“Oh, thank God,” the woman said, with relief in her voice.
After that, everything blurred into a whirlwind, from the ride to the hospital, the battery of tests and X-rays, to finally being picked up by her parents, who were in a total panic when they arrived. Despite her parent’s worries, she had only suffered a minor concussion and was told it was nothing short of a miracle that she had survived the frigid water. The whole event was still so foggy in her mind, only bits and pieces coming to the surface. She didn’t recall crashing into the lake or swimming out of the frigid water to the shoreline, but she did vividly remember the face of the man she had seen after being knocked out.
At first, when she awoke in the snow, she thought he had been real, but now she wasn’t sure. No one else had seen him. Had he just merely been a result of hitting her head? Or was he something more, a guardian angel perhaps?
The following day, when her car was pulled from the frozen lake, all the windows were intact, and the doors were mysteriously still shut. She had left the bakery at 8:30 that night and hadn’t been discovered until after 10:20. No one could figure out how she had gotten out of the vehicle or how she had managed to survive the freezing temperatures once she had.
While her mother insisted it must have been a miracle, Nora was beginning to think something different. The more she thought about this stranger, the more his face seemed like a memory, someone she had met before, a long time ago. None of it made any sense, but whoever he was, he had played a role in getting her out of the car. She hadn’t shared this detail or the fact she heard her grandmother’s voice with anyone, not even her parents, but she was certain they both had played a role in saving her life that night.
Her parents had insisted she stay with them for the next forty-eight hours while she recovered from the concussion. She had tried to resist at first, but her father had quickly told her that there would be no point arguing with her mother about this, so she gave in and stayed.
As she lay on her old twin mattress in her childhood bedroom, staring up at the familiar ceiling, her grandmother’s words echoed in her mind. “Nora, my sweet dove, go.” However, those words held a different meaning to her now. Having come so close to losing her life, she realized how much she had put off actually living it. The thought left her with a panicked feeling, and she grabbed her notebook and pen off the nightstand. Channeling her emotions, she began to write down the beginning of a poem, but her head ached so bad that she barely got two words on paper before giving up.
Setting the notebook aside, she grabbed the pill container off her nightstand, popped two ibuprofen in her mouth, and chased them down with a sip of water. Just as she was setting her glass down, her phone buzzed. Eve had messaged, asking if she was okay and wanting to know if she needed anything.
I’m fine. Just a bump on the head. No need to come over. My parents are waiting on me like a queen lol. Rain check on the pizza party?
Nora hit Send and then laid back on the bed. She could have called Eve to come over and keep her company; she was bored out of her mind just sitting around her old room. But she wasn’t in the mood to be cheered up or treated like some invalid. So, she just lay there, looking around the room until her eyes settled on her old closet, still filled with all her high school clothes. Feeling her headache begin to subside, she sat up and got to her feet.
She walked over and began thumbing her way through her old prom dresses and an array of hideous sweaters from the nineties until she reached the very back. There, tucked away and resting in the shadows, was a small cluster of her grandmother’s clothing. Shocked to see them, she felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she remembered the day they had cleared out all her grandmother’s belongings from the sugar shack. She had thought her mother had donated everything to Goodwill, but apparently, that wasn’t the case.
Nestled against the back wall were her grandmother’s cherished possessions: a cream-colored cable-knit sweater, a long smock dress adorned with a cheerful rose pattern, a silky black-and-white polka-dot blouse, and her beloved wool peacoat. Her grandmother had worn these items frequently, and many of Nora’s memories were tied to these very clothes.
Nora carefully removed them from the closet and laid them out on the bed. First, she picked up the sweater and pulled it on over her T-shirt. It still carried her grandmother’s scent, a sweet blend of wild roses and honey. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn’t see her current reflection; instead, she saw twelve-year-old Nora, bundled up in an oversized sweater, eagerly begging her gram to tell her another story before bed.
Tears welled in her eyes and cascaded down her face at the memory. She wished so badly that she could just sit and talk withher one more time. To ask for advice, to hear one more of her stories, to get one more hug. With a heavy heart, she peeled off the sweater, as the wool had grown itchy, and set it back on the bed alongside the others.
Next, she picked up the black-and-white polka-dot blouse and slipped it on. Its silky fabric, cold to the touch, was a harsh contrast to the warmth of the wool sweater. She dried her eyes and let out a slight giggle when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her grandmother, ever the classy lady, could pull off this style like no other, while Nora felt like she had just stepped out from selling tickets at the circus. Thinking the jacket might just pull the outfit together more, she threw it on and looked at her reflection once more.
She felt out of place in her grandmother’s clothing, like a child playing dress-up. It mirrored her life in a way, where nothing ever seemed to fit quite right. Here she was, having just narrowly escaped death, yet she still had no clue what she wanted or where she was headed. Going back to college was a start but she still felt like that was just a shot in the dark, hoping it would lead her in the right direction.
People often talk about near-death experiences and how they say their life flashed before their eyes, how they clearly knew their life’s purpose after the event. But all Nora had experienced was seeing some guy she didn’t even know and hearing her grandmother’s voice urging her to go. It seemed even near death her life lacked direction. She just wished that if she knew where her passion lay, it would make this whole thing a lot easier, but nothing seemed to spark inspiration in her.
“Gram, if you’re up there, give me a sign. Point me in the right direction. I need direction,” she said, looking up at the old plaster ceiling.
With a heavy sigh, releasing the hope of some miraculous answer, Nora began to remove her grandmother’s clothes. Tossing the jacket onto the bed, she peeled off the blouse and was about to toss it back onto the pile when something caught her eye in the mirror.
Nora spun around and retrieved the jacket, flipping open one of its sides to reveal a pocket on the inside panel. A sliver of blue had caught her eye, and she hesitantly reached into the pocket to retrieve whatever it was. She pulled out a royal blue envelope from the silk-lined pocket. Turning it over in her hands, she found her name scrolled across the front in her grandmother’s neat cursive writing.
Time seemed to stand still as Nora held the envelope in her hands, her heart pounding in her chest. With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, she carefully tore open the seal, revealing a graduation card inside. Tears welled up in Nora’s eyes as she gazed at the front of the card, where a golden retriever adorned in a cap and gown smiled back at her. The wordsCongrats, Grad!scrolled across the top in puffy gold letters. Taking a deep breath, Nora opened the card, and a smaller envelope fell into her lap, revealing the card’s handwritten note.
Nora,
I am so proud of you, dove. Now, before you decide your direction, go discover your roots.
Love, Gram.
Tears streamed down Nora’s cheeks as she read the heartfelt words penned in blue ink. With trembling hands, she reached for the smaller envelope, feeling a mix of emotions coursing through her. Opening it, she pulled out a solitary plane voucher, its dates open-ended and its destination: Scotland.
Chapter Four
The Album
Three days after the accident, Nora visited her doctor for a follow-up appointment and received a clean bill of health. Despite her mother’s insistence that she stay at the house for one more night, Nora assured her she would be fine and asked to be dropped off at the sugar shack. This granted her some much-needed alone time. Nora hadn’t mentioned finding the card to her parents; she needed time to process everything. She had prayed for direction, and her grandmother had pointed her directly at Scotland. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it. On the one hand, she wanted to go, to break away from her predictable routine, and on the other, she was scared.
She mulled the idea over in her head as she entered the kitchen and placed her bag on the table. Her stomach rumbledwith hunger as if it realized where she was. Surveying the contents of the fridge, she discovered a few containers of spoiled takeout and a half-empty gallon of milk. Disappointed, she shut the door and turned her attention to the freezer, where she found a frozen pizza. Her mother had spoiled her these past few days with her home-cooked meals and now the frozen food looked less appealing.
She preheated the oven and walked over to the window that looked out in the direction of the lake. It had started to snow again, and the flakes floated softly down on the frozen air, coating the ground in a thin layer. A chill chased down her spine, and she absent-mindedly touched the bruise on her forehead. The image of the man she had seen in her dream state during the accident kept flashing back to her. She still could not place him, but she thought she knew his face. The oven beeped and pulled her from her thoughts.
