15. Impulsive #3
“Well… some of it.” I look at our surroundings, a riverside framed by sycamores and river birch.
The high, afternoon sun peeks through their leaves.
My daughter, barefoot and blissed out, splashes in the low rapids of a river we have attempted—and failed—to catch fish in a handful of times.
A man, suntanned and tattooed, holds her hand while she perfects the smooth skip of a rock across the water. “I sold… this piece. Specifically.”
“Unsell it.” She crosses her arms, jutting out her hip.
“I can’t.”
Tears fill my eyes. I thought I’d come to terms with this.
Worked out the details with Debbie and was grateful that Trey made a sizable offer so that I wouldn’t be declaring bankruptcy any time soon.
I thought I'd be fine saying goodbye to this piece of the land today and moving on, but I suddenly hate the idea that I won’t be the one who gets to claim this river—this view—as my own.
“I was going to lose the whole thing. All of it,” I confess. Finally. “I had to do something and—”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Tell us?” Jack pops his head up, looking at Dinah and me like he’s ready to intercede again but continues on as a quiet observer, vigilant and ready to step in when needed.
“I didn’t want to be a burden.”
“For goodness sakes, Em. You’re my sister. You helped raise me. You fed me and got me through school. You held my hand through the hardest years of my life then helped me start a business from the ground up. You’ve been my cheerleader forever… You didn’t think I’d want to be yours?”
I can’t help but shrink. “I… Your life is so good, Dinah. I didn’t want to bring you down when mine is…”
“Your life is good, Emory Marie.” She looks around us. “And it has nothing to do with a romance with a truly beautiful boy.”
Making a face like she just ate a fly, she amends, “Ew. Not boy. That felt gross coming out of my mouth. He’s a man. A beautiful, masculine man. Muscles. Jawline.”
“Yeah, yeah. Glasses. Eight feet tall. I get it. Agreed.”
I can’t help but glance towards Jordan. He’s watching me with worried eyes, that—indeed—chiseled jaw of his tight and covered with a rough layer of stubble.
I have the craziest urge to call him over.
Not because he could solve my current problems or get me out of the difficult conversation with Dinah, but because I’m really starting to believe that maybe holding his hand would make all of this easier.
“Your life is good, Em, because it’s full. Of people who love you, and garbage food that you love, and your alpacas, pigs in the laundry room, chickens that run amok, and yeah… PTA is kind of a bummer, but Molly is just amazeballs. And your little sister is about as incredible as they come.”
She smiles wide and keeps going. “You’re alive, Emory.
” Holding out her hands, palms up, she turns in a circle, twirling in her favorite pink Converse across tall, green grass.
“By some miracle, you lived. It felt impossible, but you kept going, and you get to be alive in this beautiful place, and I just wish you could see yourself and your accomplishments the way I see them. The way I see you.
“You’re my hero, Em. And I would have done just about anything to make sure you kept this land, if that’s what you wanted to do. Or if there’s a new, better dream out there you’re desperate for, let me cheer you on while you go after it.”
I pull her into my arms, and just as quickly, we’re crying.
I apologize, and she does, too. Which is ridiculous, so I tell her so.
She tells me to hush and to do whatever I have to not to sell the land.
Molly joins us, grabbing our waists, and is soon followed by Lola, who manages to wrap both her perfect toddler arms around our legs, squeezing tight.
The men join us, and again… it's weird how unweird it all is.
“I will never understand you two,” Jack says, kissing my sister’s temple then winking at me as he joins the intimate circle. He may not understand us, but he always seems to know exactly what my sister needs.
Dinah snuggles into him. “We know.”
Jordan’s strong hands find their home at the base of my neck, a solid weight anchoring my bare feet into the earth I love so much.
It breaks my heart, actually. But it’s a problem for tomorrow.
One I know I won’t escape when my sister’s eyes positively glow with amusement taking in the sight of Jordan’s thumb running soft lines up and down my neck.
A gentle breeze floats around us. The sounds of the leaves rustling through the trees brings me to tears. This is the time. The perfect spot. The people I love surrounding me.
“I think I’m ready.” A confession to far more than any of them could even know.
Taking Molly by the hand, I lead her to where she and Jordan tied an “It’s Party Time” balloon to a large rock on the riverbank. The small urn waits beside it, and when I pick it up, cradling it in my arms for the last time, that jar feels heavier than it ever has.
Molly’s hand squeezes mine. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, kiddo. So, so much.” I curl the urn closer to my chest. “And your dad loved you before we even knew your name. I’m sorry you never knew him.
That you don’t get to hear him laugh or watch his favorite shows or have him walk you down the aisle one day, but…
” I choke back emotion but can’t fight the hot spill of tears down my face as I make the same vow to my daughter that I did on the day she was born.
The one I haven’t been as faithful to as I would have hoped then.
“I promise you I’ll do everything I can to make sure you know the kind of man he was and how proud you would have made him if he were here. ”
She nods and follows as I take a step closer to the water. “I love you, James,” I whisper into lavender-scented wind and open the lid. “I’ll always love you.”
With my toes touching the water, my face turned towards my daughter’s, and the people we love most nearby, I truly say, “goodbye.”