Chapter 49 Hayes
Hayes
The past twenty-four hours have been… not ideal, to say the least. We spent the rest of yesterday afternoon and evening at the park, perusing the various art exhibits and vendor tents.
It started as a day for fun and some level of normalcy and ended with us all wandering in near silence, yet somehow Demi managed to fill the remaining space in the backseat with the crafts she bought.
A pattern to sew… something, a jar of sourdough starter that she has no idea what to do with but Raegan assured her that her sister would help with that part, some paint and a canvas and I swear there are at least a dozen other things.
I’m not sure she knows what to do with any of it, but I was assured my little pixie is a creative talent like no other. I can’t wait to see it unfold.
It wasn’t until Raegan told us about the letter she received regarding her unethical behavior with Demi, that the mood shifted.
No matter how much we all wanted the rest of the day to be normal, I’m not sure there’s anything we could’ve done to stop it.
Both of their emotions were written all over their beautiful faces.
Demi couldn’t stop blaming herself and Raegan couldn’t stop worrying about Demi. Me? I was worried about them both.
I meant what I said about getting through it together, though.
I want to help them navigate it as best I can, which is why I bought us all plane tickets to Kansas City for Tuesday morning.
It’s also why they’re both here with me now–standing on the wrong side of the diner door–although it's much easier to be the one on the outside being let in the inner circle, than the other way around. My instinct told me to shut them out so I could do it alone, but I fought it. I’m still fighting it.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out to see a text from my best friend.
RYKER: Whatever it is, you can handle it. Don’t forget… your real family is behind you.
ME: I don’t know, man. What if I’m better off not knowing?
RYKER: Somehow, I doubt that’s a thing. And I think you know you need to do this… so you can close the book and start a new one with both of your girls. Not a chapter. A whole ass book.
He’s fucking right. He’s always right. I seem to remember being the one offering him advice with Arabella not that long ago and here he is being the smart one all of a sudden.
But this is what we always do. He’s been there through almost every moment of pain and suffering my father put me through and he always sees it so much more clearly than I do.
I text him goodbye and stuff the phone back in my pocket, then take Demi and Raegan’s hands in mine. “Ready?” they ask in unison.
I nod and pull the door open until I hear the familiar ding of the bell hanging atop the frame.
Dolores is behind the counter, filling coffee cups and making light conversation with each person she pours for. Her movement is effortless. It’s clear she’s been doing this for a long time. It helps that she’s sweet as pie.
“Hayes,” she exclaims, smiling as she rounds the end of the counter while wiping her hands on a small towel. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually be back.”
Raegan steps up beside me. “Um, we kind of forced his hand. He’s too stubborn to admit he needs this. Whatever this is.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s a lot like his mom.
” Delores reaches into her apron, pulling out a flat book with something sticking out from the top.
She unfolds the leather book and my heart is suddenly hammering against my ribcage, my pulse racing through every vein with the anticipation of what I’m about to find out. Why am I so nervous?
Demi and Raegan’s hands slide, in unison, up and down my back. “We’re right here,” Demi states softly and I can’t deny it helps… a little.
Dolores extends her hand to me, a slightly aged and wrinkled envelope pinched between her fingers.
“Your mom wrote this before she died. She didn’t trust your father with it, so she asked me to hold onto it.
I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to give it to you, but she insisted I’d know when it was time.
When I heard you yesterday… talking about your father, I knew it was time. ”
What the actual fuck?
“You’ve had this all this time?” Raegan asks, calmly but I know she’s assessing the validity of poor Dolores’ story.
I take the envelope, eyes locked on the front, letting it stare back at me–unmoving–from my hands like it’s carrying top secret military launch codes and I’m about to know something I shouldn’t. It’s just my name, in perfect cursive.
“It’s fine, Angel,” I assure her. “I’m okay.” I have no idea if I’m actually okay.
“The breakroom is empty if you want to use it. You can take all the time you need,” Dolores offers.
My eyes tear from the letter and move back to my mother’s friend. “Thank you. I think I need some air.”
“Of course, dear. Whatever you need.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Demi questions, her hand pausing at the small of my back. “No pressure.”
I regard my angel and my little pixie for a brief moment, the diner stilling around us, like we’re the only ones left.
“I used to always want to do things alone. But I can’t ask you both to stop weathering storms solo if I’m not willing to do the same.
The truth is… I need you both there, but I’m afraid of what I’m about to find out. I… don’t know how I’ll feel or react.”
“Like you said, we’ll weather it together. Even that. Good or bad.”
We thank Dolores again and find ourselves back on the sidewalk, the envelope starting to weigh heavier in my hands.
“Open it, Hayes,” Raegan demands gently.
I slide my finger under the flap and it pops open without any effort, like time has worn off the adhesive. Maybe it’s a sign that it really is time to know whatever's in this letter.
My dearest baby boy,
You’re probably a grown man now and I’ve missed it all.
God, I just know you’re the most handsome man in the city.
The entire state of Illinois, even. I’m sorry I can’t be there to tell you everything.
To touch your face and give you a big bear hug…
the kind where you feel like you’re being wrapped in a warm blanket.
Trust me when I say, I’d be there if I could.
It just wasn’t in the cards for me. The doctors say I have something called placenta accreta.
I’m not an expert at all the medical jargon, but they made it pretty clear that my pregnancy is high-risk, which is why I need to spend the remainder of my pregnancy in the hospital just to give you the fighting chance you deserve.
They almost didn’t let me leave this last time, but I made them let me leave so I could have one final real breakfast at my favorite diner.
The deal was… I had to agree to come right back to be admitted.
I know it’s silly, but I needed this time to come to terms with what’s ahead. Your father is struggling with it all and I can’t say I blame him. None of this is easy, especially when they tell you there’s only a 5% chance I’ll survive the delivery.
I know. It sucks. I won’t bore you with the gory details of what could go wrong. It doesn’t matter anymore, because by the time you read this, I’ll have long since left this earth.
Shit. I’m rambling.
What’s the point, you ask? I’m glad you asked.
My beautiful boy, the point is… my death is not your fault.
The doctors warned me of the risks and I accepted them.
I accepted them because I know deep in my heart you were meant for great things.
Great love. And I was put on this earth to bring you into it.
I’ve made peace with that. It wasn’t even a choice.
No matter what anyone else tells you, know you’re a survivor. You came into this world fighting and that makes you so fucking strong. Stronger than you even know.
Whatever you have faced or have yet to face, know my love lives on through you. Carry it with joy, love and pride because I’m proud of you, Hayes.
I love you to the moon and back, baby.
~~Love forever, Mom
Tears stream silently down my face as I stare at the letter. “She knew,” I murmur under my breath between sniffles. “She knew she was likely going to die when she gave birth.”
“Fuck, Hayes.” Demi’s hand is on my thigh and I turn to see she’s battling her own tear-fest.
Same with Raegan on the other side of her. They didn’t want me to feel claustrophobic between them–like that’s a thing–so they sat next to me… together, while I read the letter out loud.
“I’m a therapist, and for the first time in my life… I have no words. What are you going to do?”
A mixture of thoughts and feelings swirl around like a tornado in my head. My brows furrow as I work to make sense of it all. I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but– “I need to see my father.”