Page 148 of When Fate Breaks
In this moment, in thislife…I chooseyou.
I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Evangeline Jacks standing in the doorway of The Olive Pit in Lake Placid in the middle of the day on a Monday. But I didn’t need to believe my eyes. Because she told my ears everything they needed to know. Everything they’ve been dying to know for so long. It was like something clicked into place the moment she uttered the words. Like breath suddenly reentered my lungs after years without. Like life just suddenly made sense again. Whatever the feeling, I’m bottling it up and keeping it to myself forever. Just like her.
The truck door opens, revealing a smiling Evangeline, her brown eyes shining and fixed on me, and my heart damn near bursts all over again. I take her hand, helping her down, and we make our way to the front door of the house. My mom has already let herself in and is waiting for us in the foyer when we walk in, wringing her hands and fidgeting in a way that’s very unlike her. I haven’t got the faintest clue what it is she needs to show me, but it must be important given her urgency and the way she’s acting.
“What is it, Mom?” I ask her.
She smiles tightly, motioning with her head down the hallway. “Just follow me,” she says, turning and walking that way.
I start to follow after her but am pulled back by Evangeline, planted in place and her hand still in mine. “I’ll wait here,” she says. “You go.” I nod in agreement and she gives my hand a squeeze before letting it fall, giving me a reassuring smile as I turn away.
I catch my mom just turning the corner at the end of the hall. Though she hasn’t said anything, I just know in my gut what room I’ll find her in. I stop in front of the barely cracked door, taking a deep breath before I push it open for the first time in nearly a decade.
My mom stands inside of my dad’s office, arms crossed and facing the bookshelves. When I take a few more hesitant steps inside, I see she’s looking at an old framed picture of Dad, her, and me. I swallow hard when I see it, tearing my gaze away to look around the rest of the shelves. They’ve remained entirely the same all these years, just like the rest of the office, aside from the handful of things I may have smashed in a moment of weakness. But we don’t need to talk about that.
“He’d be so proud of you, you know?” Mom whispers, bringing my attention back to her.
I let out a sigh, moving to stand next to my mom. “There’s no way to know that,” I breathe. “But I hope so.”
“You don’t have to hope,” Mom says, turning to me. “I’m sure of it.”
“Why?” I question
Mom presses her lips together, blinking hard. “You know how Annie talked about running away? Running from life?”
I nod, my brows pulling together.
“That’s the opposite of what your father did,” she says, shaking her head. “He sprintedtowardslife. Heownedlife. He took every single minute of it in stride and never missed an opportunity to make the most out of every second of it. He knew what he wanted and he took it. Made it his own.”
My tongue goes into the side of my cheek, but I continue to look at her despite the emotion stinging the backs of my eyes. She’s right. She couldn’t be more right.
“You’ve grown up to be just like him,” she whispers. My spine steels as her face splits into a smile. “You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are, hon. You’re passionate and talented and gracious and so, so strong. You see people for who they truly are and yearn for their success and happiness as much as your own. You take opportunities when they present themselves but know when to remain humble and content. You’re wise far beyond your years and know a good thing when you see it. And know when not to let it go.” She takes a step closer, resting her hand on my shoulder. “He’d besoproud of you,” she repeats.
I shake my head and moisture clouds my vision, forcing me to raise a hand to wipe my eyes. I let out a chuckle. “Is this what you wanted to show me?” I ask her. “That you can make a grown ass man cry?”
Mom chuckles, swiping at her own tears. “You may be a grown ass man on the outside, but you’re still my boy.” She wraps her arms around me in a hug, adding, “Always my little Blake Bear.”
“Okay,no,” I laugh pulling away from her.
Both of our shoulders shake with laughter and eyes well with tears. After a few moments, Mom lets out a sigh. “As fun as the bragging rights may be of making you cry, that’s not what I wanted to show you.”
“Oh,” I respond. “What, then?”
Mom steps away from me, slowly walking behind my dad’s desk and bending down and out of view. When I follow behind her, I see her crouched down in front of dad’s old safe. Dad always said he just kept his ‘emergency gun’ in there. Though I questioned how useful a gun you had to run into another room of the house and pry out of a safe with an elaborate code might be in an emergency, I never called him on it.
After several turns of the dial and a code entered on a keypad, Mom has the safe open and is digging around inside of it, the contents not visible. After a few seconds, she pulls something out, examining it behind the door.
“Ah, here we go,” she says, standing up. As she does so, I see she’s holding a simple white envelope in her hands. “Here,” she says, holding it out to me, her hand noticeably shaking.
“What is this?” I ask.
“Just open it.”
I slowly reach for the envelope, seeing its edges torn as I take it from her. “It’s already been opened,” I say.
“Open it anyways.”
I pull my gaze from my mom’s wide blue eyes, letting it fall down to the envelope. I see that it’s addressed to me and has a stamped date of earlier this month. Confused, I take a step forward, peeking around and into the safe, seeing stacks of other envelopes on the top shelf that look exactly like this one.
