Page 13 of Could Have Been Us
I shouldn’t feel relief.
I shouldn’t, but I do.
“What do you mean?” I ask, feeling breathless and uneasy.
“She went into the hospital because she was weak and her head hurt. It wasn’t . . . she was . . . she’s gone.”
Even though there’s a slight part of me that is grateful my daughter is fine, I’m shocked and heartbroken that Misty is gone. I don’t understand how this happened. Her letter made it sound like she was okay. Why didn’t she tell me?
We shared a kinship. An understanding between two women who loved someone so much they put everything else aside. While she didn’t birth Kinsley, she was her mom. While I wasn’t her mom, I’m her mother.
“I don’t know what to say. I’m so incredibly sorry.”
He sniffs a few times, and when he speaks again, his voice is raw. “I don’t know what to do without her. We were together thirty-six years. She was my world.”
“Oh, Samuel, I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t either. She was doing better, and the treatment was working, but . . . here I am—without her and a single parent now.”
He’s a single parent. That thought sobers me. Their entire world is different now.
“How is Kinsley doing?” I ask, both hesitating to do it and knowing there is no way I could not ask.
Samuel clears his throat. “She’s not holding up well. As much as I need Misty, Kinsley needs her more. Well, that’s a lie, right now, I’m just in denial.”
“I wish I could say something to make this better.”
“Me too, but I wanted to tell you immediately.”
“I’d like to—” I pause and then forge on. “I’d like to come pay my respects. I don’t want to intrude or make things worse, so if you don’t want me to . . .”
“No, please, come. Misty would’ve wanted you here.”
“Just let me know when Kinsley won’t be there. I don’t want to confuse anyone.”
“Of course, tomorrow is the first service. Kinsley will be at the morning one but not the evening service.”
“I’ll leave tonight so I can be there,” I say quickly.
“She loved you, you know.”
I do know. Even though I never went to visit, Misty became a great friend. Someone who I got to know a lot about over the years and who became more than just my daughter’s adoptive mother. She was the only person in my life, other than Jack, my parents, and grandmother, who knew of Kinsley’s existence. I could tell Misty about things, talk with her, feel like I was even somewhat a part of Kinsley’s life, even if just from a distance.
My heart is breaking because I’m going to miss my friend.
A tear trickles down my face, and I wipe it away.
“I loved her too.”
“As did I. And now,” Samuel’s voice shakes, “I have to learn to live without her, and I’m not sure I know how.”
“I know you’re in pain, but you have your family and friends to support you. Lean on them when you feel weak and of course, you can always talk to me. I know we weren’t close, but you’re extremely important to me, Samuel. I will always be here.”
“Thank you, Stella.”
“Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
We hang up, and I sit here, looking out at the horizon that seems foreign to me. She was doing fine. She said that the doctors were happy with her prognosis. Misty had plans and a life, it wasn’t fair that they were taken from her.
