31 The Letter
31
The Letter
Hayley lived in a nice apartment close to Notre-Dame Cathedral. Hoyt drove us there in his Jeep. The whole time, I stared out the window, feeling my life was about to change again and uncertain whether I could take it. I was tired mentally, physically, and spiritually and wasn’t sure where I’d find the energy to go on.
At one minute, I felt everything with profound intensity, and at the next, I was utterly indifferent, as though there had been a short-circuit in my brain and all the wires were melting together.
I knew they were both looking at me. I knew they were both worried. I tried to smile, to say something that could wipe that maudlin expression off their faces, but I couldn’t. For the first time in my life, I had stopped pretending everything was all right. Because it wasn’t. Not at all.
Outside, people were strolling on the streets, in the parks, on patios, enjoying the sun that was getting brighter and hotter by the minute.
I closed my eyes. It was stupid, but I missed my life in Toronto, so simple, so uncomplicated. Studying, going to class, going to work at the publisher, surrounded by people who made me feel part of something. But what I missed the most was Petit Prince. There, I had felt at home. I missed Adele, Sid, Ridge…all of them. I hadn’t heard from them, I hadn’t even tried to get in touch, not a postcard, not even a text just to see if everyone was all right.
Consciously or unconsciously, I always pushed everyone away. That was the reality.
Scott was sitting on the sofa watching tennis when we went inside. He waved, distracted, and said, “Everything okay? You’re all looking a little rough.”
“Everything’s fine,” Hayley said, bending over to give him a kiss. “Sweetie, can you order us some Japanese food from the place on the corner? And maybe open that Chardonnay we brought back from that little village in Provence?”
Scott seemed confused, but he duly stood up and vanished into the kitchen while I settled down on the couch. Hoyt took the recliner next to me, and Hayley, after turning down the TV, sat across from me on the coffee table.
Unable to contain myself, I burst out with, “Can you imagine what my life has been like, lugging around that secret? Every day, I used to ask myself why my father hated me, and I tried every way I knew how to get him to love me. I didn’t understand what you two had that I didn’t, and I envied you, and I used to wish I could just stop caring about you and all you had. I only truly felt good when I was with Grandma and Frances and I could pretend they were my only real family.”
I could see my words hurt my sister as she hid her face in her hands and sighed. It wasn’t fair, blaming them. They were two more victims. At ten years old, they’d had to take responsibility for me and for a secret too heavy for two children to bear.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“It’s fine. It’s normal for you to feel that way.”
“If I’d only known…”
“If you’d known, instead of just asking yourself, you’d have been certain he hated you and why. I don’t know which is worse. But Harper, we promised,” Hayley pleaded. “We all promised her. It was her last wish.”
There was nothing else to say. In their place, I was sure I’d have done the same. Scott came back with the four glasses and the wine, served us, and sat beside Hayley, putting an arm around her.
“Well, now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s get to the other thing. How in the hell did you end up with Trey, and why did neither of you tell me anything?” Hoyt asked.
“Did you just say Trey? Trey and Harper?” Scott butted in.
I looked around at all of them. Why did they find it so strange? It almost offended me. Oh well. This was the moment to clear everything up and tell the truth.
The truth—what a complicated word. So subtle, so open to modifications and interpretations. So liable to change depending on who’s telling it.
“I was going to tell you… I was going to tell both of you when you got back to town.” I bent forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “Remember when I called you, Hoyt? You were about to take off for New York… Well, it was about Trey. We ran into each other at the end of last August in Petit Prince.”
Hayley frowned, then started tying together loose threads, then finally understood. She smiled at me, shaking her head.
“In Petit Prince? What the hell were you doing there?” Hoyt was still in a bubble.
“I convinced Harper to go spend a few days there because she was so stressed out. Grandma had just died, she needed to decide whether to sell the bookstore, and she couldn’t do it here with Dad pressuring her. That’s why we didn’t tell anyone,” Hayley explained.
“And what was Trey doing there?”
“Blueprints,” Scott responded, chuckling. “Seriously. I asked him if he could take a look at the house to see if the renovations we were planning were feasible. I didn’t say anything because it was supposed to be a surprise for Hayley. I had no idea Harper would be there.”
“By the way—it was a lovely surprise.”
Irritated, Hoyt blurted out to her, “So it was your fault.”
“It’s nobody’s fault!” I screamed. “What is your problem? You talk about Trey like he was an ex-con and not your best friend.”
“He and I had an agreement: hands off my sisters.”
“Who do you think you are to say who can and can’t hang out with me? What’s next, you want me to ask your permission to leave the house?”
“Harper, you’re being unfair,” Hayley said. “And Hoyt, you’re being a dickhead.”
He mumbled something and crossed his arms, his stare furious at first, then relaxing into a kind of muted worry.
“Sorry, I just…I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”
“I know.” I grabbed his hand, and he pulled it to his heart, which I thought was almost comical. “Hoyt, it’s not what you think. And I was the one who treated him wrongly.”
I could see he didn’t believe me. For him, I was still a sweet little girl who couldn’t even hurt a fly. He clicked his tongue and conceded. “Fine, tell me the story. But spare me the intimate details.”
“You mean sex, or…?”
“La la la la la,” he said, covering his ears. “For God’s sake, I don’t want to hear that word coming out of your mouth.”
I couldn’t help laughing, maybe because the tension between us was finally disappearing. I tried to put my thoughts in order, remembering that he didn’t need to know everything , especially what had happened at that party years before. I decided to focus on the essential.
“Trey showed up at the house the day after I got there. It was a surprise for both of us, but whatever, we didn’t think there was any harm in spending a few days together. And we got to know each other better and better, went for walks, had some meals… We got to trusting each other, and in the course of our conversations, he helped me realize I’d always wanted to be a writer and convinced me to stop being afraid. He encouraged me to keep the bookstore and to hell with what Dad thought. He talked about his projects, his plans for the future. And about his mother and how wrong he’d been to reject her.”
“He told you that?” Hoyt asked.
“Yeah, he even took me to meet his grandfather. And so one thing led to another, and…you know. It happened. We came back to Montreal together. We decided to give it a try and see where things went. And honestly, those were the happiest days of my entire life. We had the idea of organizing a dinner where we could break the news to you. Trey wanted to tell you in person, Hoyt, so he could look you in the face and promise you he wasn’t just fooling around.”
Hoyt nodded. That affected him.
“And that’s when you bumped into Dad at the cemetery,” Hayley concluded.
“Yeah, and everything went to shit. I pushed Trey away. I was destroyed. I told him what we had was over, and I never saw him again until that night in the restaurant when he showed up with that girl. So I guess he’s turned the page. I mean, what did I expect him to do? It’s not like I left him with anything to hope for.”
“And you?” Hayley asked.
On the verge of tears, I responded, “I still love him…so much it aches.”
Hoyt cursed, stood, and walked to the window. When he turned back around, his face was full of pain and understanding.
“I can talk to him, Harper.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I don’t want you mixed up in this.”
“But…”
“No! I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now. I don’t know what I’ll do. I have so much to think about.”
“Harper…you’re hurting. I can try to fix this.”
I stood, desperate.
“I need you to promise me you won’t do anything. Neither of you. Promise. I am where I am because you made a decision for me without my permission way back when I was a child. You may not have realized it, but you were controlling my life instead of letting it belong to me.”
I had stopped being merciful, and for a moment, they didn’t know how to respond. But it didn’t matter. I’d had to break myself into pieces and sift through the shards to find the strength to defend myself. And I wasn’t ready to relapse. I had to live for me now.
“You’re right,” Hayley admitted. “We promise you we won’t do or say anything.”
“Thanks.”
“What are you going to do, then?” asked Scott, who had been quiet the whole time.
I had to think about it. I took a sip of wine, swirled my glass, stared into it. All I knew was that I’d been living in hell for months now, ignoring myself until I’d stopped being who I really was. I had sacrificed so much—and for nothing. I’d been chasing a mirage, unable to understand that you can’t force love, and you can’t win it like some employee-of-the-month award. Not even if it’s your father’s love you’re after. Love is something that’s born in the heart. Your bloodline, your DNA have nothing to do with it. It’s impulsive, illogical, visceral.
And sometimes it’s just not there.
I felt the world falling away around me.
I’d lost what my grandmother had left me; I’d lost the dream of writing. I’d lost Trey. And I had no way of getting them back. Maybe I should just take the money I’d made from the sale and start over somewhere, I thought. Give myself the chance to finally get to know myself and find acceptance and recognition.
Hayley walked out and soon came back with a cream-colored envelope, offering it to me with her hand outstretched and reminding me that she’d told me in the cemetery that she had something for me. I put my glass down and accepted it.
“What is it?” I asked, sitting back down.
“Grandma gave it to me when she got sick. She told me Mom had left it for you, but I should only give it to you if you one day found out the truth.”
I opened it and took it out carefully, scared of what it might contain. It was a letter. Handwritten. Beginning with the words Dear Harper .
I’m writing this letter for you with the deepest wish that you’ll never, ever have to read it. If you do, it means he wasn’t brave enough, and he couldn’t manage to appreciate what we made together.
Honey, whatever your father tells you, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter how he makes you feel. Nothing is your fault. For six years now, I’ve been trying to get him to fathom it, to see things from my point of view, to understand me. But I’ve failed.
Sometimes grown-ups are scared, honey. We’re scared of being alone, of suffering and not knowing what to do with all our suffering. We’re scared of losing what we love, and that makes it impossible to enjoy the moment or create memories we can take solace in when the future comes. Fear makes us sad and selfish; it blinds us to the beautiful things life gives us. That’s your father’s problem: he’s scared, and he pretends to be angry with you.
That’s right, my darling. I said he’s pretending.
The person he actually blames for all this is me. But he’s never been brave enough to admit it. Maybe because I was already dying then and a part of him was ashamed to hate his wife when things were nearly over for her. Or maybe because he needs someone to be the target of his bitterness when I’m not there.
Whatever it is, you’ve never been responsible for our problems. You have to believe that.
I’m sorry I forced you into this battle. Maybe it was selfish to bring you into the world and then abandon you so soon afterward. But ever since I first heard your heartbeat at the hospital, I couldn’t imagine the universe without you in it.
I regret nothing. I could never have not had you. Just one look at you tells me I did the right thing.
I know I’m leaving you in good hands. Your brother and sister love you, and they’ll always protect you. You’ll take care of each other, because that’s what family does. I wish I could be with you to watch you grow up and grow wiser. I wish I could give you the same advice your grandmother gave me.
Try to find a balance between your head and your heart. Don’t take life too seriously. If you don’t know which path to choose, always go for the one that makes you smile. Laugh at yourself, and remember that the only person whose opinion matters is the one who looks back at you in the mirror. Fight for what you believe in, don’t break, don’t bend, and never regret anything. If you don’t like something, change it. If you’ve made a mistake, fix it. If you love, show it.
The only thing worth regretting is not saying or doing what you feel. Sometimes, life gives you a chance to change your destiny, and you can’t let it pass.
Don’t let anyone get you down. Swim against the current if you have to, but don’t stop moving forward.
I know someday you’ll do all the things I couldn’t. You’ll do them for both of us. Live as if every day was your last, be happy, free, and fulfill your dreams. I know you will.
You’re strong. Brave. Beloved. Everything. Don’t ever forget that, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.
I love you crazily. All three of you.
My children: you are my world.
Love,
Mom
Tears slid down my cheeks. For a second, I felt she was there with me. Her words had lodged in my soul, and somehow they had taken all those fragments of my shattered self and glued them back together, making me whole.
I dried my eyes with my shirtsleeves and said, “Thank you,” to Hayley, and to the rest of them, “I love you so much. I don’t think I’ve ever told you enough.”
“We love you, too,” Hayley said.
“Ugh,” Hoyt said, trying to hide his emotions. “Now’s one of those moments when I ask myself why I couldn’t have had a brother. Another guy to act normal with me when you girls are getting all mushy.”
I chuckled, jumped up, and threw my arms around his neck, kissing him all over his face.
“Thank you, Hoyt. I mean it. You’re the best brother in the world, no matter how much you act like a jerk.”
“Are you all right?” Hayley asked.
“Yeah,” I said, “I needed this.” I pressed the letter to my heart. She watched me, and I could tell she wanted to know what was written there. “Here, take this. It’s for the two of you, too.”
“Seriously?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Hoyt walked up beside her and they read it together. I tried to take a snapshot of the image in my mind to hold on to forever. Then I gathered my things and left.
I needed to be alone for a while and to digest all that had happened. I walked with my senses more awake than ever, letting every word of my mother’s letter soak in. A part of me wished I had read it before, but then I remembered her advice. And I told myself it had arrived at just the right moment, when I really needed it most.
Remember at the beginning, how I said it all started with a letter, a gift, and a guy as lost as I was?
Well, now I had the letter.