Page 3 of Willow

Over the next few weeks there’s a ton of things happening. I’m not sure if I’m ready for any of them. TheResilienttour, yeah, I guess I’m excited about that, but the wedding, not so much. Hey, I’m happy for Lucas and Abby, but it’s just a reminder of what I lost and will never experience in my lifetime. It wouldn’t be fair to put my past on anyone, since everything looks different when you’re grieving. Although it’s been five years, almost to the day, I miss him more today than ever. It could be because I want to share all of my happiness and fame with my significant other, but, well, the only way you can possibly understand what I’m going through is if you’ve lost someone you loved. Grief doesn’t have an expiration date, because if it did, it would have expired by now.

I’m bitter and angry and I’m letting it control my life. After everything that I lost, it’s hard to be around my lovesick friends. I know, I know. It sounds petty and selfish and maybe I am those things, but until you’ve walked in my shoes you can’t judge. And, you’ll never understand the guilt I carry around with me on a daily basis. Especially when I witness firsthand the light that no longer exists in my mother’s eyes and know it’s all because of me. It’s a subject I really can’t get into right now. I’m just not strong enough.

I’m so preoccupied that I’ve been flipping through this damn magazine too many times to count. It’s so frustrating that Mom’s at work and I need to amuse myself for a few more hours until she gets home. What to do, what to do? I suppose I could start dinner, but I’ve been cooped up in this house all day long and I wanted to take her out. In all fairness, it’s tough going places when everyone recognizes you. Even if they went to school with me, they’d treat me like a celebrity. Too funny.

Tossing the neglected magazine on the end of the sofa, I decide to go check the mail. Before I do, I peek through the curtains to make sure none of the neighbors are lurking about. Unfortunately, I’ve caught them a time or two and then they expect me to stand there and talk to them. Like, I never did before, so why start now?

The walk to the mailbox is quite uneventful. Just the way I like it. I’m not a snob, but I really do like my personal space. More so now than ever before. I chuckle when I open the mailbox up to find a ton of magazines. Mom just can’t say no when it comes to a bargain subscription. As far as I know, she doesn’t read any of them. But if it makes her happy, who am I to keep calling her out? I grab the envelopes, fold them inside the mags, and walk back inside before tossing everything on the dining table. Just as I’m about to leave, one of the letters catches my eye.

It’s addressed to Sarah Adams, but that doesn’t stop me from ripping the damn thing open. I’m desperately scanning the pages while tears stream down my face. How dare he write her a letter about love and longing when he ripped that away from his only daughter without batting an eye! Murderer! Lowlife piece of scum. All I want to do is tear that letter up into a million pieces and throw it in the trash, but it’s not mine and I can’t. Nausea rips through me like an icy chill. I clamp my hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom. I barely make it to my knees when what little I ate today comes back up in full force.

I’m so distraught that I don’t hear Trevor until he knocks on the door. “Willow, you okay?”

My first thought is, “No, I’ll never be okay again,” but deep down, he already knows that. “Yep, give me a minute.”

Ten minutes later, I walk out and face my cousin. He knows me better than I know myself. The second he looks up from where he’s sitting, I break. Strong, safe arms wrap around my trembling frame, and, for a moment, all is right with the world.

“Talk to me. What the hell happened?” I’m blubbering so much that I couldn’t talk if my life depended on it. I thought I shed my last tear over this man, but apparently there was a deluge just waiting to be set free. Trevor doesn’t ask again, he just rubs circles on my back until I’m left with the sniffles. “Come sit down.”

Trevor leads me to the sofa, and I plop down next to him. My gut is churning. I know what I did was wrong. I only have myself to blame since I opened that damn letter. I’m about to explain what I did when the front door opens and Mom walks through. One look at me and the scattered letters and she knows. This time, no tears make their escape. Trevor’s looking back and forth and has no idea what’s going on. With a sigh, she walks over, sits on the coffee table in front of me, and takes my hands in hers.

“I know what you’re thinking and you are so wrong, sweet girl. I’ve never opened or read any of those letters your father’s sent, and I never will. He’s my past and you are my present. Do you understand?”

What she’s trying to convey to me is this has been happening for many years. Probably ever since he was incarcerated. Just knowing she hasn’t read them brings me a tiny bit of peace.

“I don’t want to be a selfish daughter who holds her mother back from living her own life. I just recognized the handwriting, saw the return address, and I just lost it. I have no right to tell you how to live your life when I’m never here and you’re all alone.”

“Willow, first of all, it’s my choice whether I want to be alone or share my life with someone. It’s not your job to stay here and hold my hand. I’m very capable of taking care of myself and always have been. Don’t feel guilty or angry about the past. I’ve moved on and you need to do the same.”

Ah, so much easier said than done. I feel horrible that Trevor’s clueless about what’s happening here. I need to get my shit together and find out why he’s here.

* * *

CALEB

Not too manypeopleknowI’m a music mogul by day and a single parent by night. Only my family and a handful of friends know. It’s something I guard with my life because not only am I worried about my enemies, kidnappers, and the like, I need to be cautious because of her health. Cadence was born with Cystic Fibrosis, and that in of itself is the only reason I don’t allow visitors. It just takes one tiny infection and, well, I refuse to think what could happen. It’s why I keep her far away from the limelight.

“Daddy home!” I can’t help smiling when a chubby finger points from inside the kitchen. Anna comes rushing out, wiping her hands on a dish towel. My heart sinks knowing I missed another meal with my daughter.

“He sure is. Why don’t we let him clean up first and then he can give you your bath.” Anna’s only doing her job. She’s not my wife, my girlfriend, or even a friend for that matter. She’s Cadence’s grandmother—my ex’s mother. She’s worth her weight in gold since she’s also a nurse and takes care of Cadence on a daily basis. She loves her to pieces, yet I’m not sure if there’s a bit of resentment since her daughter couldn’t stick around to deal with Cadence’s illness. Yeah, she’s a piece of shit for abandoning her own daughter. I more than make up for her absence in spades. I work from home a few days a week and only go into the office when needed. Like today.

I always wash before leaving the office, so I kneel down and open up my arms to the only girl I’ll ever love. She’s only too happy to oblige as she runs into my arms. I catch her and sweep her off her feet while she’s wearing her princess outfit. “How are we feeling today, Princess Merida?” Cadence is a fiery redhead, and since she’s the bravest girl I know, the name is perfectly fitting.

“We feel good. Come see, Daddy.” She’s pointing toward the deck outside and I can only imagine what she wants to show me. I can’t help nuzzling into her neck just to listen to her breathing. It’s steady, I don’t detect any wheezing or crackling, so I breathe a sigh of relief. I stride to the back door with a wiggling three-year-old tucked safely in my arms.

“Look. See, Daddy?”

“Yes, I do, and it’s beautiful just like you, precious girl. Did you and Nana work on it today?” Cadence is an old soul. Like me. She absolutely loves anything to do with music. So, Anna’s helping her with a mural she wants to make on the deck. I wasn’t easily convinced until her doctors gave me the okay. Everything in moderation, is what they tell me. It’s not good to smother her or keep her from living her life since the strides they’ve made with CF over the years is tremendous. Still, I’m leery. I’m her guardian. Her protector. I’d absolutely die if anything ever happened to her.

“Get down. I show you.” Smiling, I set her on her feet and open the door. She squeals and spreads out her arms, and I’m so damn proud of what she’s accomplished. Damn if those tears don’t want to make an appearance, but I won’t let them. Not now when she’s so full of love and life.

“It’s so beautiful, Cadence. I love it!” Anna tsks from the doorway when Cadence starts spinning in circles, head tipped towards the sky. With a smile lighting up her face.

“Dammit, Caleb. If she gets too excited she’ll start wheezing, and we know what will happen.” I know she’s right, but I hate the fact that I need to squash her happiness because I was the cause of her disease. Well, her mother and I. Neither of us had any way of knowing that we both carried the gene.

“Okay, Princess Merida. Why don’t we run you a bath and then I’ll read you a story after your treatment.” Of course she’s going to pout. I just stole her thunder and she’s not happy. “Tomorrow’s Saturday and I’ll be home, so we can do whatever you want to do. Sound good?” I love the fact that I can turn her frown into a smile. Yep, I do. Without a peep, she walks over and takes my hand.

“There’s some leftovers in the oven if you’re hungry,” Anna says. “I’ll see you on Monday morning, but don’t hesitate to call if you need me.” She smiles at Cadence. “Bye, princess, I’ll see you later.” With a quick kiss and hug, she’s gone at last. I shouldn’t be such a prick, but old habits die hard. Now I have my girl all to myself. We’re going to have so much fun this weekend!

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