Page 72 of Nineteen Letters
“How nice would it be to live this close to the beach,” you said. “I wish I was rich.”
“If I ever win the lottery, I’ll buy you one of these houses.”
“That’s sweet.” You bumped my shoulder as a smile spread across your pretty face.
“Which one would you prefer?”
“None of these,” you replied. “I’d build my dream house.”
“You have a dream house?”
“I do.” You linked your arm through mine as we continued along the sand. “I even drew a picture of it. I’ll show you when we get home.”
We spent most of the morning swimming, and when we were done, we built a snowman out of wet sand—complete with seaweed hair, twig arms and shell eyes. Since Christmas in Australia fell during summer, we didn’t get snow like other countries in the world. We’d been doing this for so many years it had become a Christmas tradition.
Later that afternoon, as my dad lay on our sofa sleeping off the effects of his big day on the drink with your father, I lazed around your lounge room in front of your television. When I asked to see your drawing you seemed pleased and raced off to collect it from your room.
“I’m going to live in a house exactly like that one day,” you announced as you handed it over for me to study. It was a white weatherboard two-storey house, complete with a white picket fence out front. The drawing was so detailed, right down to the blue shutters and trim around the windows. You had even added a colourful garden that ran the length of the front porch.
“I love it,” I said.
“A girl can dream,” you replied with a sigh, but I didn’t doubt it for a second. “Dreams are free, you know.” I handed the drawing back to you, and I’m pretty sure that’s the exact moment my future was confirmed. I was going to become an architect. You wanted that house, and I was going to make sure you got it. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to make your dreams come true. “You can buy the house next door, and we can be neighbours just like we are now.”
I smiled and nodded, but there was no way I was going to settle for being your neighbour. I was going tomarry you one day, and we were going to live in that house together.
A boy can dream too …
What we had is far too beautiful to be forgotten.
Yours always,
Braxton
I place the letter down beside me and pick up the small parcel. As soon as I see the pink box, I’m smiling. I know what’s inside: the shell earrings he bought me when we were teenagers.
They’re beautiful, and a similar shape to the shell charm on my memory bracelet. I remove them from the box and slide them into my ears, then search in the envelope for my charm.
I find three: a house, a wrapped gift and a snowman.
Also in the envelope is a folded piece of paper. When I open it, I can’t contain my smile. It’s the picture I drew of my dream house. It’s not just a square with a triangle on top for the roof, like I imagined it would be. There’s so much detail in it. But the biggest surprise for me is that it’s almost identical to the house where Braxton lives.
He really did build me my dream house.
Chapter 23
Braxton
“Hey, Pop,” I say, entering his room. I love the smile that appears on his face as soon as he sees me. More often than not I just get a blank stare.
“Hi, son.”
The moment those words are out of his mouth, I’m grinning. Today is a good day; today he remembers me. He leans forward in his chair and looks behind me. My first thought is he’s looking for Jem, but sadly, she isn’t with me today.
I’ve waited on the back deck every morning since I last saw her. I even resorted to taking Bella-Rose for walks just in case she was further down the beach, but there has been no sign of her.
“Where’s your mum? She’s not with you?” he asks.
My heart sinks. He doesn’t ask for her often, but when he does, it always ends badly.
