Chapter 49
FORTY-NINE
HAUNT ME
Beckett
“I’m so tired of crying,” Addison mumbled, taking a sip of her lemonade as she leaned against the wall behind her.
We were standing along the perimeter of the small reception hall of the church.
The service had been beautiful and a great way to celebrate an amazing woman.
They’d also planned a small graveside service for the immediate family and a few close friends.
But the turnout at the reception was incredible. It was obvious she’d touched so many people’s lives. Even my parents, Andrew, and my Aunt Michelle had all attended the service and the first part of the reception. It was good they got to meet Grams.
“If this was spiked lemonade, that would at least make me feel better.”
She was staring down at her drink like it had offended her and scrunched her nose in disgust.
“Sorry, I forgot my funeral flask in my other suit.”
A hint of a smile flashed across her lips, and she snorted a laugh as she peeked up at me.
“What a bummer.”
Tossing an arm over her shoulder, I tucked her into my side, and we watched everyone mingle. There were bursts of laughter, and you could occasionally hear a story about Helen. Especially during her photography days.
“This shouldn’t last much longer if you need to leave,” Addison said, and I peered down at her like she’d lost her damn mind.
“I’m here for the duration, baby girl. I’m here for cleanup, unpacking, and everything else.”
Addison looked like she was prepared to argue with me, but Grams’s timing was perfect. She sidled up on the other side of Addison.
“Probably another half an hour and then we can start ushering people out,” she said. “And I actually have something for the two of you. I’ve been looking for the perfect time, and I’m not sure that really exists. So…”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out two white pieces of paper. She handed one to Addison and one to me, our names scrawled on the front of each.
“Helen wrote these to the two of you a few weeks ago.”
“What?” Addison asked quickly.
Grams nodded and adjusted the sleeves of her top nervously.
“I know, Addie Wren. Just…she had a feeling the past few weeks that she might be nearing the end of her life.” Her voice broke over her words, but she cleared her throat and trudged on.
“And she wanted to make sure nothing was left unsaid, so she wrote it all down.”
“She—she had a feeling? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have—”
“That’s exactly why,” Grams said firmly.
I had never heard her speak like that before, and it seemed to shock her, too.
She smoothed her hands over her gray hair and peered around us like she was making sure no one else heard.
“She knew that if she said anything, then you would only put more of your energy into keeping it from happening. But Addie, she was an old woman, and she was tired of being in pain. Her quality of life was never going to get back to where she wanted it to be, and the only reason she held on for so long was because of you.”
“But I would’ve spent more time with her,” Addison said, and her voice broke. She lifted her hand to her mouth, then angrily swiped away the tears that fell. “I could’ve done more.”
Grams raised her hands and cupped her granddaughter’s cheeks.
I took a small step back, feeling like I was intruding on a beautiful, healing moment for the two of them.
“You did everything, and I do mean everything, you could have possibly done. You made her life—my life—bigger and better and brighter. And I promise, she says as much in this letter.” Grams tapped the letter with one hand and kissed Addison’s cheek.
But that wasn’t enough for my girl. She threw her arms around her grandmother’s shoulders and hugged her hard. When they parted, Grams reached for my hand and squeezed before she found another friend to visit with.
Slowly, Addison turned toward me and peered down at her letter. I did the same and wondered what Nana might have to say to me.
She rubbed her hands against her pleated black skirt and cleared her throat. It was such a change from her usual colorful attire, and I freaking hated it. She was color and sunshine. Black didn’t suit her.
“Maybe we read these tonight?” she asked. “At your place?”
“Of course. Do you want me to hold yours for now?”
She didn’t have any pockets, and I was already holding most of her belongings, so it only made sense.
“Yeah, that would be great. Thanks,” she said and handed me the letter but didn’t step back until she’d kissed me.
Addison had left the bedroom and bathroom door open as she showered, so I heard when the water cut off. I was sitting on the couch, staring at the two letters propped up on the coffee table in front of me.
The TV was on, too, but it was really just background noise.
I was mentally exhausted from the day, which I knew meant Addison had to be brutally tired. But she was a trooper. She’d been graceful and kind when people expressed their sympathies, and she’d helped Grams without hesitation, as she always did.
I fell more in love with her every second of every day, and today was no different.
A few minutes later, while I was lost in thought considering how lucky I was, Addison padded into the living room.
She’d grabbed one of my T-shirts from my dresser, and it fell perfectly to her knees.
They were her favorite to sleep in, and she’d even stolen a couple for the few nights we didn’t spend together.
But those were becoming less and less common since the new year.
Neither of us wanted to spend more time than necessary apart.
“That was the best shower ever,” she said as she plopped down next to me and tucked her legs underneath her. “Have you read yours yet?” She motioned to the letters, and I shook my head, dropping my hand to her soft thigh.
“No, you said you wanted to read them together. But we don’t have to do it tonight if you don’t want to. I know you’ve gotta be exhausted.”
She tilted her head to the side and peered over at me with her brows furrowed.
“I’m really not all that tired,” she said.
“Today was good. It was good to see how many people love Nana and wanted to pay their respects, and I kind of want to ride that high. I know it’s going to probably drain me emotionally when I read it, and I don’t want to leave that for another day. ”
“Okay, baby girl. Whatever you want,” I said as she sat down next to me.
Reaching forward, I grabbed both the letters and handed her the one with her name. She took a deep breath and peered at the paper like she actually wasn’t sure she wanted to do it. But she took it from me before I could question it and unfolded the paper.
Scooting farther into the corner of the couch, I wrapped an arm around her waist and dragged her closer until she was seated between my legs with her back against my chest. I kept a protective arm around her chest as she leaned her head against me and started reading.
I peered over her shoulder and noted her letter was reasonably longer than mine, which was to be expected.
Nana’s thin, elegant handwriting filled most of the page. And after a quick, preliminary scan, I realized it was dated only a few weeks ago.
Beckett,
When our Addie Wren first told us about you, I was worried. More than worried, actually. I was terrified that she would only end up with her heart broken once again. And as you now know, she’s been through enough. She does not deserve to endure more heartbreak.
Yet, here I am, breaking her heart once again. Unfortunately, I can’t prevent this one.
But this time, she has you to help her through it. And I know you will.
It was evident in every one of your actions that you care deeply for Addie. You showed us and Addie that you were committed and caring, and that was more than enough for me. Your intentions were pure, and your heart was steadfast.
When Addie’s parents passed away, we were all heartbroken. Gabby and I were in our sixties and unsure how to raise another child. Especially at our age. And not just any child, a child that lost both of her parents in a tragic accident.
We did our best, but it wasn’t without the hard times. Hard times which included a few learning experiences for all of us.
About a year after the accident, Addie started kindergarten. She was nervous about riding the bus, so we’d worked out a schedule for dropping her off and picking her up. But one minor miscommunication later, and we’d wound up almost two hours late to pick her up.
By the time we got there, her eyes were bloodshot from crying and she was angry, which she had every right to be.
It wasn’t until dinner the next day that she finally spoke to us again and admitted in her small, sweet voice that she was worried we’d never come back. That we would leave her just like her parents did.
It broke my heart all over again. And I vowed to do anything and everything in my power to keep it from happening ever again.
So, now, onto the purpose of this letter. I won’t ask that you never leave her or stay together forever, because life often doesn’t work that way. Although I think the two of you bring out the best in one another and make an incredible team. If it doesn’t work out, that’s okay.
All I ask is that you be careful with her heart. And you love her the best you can for as long as you can or are willing.
She deserves the world, and I truly believe you could be the one to give it to her.
So, you have my blessing—not that you needed it—but it’s a nice sentiment.
You are the type of person every grandmother hopes their grandchild will find.
And I know that the two of you will make a beautiful life together filled with laughter, happiness, and love.
I regret that I won’t get to see it completely come to fruition, but the little glimpse I did get was beautiful. And no matter what, I’ll be there in spirit, watching your love grow and rooting you both on.
Love always,
Nana
P.S. If you do break her heart, I will haunt you. And I wouldn’t mind if you did have children if you named one after me. And if you don’t want to use Helen, my middle name is Elizabeth.
I wiped away a tear and refolded the letter. I set it on the coffee table and peered down at Addison who had moved on to the second page of her own letter.
She took a deep, stuttered breath and wrapped her hand around my forearm, urging me to hold her tighter. I kissed the top of her head and held her close as she finished reading. It gave me a few minutes to digest everything in Nana’s letter to me.
Including a daughter named Elizabeth who looked exactly like Addison. Fuck, it sounded perfect. So perfect I could only dream it.
Addison clutched the letter and turned into my chest. Sobs wracked her body, and my heart shattered at her pain. It only made me hold her tighter. And I was never letting go.