Page 67 of When Cardinals Appear

Frustrated, I returned to the box. One folder wasn’t labeled. As I opened it, my heart stuttered, and a chill ran up my spine. There were several crisp white envelopes, mostly addressed in Mom’s scrawl, but a few were written in a neater hand. Each envelope was addressed to different members of my family. One for me, for Steven, for Dad, for Rose, and... for Nate? I hesitated over the letter to Nate, curiosity getting the better of me. His letter wasn’t sealed, as if Mom knew I would find it impossible to resist reading its contents.

My hands shook as I removed a small piece of paper from the envelope and unfolded it.

Dear Nate,

Keep your promise. Take care of her.

Melody

The words were so simple and direct, but they said so much. Tears sprang to my eyes as I read the words over and over, as if they would suddenly change. I yanked out the letter addressed to me and ripped the envelope open. My mother’s final words to me took up just one page. She must have written it in her final days. How had she managed to find the energy to do all of that without me knowing?

Dear Lanie,

Of all the letters I’ve written, yours is the one I struggled with the most. I want to start with two things. I love you, and I’m sorry. I hope Nate has spoken to you by now, but if he hasn’t, please give him the chance to explain.

I know you’re probably angry with me, and you have every right to be. I should have told you myself. Better still, I never should have interfered in the first place. Unfortunately, I’m afraid you’ve now learned a difficult lesson and one I’d hoped I’d be able to teach you in time. Parents, like most people, aren’t infallible. We often get it wrong.

I’ve made many mistakes in my life, but none I’ve regretted as much as this. It was made out of misplaced bitterness, and if I could, I would take it all back.

The simple apology cut through the last remnants of my rage like a knife. The rest of the letter was filled with hopes for my future and how much she wished she could be there to see it. She encouraged me to follow my heart, wherever it led, and to “hold on to your dreams and dream big.” Before her signature, Mom wrote: You have my blessing, whatever you decide.

I didn’t know how long I sat there, clutching my mother’s last words to my chest and sobbing. I couldn’t move and could barely breathe. It was as if she had died all over again, the pain was so fresh.

Only one question remained for me to answer. My mother had released me from my promise, but maybe I’d been right all along. Maybe the memories I’d made in Cedar Haven were too painful to bear.

Two days later, Steven and my father came over to move me into my father’s house. I’d barely spoken to either of them since I’d learned about their secret meeting with Nate. As Dad and Steven packed my things into their respective cars, I pushed my anger deep inside of me. The day would be bittersweet enough without throwing in an argument.

While the closing wasn’t for another month, it was the last day a McAllister would live in that house, and it felt appropriate for it to be the day we truly said goodbye. Despite the lingering resentment toward my family, I appreciated that we were all together that day.

But things were awkward. Even Rose gave Steven the cold shoulder. She’d been supportive of me and told both Steven and my dad to back off. It was nice to have someone in my corner, especially as I’d felt utterly alone since that dramatic scene with Nate. While I hadn’t reached out to him, he wasn’t exactly banging down my door either. I chose to ignore the ache that reverberated in my chest whenever I thought about him.

Besides, I had enough on my plate as it was. Everything was happening so fast; it made my head spin. I couldn’t believe how much we’d accomplished in the month and a half since I’d been home.

Once the cars were all packed and ready to trek across town, I stood alone in the driveway, facing the house. Steven and Dad came up on either side of me and slid their arms around me. The three of us gazed at what was once our family home and took a collective breath, remembering all the good memories we had there and the woman who had made it a home.

Then everyone turned and climbed into their cars and drove away, leaving me alone once more. A deep, overwhelming wave of sadness came over me, and I bowed my head under its weight. All the work to get the house ready was over. What would I do with all my free time?

I turned on my heel and walked to the car, my steps heavy and slow. I drove on autopilot to my dad’s, and once there, I unpacked my car like a machine. Nobody seemed to notice the change in my demeanor. Well, nobody except Rose.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she carried a box of clothes up to my new room.

“I’m fine,” I said, but my voice sounded robotic even to me. I tried to force a smile, but it was like I couldn’t feel my face. Everything was numb.

Rose’s eyebrows knitted together, but she didn’t press the issue. Once all the boxes were unloaded, she and Steven left, and my father settled in to watch television.

I climbed the stairs to my new room and shut the door. Everything about it felt wrong. The sun was too bright, the walls were too bare, and the floor wasn’t carpeted. I shut the blinds and closed the curtains. I knew I should unpack, but I couldn’t find the energy. Instead, I moved all the boxes off my bed, crawled under the covers, and blocked out the world.

There was a soft knock at my door, and I burrowed farther under the covers, trying to muffle the sound. I’d long lost track of the days, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. The only time I left my bed was when the persistent gnawing in my stomach told me that I needed to eat something. But even then, I could stomach only a few crackers before the nausea would take over. While up, I would force myself to shower, which really meant standing under the water until it turned cold. I’d worn all my comfy pajamas, though I thought someone had come in at some point to take my laundry. The details were a little fuzzy.

The knock came again, sharper. I opened one eye. The room was dark and unfamiliar with vague shapes standing out in the darkness. I knew I should be doing something, but I couldn’t remember what. Whenever I tried too hard to figure it out, tears would leak from my eyes, and sobs would rack my body. So, I didn’t try. Besides, all I wanted to do was sleep. I was so tired. But it didn’t seem to matter how long I slept. Whenever I woke up, I still felt exhausted. Would I ever feel rested again?

“Lanie!” a deep voice shouted from the other side of the door. “Open this door, right now.”

“Five more minutes,” I moaned as I flipped onto my side and pulled a pillow over my ears. After a few more muffled shouts and pounds on the door, whoever it was gave up and stomped away. I drifted into a dreamless sleep, my favorite kind as of late.

Sometime later, my phone buzzed. I lifted my arm from under the covers and felt around my nightstand until my fingers brushed the familiar object. I picked it up and slipped my arm back under the covers. The bright screen blinded me, and I winced as I tried to make out the message.

A text from Nate. I groaned, shoving my arm out and dropping the phone back onto the nightstand. I didn’t want to talk to him. He’d upset me, though I didn’t allow myself to dwell on what exactly he’d done. Despite my lack of response, he refused to take the hint and kept texting. I rolled over, but sleep didn’t come easily that time. My brain wouldn’t shut off, as if it wanted me to remember.

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