Page 101 of Beautiful Crazy

Beck opens the door and I watch as my two older brothers step out into the hallway, waving as they leave. “See ya soon, Emmett.”

“See ya guys.”

I flip the thick white envelope over in my hands, staring at my dad’s handwriting. Just seeing his writing makes my heart thump in my chest. I smile timidly to myself at the thought that it feels like Dad is with me right now. I rip open the envelope and pull out several sheets of paper with Dad’s writing along with another small envelope labeled “Number 2”. I place that envelope on the coffee table in front of me, open the first page, which is actually a note from Mom, and read.

Dear Graham

Your father told me to pass these letters along to you boys when I felt it was the right time. Beckham and Graham agreed that if this isn’t the right time, we don’t know what is. Whatever you’re going through right now, whether with Emily or with work, isn’t making you happy and that makes my heart break for you. I’m hoping this letter will provide you one last insightful chat with Dad to help you in whatever it is you’re struggling with. He only ever wanted to see you truly happy. I love you, Emmett. Your dad and I will always love you.

Mom xo

“Thanks, Mom.” I set her note aside with the smaller envelope and sit back on the couch reading Dad’s letter.

Emmett, my son,

Do you know how unbelievably proud of you I am?Sometimes I wonder if I said it enough while I was walking this earth, but in case I didn’t, reread that first sentence over and over so you always believe it. I know things weren’t always easy for you when you moved to Louisville. I’m sure there are times that you felt or even still feel left out when it comes to the family, but I hope you know how much we miss you when you’re not here. I’ll tell you the same thing I told Beckham though, it’s never too late to come home if that’s where your heart lies, but we are so very proud of everything you’re doing.

If you’re reading this letter though, then something in your life isn’t going quite as you had planned. I asked your mom to hand these out when she thought you just needed to hear from your dear old dad. What’s wrong, Emmett? How can I help? Talk to me. I’m always here. (put the paper down and talk to me, Emm.)

“Aww shit, Dad. You’re making me cry. Son of a bitch, you’re doing this on purpose aren’t you?”

I put Dad’s letter down in my lap and lie back against the couch, looking up at the ceiling and inhaling a deep breath. “Well, it’s been a fucking shitty week and I have nothing to show for it except a badly bruised ego, a broken heart, and up until about twenty minutes ago, a horribly smelly loft. I’m surprised Lola is still talking to me at this point.”

Closing my eyes, I take another breath and continue. “I think I’ve fucked up with Emily, Dad. I feel like I’m losing her, and I don’t even know why. Things were so good. We took the leap, we crossed the line, we broke the rules just like you always told us to do, and now…” A stray tear rolls down my cheek, but I swipe it away, frustrated with myself. “Now I think I’ve hurt her or something. I don’t know what happened or how it happened, but she left me. She’s gone. I don’t know where she is or if she’s ever coming back to me. All I know is she’s safe where she is and I have to be okay with that for now, but it fucking sucks. It sucks, Dad. I’m in love with Emily. I’m in love with her just like you were in love with Mom. I’ve been in love with her for a year and I finally got her to see it…but I guess I pushed too hard.”

I sit up, hanging my head. “I don’t know, Dad. I don’t know what to do. I want to go after her, but I can’t. She’s tied my hands. How am I supposed to ask her family where she is? If they don’t know where she is, then I’m admitting to them that I fucking lost their daughter. How am I supposed to live with that?”

A rebellious chuckle escapes me as I go through the events of this past week in my head. “Oh, and I fucked up at work this week too. Lost two clients in a day. Huge clients. My boss is pissed. Probably even more so now that I’ve taken the week off, but I don’t give a rat’s ass at this point. Sooo there’s a good chance I’m losing the love of my life and my job this week, Dad. Just hand me the disappointment sticker. I’ll wear it…because I deserve it.”

More tears spring up through my eyes and I succumb to the overwhelming sense of sadness and guilt.

“Fuck. I miss you Dad. I miss the knowing smirk you used to give me when Emily was around. You knew how I felt. I know you did. I felt it, but fuck do I need that feeling again and you’re not here. I’m sorry Dad. I’m sorry I wasn’t always there for you in the end. Fucking work kept me away, but I wanted to be there every day Dad. Every goddamn day. I wish I could turn back the clock and move back home so I could be closer to you. So I could be there for you on your best days and your worst ones. So I could share a beer with you and hear your voice more often. I wish a lot of things.”

I wish Emily would come back.

I wish she never would’ve left.

I wish she would just talk to me.

“So that’s it, Dad. That’s all my shit. I know it might sound trivial. It’s not a brain tumor or a death sentence, but shit. It feels an awful lot like my world is crashing down around me.” I wipe the tears from my face and take a deep breath. “So I’m going to read the rest of what you have to say and hope to God you can show me the way.”

Pulling up the bottom of my t-shirt, I use it as a rag to wipe the dampness from my eyes so I can see Dad’s writing and turn the page, reading on.

Let’s talk first about your job. Hopefully it’s all going well for you and you’re doing whatever it is you want to do to climb that ladder. You and Graham are so artistically creative. I was always proud of the work you guys did. Maybe one day you’ll be creating logos and marketing design portfolios for all your brothers. And if you haven’t given thought to one day working with your brothers…well, let’s hope I just planted a seed.

If you’re not sure about your job, I’ll tell you the same thing I told Beckham. It’s not too late to make changes. It’s not too late to change careers if you want to. It’s not too late to say “I want more.” Or even “I want less” if work is giving you more stress than you desire. I know you’re a strong young man with a lot of passion and a big heart. You’ll make the right decision for yourself.

Now, let’s talk about Emily. Yeah, yeah. You might be rolling your eyes because I know how hard the two of you have worked at keeping a platonic roommate relationship. That’s very admirable of you, Emmett, but since I’m gone, I can say this and not feel guilty about it.

What the fuck are you waiting for?

I see the way you look at her Emmett. I know that look because it’s the same way I looked at your mother before we were married. It’s the same way I look at her now. I’m crazy about her. The only difference between me and you is that I can tell your mom how I feel and for some reason, you’ve denied yourself that opportunity. You set up those rules that hang on your fridge and for what? To stop yourself from ever getting to love the one person who is perfect for you? I can’t imagine how many nights you must spend jacking off with her in the other room, so let me help you out here.

Stop pussyfooting around and do something about it.

Rules are made to be broken, Emmett.

Break the damn rules.

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