Page 404 of The Winslow Brothers

Once I get my tears under control, I step away from her embrace and dry my face with a proffered tissue that comes from her hand.

“Would you like me to read it to you?” Lydia asks, and I’m nodding before I even process her question. “Are you sure, Rae?”

This time, though, I mull it over and realize my gut instinct was right. “Yes, please.”

“Okay.” She takes the note from the counter, clears her throat, and then starts to read. And I step beside her so I can silently follow along.

Rachel,

Don’t be mad, but after we left the bookstore, I couldn’t stop myself from going back and getting this book. It belongs with you.

I didn’t know your mother, but I know, with absolute certainty, she would be proud of you. You are a strong, brilliant, amazing, awe-inspiring woman, and I know this because I know you.

One day, I hope the world gets to read a poetry book by the great Rachel Rose, and something tells me that your mother would’ve been the first one in line to buy a copy. Not because she wants you to live up to what she achieved during her life, but because she wants you to live up to what you can achieve in your life.

At your core, in your soul, you’re a writer, Rachel. A poet whose words hold undeniable power. Never forget that.

And I know you wanted space, and I’m willing to give it. But I couldn’t keep this book away from its rightful owner any longer.

When I said I love you. I meant it. I’ll always mean it.

Love, Ty

“Wow,” my sister whispers.

My vision is blurred again, but when I glance away from the note and meet Lydia’s eyes, I see that I’m not the only one who was affected by his gift. By his words.

“He spent twelve hundred dollars on this book,” I tell her bluntly, and her eyes widen.

“Holy shit.” She sniffles and rubs at her eyes. “Mom’s books are worth that much?”

I snort. “Apparently, her first editions are.”

“Goodness,” she says, and a nostalgic smile slides across her lips. “I don’t know why, but that makes me happy.”

“Me too.”

We stand there for a long moment, comfortable silence stretching between us while Lydia flips through our mother’s book and I reread Ty’s words.

“You know what I think?” she eventually asks, and I lift my gaze to hers. “I think you love him, too. I think you already know this. And I also think, even though it scares you and you think you need to have your life in some kind of perfect order before you can be in a relationship, you need him. He’s the man who should be by your side. The one person who should navigate lifewithyou. He’s the reason you got off the plane.”

One lone tear falls down my cheek, and she reaches out to hold my hand.

“Don’t avoid this, Rachel. Face it head on, okay? It would break my heart to see you walk away from this. From a man who loves you and so obviously would do anything for you,” she says, squeezes my hand, and then lets it go. “Okay, I’ve officially said my piece, and I’m done. Promise.” Her smile is a little self-deprecating. “Now, I’m going to give you some space and head back to the front.”

And then she’s gone, leaving me standing there, my eyes reading the note again.

The whole time, though, my mind fixates on her words—give you some space.

The exact thing I told Ty I wanted, even though the reality of space from him makes me feel more miserable than I’ve ever felt in my whole life.

Because you love him.

“What in the hell am I doing?” I mutter to myself. “I shouldn’t be standing around here waiting for shit to solve itself.”

Exactly. Get your ass moving, sister!

I snag my purse off the counter, and with a shove, I push through the swinging divider door so hard it startles a customer Lydia is helping by the register. But I don’t have time to apologize. I have shit I need to do.

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