As soon as I wrap up with my client and clean my station, Logan walks up to me, holding a small box and an envelope. I smile . . . my letter.
“Happy Birthday, Chaos,” he says, giving it to me.
I stare at the envelope, my fingers tracing the familiar handwriting, which reads:
WHEN KELLY TURNS 26
I press the paper to my chest.
“Thank you.”
Then he hands me a small black box tied with ribbon around it. “And this is from me; wait until you get home to open it.”
My head cocks to the side with an easy smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to.”
Frankie’s voice cuts in. “Logan, your two o’clock is here.”
He gives me a small nod and heads toward the front.
I have another twenty minutes before my next client, so I quickly tuck the black gift box into my purse and take my letter into Logan’s office.
All the sounds of the shop are muffled when I close the door. I sit in his upholstered chair and delicately open the envelope, the one my fingers itch to tear into.
My lower lip quivers as soon as I unfold the paper to reveal the block of his handwriting.
New words.
As much as I love to see them, they’re a stark reminder of his absence, and that ink and paper is the closest I’ll ever be to him from now on. We’re one-way pen pals. His words are just an echo.
Hey kid?—
Happy birthday! Congratulations on your 26th trip around the sun. You better be celebrating and not wasting any time missing me today, because let me tell you, I’m doing fucking great!
I hope you know that I’m still so damn proud of you. I trust y’all are keeping the place afloat. Don’t be afraid to keep Logan in line, I have a feeling you’re the only one he’d let boss him around anyway. I’m guessing you’re wrapping up your apprenticeship. Wish I were there to see your work, I’m sure it’s stellar.
Twenty-six was one of the best years of my life, that’s when I married your mom. She says hi, by the way. I’m going to give you some relationship advice since I’m not there to tell it to your face. I’m not even sure if you’re dating, but if you are, whoeveryou’re with better be top notch. You’re Kelly fucking Everhart—never forget that. Your name carries weight, find someone strong enough to carry it. I’m sure you’ll meet a lot of great guys, but you only have one soul mate. When you’re young, it might be hard to tell the difference. And that’s my gift for you today: the difference.
First, don’t be expecting fireworks or rainbows or any of that bullshit. Your heart skipping a beat isn’t love, it’s cardiac arrhythmia. Second, you aren’t going to recognize them right away, because the funny thing about soul mates is that they look a lot like you. You’re going to be expecting some new face to waltz into your life and sweep you off your feet, but it doesn’t work like that. Soul mates grow together. When you look into their eyes, you’re going to see yourself. Got it?
Find a partner worthy of your heart. The one who reflects who you are. Someone who takes in the strays and observes beauty without taking a photograph. Who has art in their soul and fire in their veins the same way you do. Who inspires you to be the best version of yourself but treasures the worst of you just as much. Find your equal. Your second self. And someone who can raise hell just as much as you.
I’ll leave you with this. There are certain things that every human should experience before they leave the earth: sex, art, music, and most of all, love. And when you find your person, that’s the real deal, kid. That’s what life is all about. You’ll see.
Love you.
Dad
I look up at the ceiling, blinking, trying to contain the tears. I’m sure mascara is already smeared across my cheeks.
“I miss you, Dad. That was one hell of a birthday card . . . I really wish you were here for me to talk to. Things have been weird lately.”
Glancing back down at the note, I start at the top and read it again.
“I got you something,” Jason says, pulling out a long and skinny jewelry box covered in gray velvet. “Happy birthday.”
I smile and take the gift from him, opening it. It’s a beautiful necklace with a red ruby pendant.
