Page 119 of The Singing Trees
“How incredible,” Annalisa said. “To be honest, I’m kind of jealous, you going out and helping in such a way.”
Emma almost laughed at the statement. “You’re doing your part; trust me. There’s something I didn’t tell you in the letters.You’rethe reason I’m going.” She looked away, grabbing a quick breath. “Your letters over the years are what helped me find my way.”
Annalisa beamed, so happy in her heart to hear that, and so glad that she was here now.
“Seriously,” Emma said. “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you hated me—still hated me—and I know writing me back wasn’t easy. But you did it anyway, and I’d say those letters were the second time you saved my life.”
As Annalisa listened to Emma and was reminded of how much they were alike, she knew that love had won out in every way, and not in any piece of her, not even in the far-off galaxies of her soul, did she hold any resentment for Emma, and she couldn’t wait to see Celia rush into Emma’s arms, giving her aunt a dose of love of which only a child was capable.
“That means a lot,” she told Emma. “And I’m sorry it’s taken us this long to see each other, but I’m glad it’s happening.” Annalisa remembered the gift on the chair. “Oh, I brought you something.” She picked up the box, wrapped with cream-colored paper and purple silk ribbon, and handed it to Emma.
“As if you haven’t done enough,” Emma said.
“It’s just a little thing.” But it wasn’t. It was a big thing, one of Annalisa’s most prized possessions. “Please open it.”
Emma set the box on the long chestnut coffee table and started unwrapping. When she pulled open the box, pulled off the tissue paper,and reached inside, Annalisa hoped this gift would mean a lot to her. It hadn’t been easy for Annalisa to let it go, but she knew they had magic in them, and that was what Emma needed.
Emma’s gasp as she lifted the wind chimes out of the box answered Annalisa’s question. The keys and cylinders pinged against the gold pendulum bob, at once evoking memories of her mother and of life in Payton Mills and then in Portland—those dense years of growing up.
“I don’t know if you remember when we were painting on my porch. You said one day you wanted a forest of singing trees, and—”
“Of course I remember,” Emma said, glancing over at Annalisa with wet eyes. “They’re beautiful.”
“I thought maybe they could start your collection,” Annalisa said. “I made them the summer I moved to Portland, when I lived above the clock shop.” She’d written Emma about her life over the years.
“Yes. The owner’s name was Walt, right?”
“That’s right,” Annalisa said. “Most of these pieces are from old clocks that I found in his shop, and I...” Annalisa choked up, remembering the day Walt had given her his pocket watch, telling her she had the ability to turn back time. That watch rested in Thomas’s plaid blazer, the one he wore almost every day to the high school where he’d been teaching, but these chimes belonged with Emma.
She found her words and continued, “It might sound kind of silly, but Walt told me that I had the ability to turn back time. If that’s true, then this is me winding back the clock.”
“You can’t give me these,” Emma insisted, a tear rushing from her eye.
“They’re mine,” Annalisa said. “And I want you to have them.”
Emma held them up high to appreciate them. “But...”
“This is my way of saying I love you, Emma. They’ve brought me so much peace and creative energy over the years, and I want to extendthat peace to you. When you hear them ring, I want you to remember that we all make mistakes and that it’s never too late.”
Emma began to cry as she lowered the chimes into the box. When she let go of the wire, she found Annalisa’s eyes. “I’m...I...I’m sorry,” she finally said. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s been all this time, and I’m still thinking about it.”
“Let it go, Emma,” Annalisa said, not wanting her to relive it any longer.
Emma pressed her lips together as her eyes glistened with tears. “It’s unforgivable what I did, and I hate myself for it. For what I did to you and to Thomas. To Celia.”
Annalisa felt so much pity toward her. “It’snotunforgivable, Emma. You were young. We all do stupid things when we’re young.”
Emma put her hands on her own cheeks and stared down at the floor, as if she was revisiting the moment that she’d made the decision to tell her lies. “It was more than a stupid thing.”
Annalisa wasn’t going to disagree on that point. “What happened can’t...it can’t define the rest of our lives. You’ve suffered enough.” She stepped forward and embraced her sister-in-law, squeezing her hard, showing her how much she loved her. As Emma cried into her shoulder, Annalisa felt true peace wash over her. It was one thing to respond to letters, but making this effort had been what they both needed.
As the seconds passed, Emma’s crying came harder, and Annalisa could feel all her years of pain. She wanted to tell Emma that Thomas had forgiven her, too, but the truth was that the war had changed him, and he’d come home a different man. Yes, he was a great father and husband and person, but he couldn’t get past the eighteen months that Emma had stolen from him.
When the two finally broke away from each other, Annalisa wiped Emma’s cheeks, wishing she could drag Thomas in here and wipe awaythe rest of Emma’s pain. Life wasn’t always that easy to put a bow around, though, and that was okay.
All Annalisa could do was offer her own love, and she brought Emma in for another hug and said, “We are sisters, okay? Always and forever, I am here for you.”
As Emma wept harder, both of their joyful tears washing over each other, Annalisa thought that this was exactly what life was about: people loving people.
