden at all. Your Gracie was instructed to bring this letter to you in the event I passed, and I’m proud of her for doing so after so much time apart.
I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. I ball my hands up, crinkling the edges of the letter slightly as I grapple with my emotions.
This next part is for you and you alone, so pay close attention (and don’t let her read this letter).
Mae is absolutely kidding herself if she thinks I have any sort of self-control around Gracie. If she wants to read the letter, she will.
Bee is a prisoner of her own mind when it comes to you, Daniel. She’s scared, not knowing for certain how you feel.
When I contacted Mae five years ago, feeling better after starting therapy, I wanted to reach out to Gracie, too. Once I realized she was at vet school in Indiana, I knew it wasn’t the right time. She wanted to succeed on her own, and I didn’t want to hold her back.
Knowing Gracie’s trapped by anxiety too…changes things for me. After we separated, I spent years reflecting on how she might be feeling without me. Angry, hurt, apathetic, maybe, but anxiety never crossed my mind. Could it be that the same thing has been holding both of us back all these years?
I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished professionally and what we’ve accomplished together. You’ve said I’ve given you more purpose over the past five years of working closely together, but you’ve enriched the last years of my life, too.
