“Good for her.” Lily shrugged. “I guess she finished rehab then?”
Beth glanced sideways at Sarah, who met her gaze. “Yeah, she finished two weeks ago. Nate has been helping her with the transition.”
Lily took another bite, nodding. “Have you talked to her, Mom?”
Beth felt Sarah’s sudden inhale before she responded to Lily’s question. “I haven’t. Not since we saw her last month. Nate and Nell have been giving me updates, but I can tell them to stop if that makes you uncomfortable?—”
Lily cut Sarah off sharply. “I don’t care if you talk to her.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I know you guys had your own thing going. She trusts you, so, like, I get it. Just…make sure she stays okay.” Lily’s voice carried the tiniest bit of sadness, one she tried to mask in a confidence clearly modeled after Sarah.
Beth’s heart broke for her daughter, knowing what it was like to walk away from someone you loved with the hope that one day things might be different. But she also knew better than anyone that if Wren and Lily were truly meant for each other, they would find their way back just like she and Sarah had.
“So are we packing or what?” Lily said, crumbling the paper that had been wrapped around her now finished pita, clearly trying to change the topic.
“You two are. I unfortunately have a few more work things to take care of back here… Lucky me,” Sarah said, placing a quick kiss on Beth’s cheek.
Lily rolled her eyes as Sarah playfully swatted Beth’s ass as she made to follow Lily out of the studio and back down the hall.
“I forgot about that,” Lily said with a small smile.
“About what?”
“About what absolute dorks you two are together. Like, it’s almost embarrassing.”
A warmth spread through Beth at the verbalization of Lily’s observation because she knew it was true. Being playful with Sarah had always come so naturally to her and was something she was glad was back in her life. “I’m your mother. I was put onthis earth to embarrass you endlessly. Consider it payback for all the times you’ve embarrassed me over the years.”
Lily scoffed. “Like I’ve ever been embarrassing.”
The two giggled, spilling into the kitchen. “Sure, whatever you say, love.” Beth bumped her hip against Lily’s, reaching down to a stack of cardboard boxes Sarah had picked up from the liquor store. “Okay, you take the closet in the front hall, and I’ll start in here?” she asked, handing one of the boxes to Lily.
“On it,” Lily said, bringing her hand up in a mock salute. “Can we listen to music? Anything but Fleetwood Mac, please.”
“Sure thing.” Beth reached for her phone, turned on the music, and selected a playlist she knew was Lily-approved before getting to work in the kitchen.
Beth had just finished packing up the last of the items in the dreaded doom cabinet above the refrigerator, where household items went to die, when Lily’s voice rang out down the hall.
“Mama? What’s this?” she asked, wandering into the kitchen holding a small shoebox in her hands that Beth didn’t recognize.
“Huh?” she said as she carefully stepped down from the top of the stepladder she had been precariously balancing on.
“This.” Lily set the box on the counter, Beth joining her, looking over her shoulder. “It’s a box full of letters addressed to me…except this one. This one has your name on it.” Lily handed her an envelope with her name scrawled across the front, the handwriting making her heart race as Beth took it. “Mine are all numbered. Except this one.” She held up an envelope that saidread firstin that same familiar handwriting—Jamie’s handwriting.
Lily was already ripping into her letter, removing the contents from the envelope, the sound of crinkling paper filling the kitchen as Beth did the same, the two of them leaning against the kitchen counter, reading their letters in silence.
It was almost as if Jamie had entered the kitchen, standing next to her as she read the letter, Jamie’s voice strong in her head.
Hey stranger!
If you’re reading this, chances are you’re happy.
You asked me once what color I would pick to represent you, and I gave you that bullshit answer about art not really being my thing. But if I had to pick now, I’d tell you my answer is yellow—the same shade yellow of those little crocus flowers that pop up all over the yard every March. The ones that remind you that there are lighter days ahead. You showed me that light still existed in the world beyond my walls, and then you helped me pull those walls down again and again, which I recognize probably got annoying after a while. Your endless optimism gave me a safe place to believe in hope again, and I was never quite able to figure out a way to tell you that. But I have to believe you could feel how much that meant to me.
I’ve never been one for long-winded emotional diatribes—hell, words are hard enough for me—but here I am still going.
Loving you and loving Lily was one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life. Because of you, I got to know what it really means to be part of a happy family. Because of you, Lily, and even Sarah, I know I will never be forgotten. So thanks. (Yes, if you’re wondering, this does feel awkward to write. But hey, look at me expressing myself.)
I do have one last ask of you, and I promise it involves absolutely nothing athletic—unless you’re into that by the time you’re reading this—but my ask is this: Go live a life that sets your soul on fire. Live a life so full of love and happiness and lightness that everyone else around you can’t help but be a little jealous. Shine bright—you deserve it. Thanks for the adventure of a lifetime, now go have some new ones.
Love,
