Page 13 of Delayed Intention
Hello there. It has been too long since I was in touch with you, which is entirely my fault. Believe me when I say there is a whole story behind why this letter is eighteen years overdue. Maybe one day we will be friends again, and I’ll be able to relay some of that story to you if you want to hear it. For now, let me say to you that I am so sorry for not returning your messages in 2005. You may not remember any of this, and so you may not know what I’m talking about. But I remember, and regret what I did—and what I didn’t do back then.
If you don’t want to hear about why I behaved the way I did, please just hear my apology, and you can throw the letter out now.
Sincerely,
Lily Mendes
Still here?
Okay, if you’re still here—here’s the rest… The reason why I didn’t answer your calls or respond to your text messages was because I was afraid. Fear and anxiety have plagued me most of my life. At that time, I had BIG feelings for you—and I was so afraid of being hurt that I decided to make a run for it.
The thing is: you were my best friend; and I’m sorry I pushed that aside to cower before my fears. I’d love to say I’ve grown up and moved on from fear, but anxiety is still a big part of my life. In many ways, I have become worse now than I was back then, if you can imagine it.
So, with that ringing endorsement, please, know how sorry I am; and, please, know I miss our friendship very much, even after all these years.
Full disclosure—I understand that Nona wants me to be her emissary to assist with my brother’s wedding planning. IF and only IF the idea doesn’t repulse you, I’d like to help—Nona picked me because I work 7 days on and 7 days off at a hospital in Maryland where I am a Physician ASSISTANT, so I can work around your schedule and come out to Estes and make myself useful whenever it is convenient.
IF you don’t want to have my help, for whatever reason, I will understand. I think if we hang out a few times before June, things will be less awkward for us at the wedding. Of course, they may not be awkward for you at all; it may just be me. So, for my sake, then, please consider it. I hope you’ll accept my apology. Shoot me a text or email and let me know, and I will respect your decision.
Your (hopefully) friend,
Lily
The Matter At Hand
Josh, Estes Park, Colorado, October 16, 2024
Michelle’s kids are running in three different directions, and I’m losing my mind. I love my sister, but even more than that, I’m in awe of how she can wrangle my three nieces. With her husband serving overseas, she does it all on her own. I see one of my nieces climbing a rock and feel my heart skip a beat. Michelle is already there, intercepting Ella while her other two are busy with snack cups.
I smile at my sister as I pull out my phone and snap a picture of the four of them to text to Mom and my brother-in-law when cell service resumes. I look at the photo and smile—everyone’s looking in a different direction. Classic. They all look so much alike. My sister is tall and fair, like me, with wavy dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. Her daughters share her facial features, but they all have brown eyes and curlier hair, reflecting their father’s Ethiopian heritage. Miche is a few years older than I am, but it doesn’t show, and most people assume she is younger than me. Sitting on the nearest rock, I reach into my backpack to pull out a snack.
“I have a bunch of these bars. You want one?” I ask her.
“Yeah, I’d love one, thanks. I always seem to remember snacks for the kids and not for myself.” She shakes her head as she sits on a nearby rock. I toss her a bottle of water, which she watches as it hits the dirt at her feet.
“Nice catch.”
“First of all, you know me better than to throw anything at me and expect me to catch it. Second, thanks, smart ass.”
I laugh and hand her a granola bar.
She gives me a pensive look. “I love coming here—thanks for having us up to your place, by the way. It almost makes me glad we had this week off, although I don’t love that Alan and I spend a fortune on a preschool that’s closed for most of the fall.”
“That’s part of the package when you choose a Jewish school, and you know it.”
She grins. “Of course, but I feel like there should be a high holiday seasonal discount.”
I look out at the lake, shielding my eyes. Bear Lake, in the Rocky Mountain National Park, is the family-friendly choice for a trail with kids this age. Just a circular trail around a mountain lake, it never seems like much in my mind. But every time I come here, I am hit with a wave of memories, having hiked this very lake so many times when I was the same age as my nieces. That and every view of the lake from around the trail gives such a different perspective. It surprises me how great this lake still seems despite all the more advanced hikes I have access to now.
“I’m glad we came up here today,” I say, nodding my head in the direction of the girls who are watching the oldest draw shapes in the dirt with a stick. It reminds me of coming here in the summers when we were kids, with the Haddad clan, you know?”
“We were pretty lucky to grow up near such a magnificent place.”
“True.” I wait a beat before adding, “Speaking of the Haddad family, guess who just sent me a letter?”
“A letter? Do you mean an email?”
“No, an actual letter.”
