Chapter 30. Tessa #2
In the center, piled high with pillows, is my bed.
It was a good bed, the right amount of smoosh.
Tucked in neatly at the corners is the quilted bedspread my mom sewed during her guilt-filled years after the divorce.
I know I haven’t always been fair to her.
She made mistakes, sure, but she wanted to repair them, and that’s something.
Perhaps this bedspread was her way of saying all the things she couldn’t bring herself to say in person.
I hear you, Mom, I think, as I curl up and imagine breathing in the scent of her.
My eyes close. Not to sleep, but as close as I can get. I wish I could dream away the pain, loss, and worry swirling in my head.
If Reed really is still trapped inside that portal, then I’ve flooded it with Carl and a bunch of fades. Do all doors lead to the same place? And if not, what fate have I subjected him to? I was trying to protect Tilly, but would he understand it like that? Would he forgive me?
And what do I do now? I suppose I no longer need to stay behind. Tilly’s safe. But I’m not ready to leave this world. Why can’t I quietly haunt my old house?
I don’t even have Hal anymore. I don’t have anyone. Who will hold my hand when it’s time to cross over? I’ve never felt more alone in my not-life.
I imagine what my days would be like if I somehow didn’t fade away.
Would I hover over my dad as he did his morning crossword?
Follow Jillian around the NICU saving babies?
Actually, that sounds pretty sweet. I could raise my hand in my old classes and get annoyed when I wasn’t called on.
Or haunt the student government meetings and make the lights flicker when I disagreed with their choices.
But then I think of school dances, and having no one to dance with, or family dinners on Friday nights, except the table’s only set for two. It’s all a mirage, a half-life, or no life at all. And don’t I deserve more than that?
As the waves of self-pity become almost too much to bear, I hear something down the hall.
My dad’s low voice is mixed with someone else’s.
And they’re getting closer. The door rattles, and my father swings it open to stand on the threshold.
He sighs deeply before flicking on the light.
“Haven’t spent much time in here since … well, you know.”
I sit on the edge of the bed as he steps farther into the room, leaving space for Tilly to follow behind. They’re here. They’re both really here. My heart starts pounding, my breaths quickening.
“Tessa’s been on my mind a lot lately. You could say, even more than usual.
” Tilly’s talking to him, but her eyes scan the room.
I’d have thought she’d be home recuperating from her ordeal, but with the way she’s glancing around, like she’s looking for something, or someone …
I wonder if she suspects I’m here. Maybe she wanted to thank me, to let me know she’s all right.
My heart clenches around the thought that even when she’s scared and in pain, Tilly’s still looking out for me.
“That so?” says my dad. “Tessa’s been on my mind a lot, too. Well, she’s always on my mind, but uh … lately … I’ve actually been thinking of you both. That’s why I asked you to stop by.” He walks over to my desk and stands with a small bundle of something at his back.
Tilly follows him over, tilting her head curiously.
Like he’s bestowing a gift on a young child on Christmas morning, my dad steps aside to reveal our travel books.
A large smile spreads over Tilly’s face.
There’s our Lonely Planet guide to Nepal, The Backpacker’s Best Trekking and Hostel Routes in the Himalayas, and our travel journal where we scribbled down our itineraries, hopes, and dreams.
“Oh.” Tilly pats them gingerly, as if they’re precious cargo.
“Thanks.” With her good arm, she flips open the journal on top of the stack.
Her shaking fingers trace the pages as her eyes brim with tears.
“It’s so hard to see Tessa’s loopy, perfect handwriting.
All these silly thoughts and scribbles feel so important now. ”
“You should see my desk. I’ve got a collection of every sticky note she wrote reminding me to take my pills or buy milk. I couldn’t bring myself to part with them.”
I didn’t know he’d do that. I sniffle, wiping the tears pooling in my eyes. For all his tough exterior, Doug Sinclair always was a sentimental sap.
He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out an envelope. “I am … uh … ready to part with this, though.” He hands it to her.
“What is this?” Tilly asks.
I wander over to look, too, my curiosity piqued. What in the world is he giving her? Did he write her a letter?
“Tessa didn’t know, but I’ve been saving up for that trip of yours. I wanted to give her a little nest egg for it as a college graduation present. Now, I thought I had four more years to save—” His voice cracks, but he pushes through. “So it’s not much … but I want you to have it.”
Tilly opens the envelope, running her thumb over the bills inside. “There’s close to seven hundred dollars here. I can’t accept that.”
“Sure you can.”
She presses the envelope back into his hands. “You have so much going on here. I think you should keep the money. Use it for yourself.”
“The thing is, it’s never been my money. I always thought of it as hers. And I know she’d want you to have it.”
“I would,” I whisper.
“Go to Nepal. Or go somewhere else. Just promise me you’ll use it when you graduate with that journalism degree of yours and celebrate in some way.
I’ve always been so proud of you girls. You’ve both worked so hard, and you deserve it.
” He pats her shoulder proudly. “One day you’ll be on my TV anchoring CNN. ”
“Oh stop,” Tilly teases, using our favorite catchphrase.
“No … you stop,” my dad and I echo at the same time. He cracks a small smile. And I can’t help it—I do, too.
“Thank you.” Tilly hugs the envelope to her chest. “Thanks to you and Tessa both.” Her gaze darts around the room again, like she can feel I’m close.
“It’s nice to talk about her.” My dad’s eyes fill with tears. As do Tilly’s.
They’re both catching up to me because I’m a hot sobbing mess. We stand in my childhood bedroom, the living and the dead, weeping side by side. If only they knew.
There’s a knock on the door, and Jillian pokes her head in.
Though she’s still in her nurse’s scrubs, her long black curls cascade perfectly around her face, because leave it to Jillian to look glamorous after a tiring day.
“There you are. I’ve been searching the whole house for you. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. We’re good,” my dad says, pulling himself back together.
“Are you ready for Friday night family dinner? I picked up some pizza from Reggio’s on the way over. I got enough for Sarah, too.”
“That smells great. You want to stay, Tilly, grab a slice?”
“Oh, I would, but my friend Santiago’s waiting for me outside in the car.
We promised my mom we’d head home to help make lasagna.
” I peek out the window and notice the car parked out front, and my heart explodes with happiness for her.
Maybe they really are friends, or maybe something more.
Tilly, finally making a solid choice where boys are concerned.
I can’t think of anyone better to help her do some healing.
“You ever want a good recipe, I know the guy to ask.” Jillian smacks our dad on the back.
“Who’s Sarah?” Tilly asks, which I’m thankful for since I’m super curious.
“Oh, picked up on that, did you?” My dad smiles.
“Sarah is my dad’s secret hot veterinarian girlfriend.”
“What?” Tilly and I both spit out at the same time.
“Oh yeah, he’s been dating her for a while, keeping it on the down-low from Tessa and me, but I figured it out.” She gives his shoulder a playful punch.
“Way to go, Mr. Sinclair.” Tilly nods approvingly.
For the first time I feel like he’s going to be okay. Maybe not now, maybe not for a long while. But he’ll get there. They all will.
My dad shrugs. “I thought about ending it after everything that happened, but Sarah’s a widow, and honestly, it’s been nice to have someone who gets it.”
They all nod silently for a second, that normal lull in the conversation suddenly filled with the absence of me. Only I’m here. Sort of. I wish I could reach out and hug them. Instead, I love them as much as I can, in the way that I can, standing right here beside them.
But it doesn’t feel like my world anymore. It’s theirs. My dad’s to find love, Jillian’s to find happiness, and Tilly’s to find adventure.
And as for me, I suppose I have to find my own fate. It’s waiting for me back at the van der Born estate. “Goodbye,” I whisper to them all as they turn off the light and shut the door—their voices and laughter carrying them down the hall.
I close my eyes, readying myself for whatever comes next, and imagine the mansion gate.
It’s time to write the final chapter of my own story.