Chapter 32 #2
The MC asks two more questions, both of which Gracie gets correct.
It’s starting to get uncomfortable in here, like when you’re watching a college basketball game and one team is getting completely demolished.
With only a few questions left in this round, some patrons give us sideways glances.
I inherently know that we should not stay for a second round.
“Question seven: How high can penguins jump?”
I buzz in with confidence. “Trick question—penguins can’t jump.”
Gracie swivels her head slowly, and it’s at this moment I know I’ve made a grave error.
“Penguins can’t jump?” she hisses. “Seriously, Danny? You’ve never seen a penguin jump from an iceberg to another iceberg? Or into the water?”
Another table buzzes in correctly with “nine feet!”
I face her. “Nine feet?” I ask incredulously. “That’s not possible. Are these penguins stacked on top of Lebron James’s shoulders in a trenchcoat or something?”
Bickering about penguins, we completely miss the next two questions. My partner is not pleased.
The MC brings us back, announcing, “Final question. This one is worth five points, everybody!”
“Let me buzz in. We need to get it right if we want to win. Don’t ruin this for me, Danny,” she warns.
I hold my hands up in mock surrender. “Harsh, but I’ll allow it.”
“Question ten: what animal holds hands while sleeping so they don’t drift away in the water?”
Gracie and I whip our heads to face each other so fast we almost collide. Her breath warms my face, and I wordlessly reach out and place my hand on top of hers.
Serenity seeps into my skin as I feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Sitting with Gracie like this, my hand covering hers, feels like finding my favorite sweater I thought I’d lost.
I’m warm. I’m comfortable.
And everything is as it should be.
We’re so busy looking into each other’s eyes that a different table buzzes in and wins the whole shebang.
Gracie doesn’t care.
We hold hands in the backseat the whole way home.
“One strawberry milkshake for the girl with the strawberry hair,” I tease, adding a striped straw from the kitchen drawer before handing the tall glass to Gracie.
She takes it, throwing me a huge smile. “Who needs a robot refrigerator when you can make me the best dessert ever invented?”
I laugh as I rinse the blender and start making myself a chocolate one.
Gracie sips her milkshake. “Mmm, this is actually so good.”
She plays with the straw, picking it up and licking some of the frothy liquid off the bottom. I remember her at eighteen, doing exactly this, her curls nearly spilling into the rim of the cup. It takes my breath away, the intersection of then and now; who we were before, and who we are today.
After adding a scoop of protein powder, blending, and pouring my milkshake into a cup, I lead her to the kitchen island, and we each sit on a stool.
My eyes dart to the clock on the wall, and I sigh.
We’re on borrowed time. Gracie goes home tomorrow, and we haven’t even talked about what happened between us.
I know she came here for a reason—a reason I’ve been too scared to seek out.
So, I’ve done what I can to delay the inevitable, and I can only hope it’s enough.
I need to apologize for everything, so we can finally move forward—together.
“You know, Mae’s favorite milkshake flavor was strawberry. It might not be as much of a hot take as you think,” Gracie ribs.
“How is Mae, by the way? You know we still keep in touch from time to time, right?”
Gracie stiffens and blinks a few times, almost like she’s snapping herself out of something.
“Yeah,” she says absentmindedly. “Mae mentioned that on a few different occasions over the years, but I wasn’t quite ready to hear any details about your conversations. I’m glad you kept up your relationship with her, though. I know it meant a lot to Mae.”
Something isn’t right. I know that look. That look is her I’m about to tell you something that you’re not going to like look. I saw it after I asked about her injured ankle when we were young. And I saw it right before she ended things with me.
“Gracie, you’re worrying me. Is Mae okay?”
“She’s actually, um, why I came. To New York, I mean.
To see you and deliver a letter. It’s from her.
She told me to come here. Basically forced my hand.
You know how persuasive Mae is. Not that I didn’t want to come.
I mean, I did want to come too, in a way, so that’s not what I meant,” she babbles, pulling a crumpled envelope from her pocket. “Sorry, this is coming out all wrong.”
“Slow down, Gracie girl. You can always take your time with me.” I hold up just three fingers, wiggling them near her face. “You remember what to do, hmm?”
Memories hit me like a live wire as she takes a shallow breath and blows warm air toward my hand. I smile softly and put down one finger.
“You can do better than that,” I coax softly. “Look, there’s two candles left.”
Gracie takes a deeper breath, leans toward me, and lets it out.
Both of my other fingers go down. Before she can pull back, I reach out and tenderly caress her cheek.
Moving my fingers slowly, slowly down her neck, I gently tug on the end of one curl, preventing myself from running my whole hand through it.
“Do you want me to read it now?” I ask gently.
“Sure. I mean, if you want.” She hands me the letter. “I’ll step into the other room to give you privacy.”
I nod and feel a cool breeze when she walks away. Sliding my finger underneath the envelope flap, I pull the letter out and start to read.
My Dearest Daniel,
I want to start by saying I love you like a son. You are and always have been my most precious boy.
If you’re reading this letter, it means two things:
1. My Honeybee made it to New York.
2. I’m with my husband and daughter now, enjoying life somewhere else.
Confused, I reread the beginning of the letter. Then, I read it again, looking for hidden meaning that’ll change my initial interpretation of her message. One more time, but it still says the same thing.
Mae is dead? My throat closes up as I swallow once, twice. Based on the emotional current running through my body, I assume that I’m crying, but I can’t feel a thing. I’m completely numb from the bottom of my heart up.
Before you wonder what happened, let me say that it was my final wish that I be the one to tell you.
It was all very sudden, and at the same time not sudden at all.
Your Gracie was instructed to bring this letter to you in the event I passed, and I’m proud of her for doing so after so much time apart.
I didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. I ball my hands up, crinkling the edges of the letter slightly as I grapple with my emotions.
This next part is for you and you alone, so pay close attention (and don’t let her read this letter).
Mae is absolutely kidding herself if she thinks I have any sort of self-control around Gracie. If she wants to read the letter, she will.
Bee is a prisoner of her own mind when it comes to you, Daniel. She’s scared, not knowing for certain how you feel.
When I contacted Mae five years ago, feeling better after starting therapy, I wanted to reach out to Gracie, too. Once I realized she was at vet school in Indiana, I knew it wasn’t the right time. She wanted to succeed on her own, and I didn’t want to hold her back.
Knowing Gracie’s trapped by anxiety too…changes things for me. After we separated, I spent years reflecting on how she might be feeling without me. Angry, hurt, apathetic, maybe, but anxiety never crossed my mind. Could it be that the same thing has been holding both of us back all these years?
I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished professionally and what we’ve accomplished together. You’ve said I’ve given you more purpose over the past five years of working closely together, but you’ve enriched the last years of my life, too.
When I look back on my life, I am extraordinarily grateful for two phone calls: the one you made when you were a teen, scared and confused for Bee, and the one you made five years ago as an adult, ready to take on more responsibility in your life.
I’ll keep my last request to you as simple as possible: Can you keep your courage close? Can you be brave one last time? Your steadiness will bring out her strength.
I love you forever, to the smallest hive and back. Be careful with her, Honey.
Ee-bay rave-bay,
Mae
P.S. I can’t believe I literally have to die to nudge you and my granddaughter back together. Hell, you two and your walkie-talkie silence probably killed me faster than the cancer.
I choke out a laugh as fresh tears well in my eyes. God, it’s so Mae.
P.P.S. I know you’ll break immediately and offer her the opportunity to read this, you coward. Both of you need to work on your self-control. It’s a real problem.
Her voice is so strong, it’s as if I can almost hear the gravel in her tone as she reads the words to me.
This letter feels like a farewell and a caress at the same time.
It’s unexplainable how quickly a piece of paper can transform into something sacred.
After one last brush of my fingers against the handwriting of a woman who always seemed unbreakable, I call out to Gracie, who is not so subtly observing me from a close distance.
She said she’d give me privacy, but I know this woman too well.
“I know you’re spying.”
Gracie sheepishly steps out of her hiding spot behind the kitchen wall, shrugging as she meets me by the kitchen island. “You got me.”
“When did she…”
She straightens. “Two weeks ago.”
My stomach roils. I feel like I’m going to be sick. “How?”
“Breast cancer. Same as my mom. Mae and I found out last month, and by then it was, um, very aggressive, and too late for treatment.”