“I never hated you, Cassie.”
“No, I know that. I was just constantly afraid of doing the wrong thing. In my head, I thought if I overstepped even once, you’d despise me forever, and I’d ruin whatever relationship we were slowly creating. And I think, because of that, I ended up keeping too much distance between us. I was so nervous that you were going to think I was trying to take your mother’s place that I struggled to find my own space in your heart.”
Her words hit me so hard and so sweetly that I’m not sure how I feel. “Cassie...”
“That’s why I started up this little project.” She reaches into the box she set on the floor, pulling out a notebook and holding it in her hands. “I want you to know, when I got this, I had no intention of turning it into what it became. I was feeling a lot of conflicting emotions with my life here and how much or how little I should contribute when it came to you, so I thought if I wrote things down, it would help me sort things out. But then I opened it up one day when you were upset—you didn’t get invited to someone’s pool party—and it just happened.”
“What just happened?” I ask, looking from the notebook to her.
“It’s hard to explain. At first, I thought I would keep it to myself. It was only meant to be a place where I could get things off my chest. But then eventually, I thought I would give it to you when you graduated high school. Then I pushed it back until you graduated college. Then I thought maybe when you got engaged or got pregnant, but now I know I was just being a chicken. Because as much as you never fully let me in, I never fully let you in either, and I regret that more than I can say.”
She hands me the notebook with slightly shaky hands. I’ve never seen her so nervous. “Anyways, you’ll see what I’m talking about when you read it. I’m sorry if it’s weird or out of line. I just want to make sure I let you in, even if it’s just this once, before I go.”
She gives me one more smile and gets up from the floor, leaving the room as I sit there wondering what I’m about to walk into. Wanting and needing clarity, I open the notebook to one of the first semi-weathered pages, and I almost forget to breathe.
Dear Gianna,
Winnie came home upset today. Some girl named Crystal didn’t invite her to her birthday party, and is it terribly immature that I want to go over there and drop my composting toilet in that stupid pool? Winnie has been so stressed with finals and rehearsals, and this was the last thing she needed. I want to help her feel better, but I don’t want to pry. Sometimes I try to connect with her, but I can tell she’s not into it. It almost feels like I burnt my hand on the stove and now I’m afraid to cook.
Maybe I’ll tell Ben we should do something special with her tonight. We could drive into the city for dinner. She loves the city. She swears she’s going to live there someday. I’ll talk to Ben. He should be home in an hour, and I know he’ll do it even if he’s tired.
Okay, sorry to bother you. I don’t even know why I wrote that. Sorry. And if it isn’t already abundantly clear, I’m one of those people who apologize a lot. Also, I accidentally broke your lamp in the living room the other day while I was cleaning, and I felt very guilty about it. I’m going thrifting at some point this month, so I’ll try to find something similar. Sorry. And that’s an actual justifiable sorry, not just me saying it as a nervous habit. Anyways, that’s it for now. Thank you for listening.
Best wishes,
Cassie
P.S. I’m realizing now that “best wishes” is kind of formal when writing to someone’s spirit, but I’m not quite sure how else to sign off in this scenario. We’ll figure it out eventually. Okay, bye.
So apparently, crying is my thing now. I wipe under my eyes and turn the pages, flipping through the book and catching sporadic dates over the last sixteen years until I get to the final entry that’s dated a month ago. I take a shallow breath and read...
Dear Gianna,
Ben and I decided to put the house on the market. I know I should be excited. I should be thrilled at the thought of going home, of being closer to Becky, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is going to hurt Winnie.
I know I’m probably overthinking things. I’m sure she won’t even mind that we’re going, she’s been so busy with work. But even so, I don’t want her to see us leaving as us leaving her. That’s the last thing Ben or I want. But the truth is, I’ve never fit in here. I’m a desert hippie in the thick of Long Island. It hasn’t been easy. But I had Ben, and then I had Winnie, so things never felt too bad. But with her being gone so much over the years and Ben working the hours he did, I always felt lonely, even in the midst of our happy life.
Going back to Arizona will be a refreshing change. Becky needs me, and after I’ve been away so long, I owe it to her to come back. I think Ben will like it there, too. His joints hurt in the cold, so the heat will do him good. The house we’re renting while we look for a new place is cozy and nice. It’s close to the university, so I’m sure Ben will look into becoming an adjunct professor—he just can’t help himself. And if Winnie ever needs a break from New York, she can fly out to see us and take in the sun.
But now, as I look through the pages we’ve filled together, I can’t help but feel sad that this is my last letter. You’ve helped me through so much, and I want to thank you for being part of this with me. Maybe you can’t hear me, but maybe you can. And if you can, please know that I will never stop loving your family. I will take care of Ben, I will be Winnie’s number one fan, and you can always count on me. I may not have known you, but I’ll never forget you.
Your friend,
Cassie
I close the book and clutch it to my chest as ugly tears pour down my face. My mom is here, I know she is. I can feel her love and her beautiful heart filling me up, telling me that all of this is going to be okay, even if I don’t see it yet. I’m so strong and so loved, and even though she couldn’t be with me, she saw everything for herself and heard the rest from Cassie.
Cassie. So much regret and gratitude fill my head as I think of her. I should have given her more. I should have shown her more. For the past five years, I was chasing a mother in Juliette when an incredible woman was trying so hard to love me since I was thirteen.
Without stopping to think, I get up and rush out of the room. I charge down the steps with the grace of a rhino, power walking past my concerned dad in the living room and heading directly into the kitchen, where Cassie is washing dishes. I say nothing when I flip her around by her shoulders and immediately wrap my arms around her, locking her into the tightest hug I’ve ever initiated between us.
“I’m going to miss you so much, Cassie. I love you, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
After a moment of what I can only assume is shock, I feel Cassie’s soapy hands land on my back, returning my hug in the way she’s probably wanted to since the day we met.
“It’s okay, Winnie, I know.”
Her words and voice only make me hug her tighter, and we’re both starting to laugh a little when my dad walks in a few seconds later.
