I looked up through blurry eyes to see Will standing quietly in the doorway. “Go away, Will,” I said, sniffling. His expression was pure compassion, but I raised my eyebrows at him like what are you waiting for. He turned slowly and walked out as I continued sobbing. There were two letters, one addressed to my father and one addressed to me. I opened the letter addressed to my father and glanced down to the bottom. It was signed Lizzie. It was the name my father had called my mother.
Dearest Alan, I’ve decided to go back to Ann Arbor; I know you sensed that it would come to this. I don’t fit in here; this life is not for me. I love you, but we want different things and you said yourself that we create our own destiny. You’ve been so good to me and it breaks my heart to hurt you this way. I know you will be a wonderful father to Mia. I promise that I will make you a big part of her life. Please understand. I’m so sorry. Love you always, Lizzie I cursed my mother, then opened the letter addressed to me.
Luv, I knew one day you would start asking questions, so I am writing this letter from my heart. Your mother and I never wanted you to feel that our marriage failed because of you, so we chose to wait to share this information. We shared a deep love for each other, but we realized that we wanted different things in life. We hope you’ll understand our choices. We love you more than anything, Mia, and we love each other and always will because of what we share in you. These rings and earrings belong to you as a memento of your parents’ love. All my love, Pops When I finished the letter my head was pounding and shirt was drenched with tears. I felt Martha’s warm embrace around me. I hadn’t noticed her walk in but she knew I was hurting. She held me silently for a long time. I realized it was my mother who made the choice, not her parents. It wasn’t because my father couldn’t be faithful, it was because they were too different and my mother didn’t want this life.
“How will I ever forgive her?” I whispered.
“You don’t have to forgive her, you’re not Jesus. Your mom was still figuring out who she was when she met your dad. She didn’t do anything wrong except try to protect you. Your parents loved you so much, but your mom wasn’t happy here,” she said gently.
“I’m just like her, that’s why I can’t be happy. I’m just like my mom and here I am in my father’s life,” I said between sobs.
“Yes, you’re like her, but not just like her. Do you follow me?” I thought I understood what she was saying, but I was getting more than one-liners from Martha that day, so I shook my head and waited to hear the explanation. “You are your mother and your father. You are your experiences and your fears and the love you let yourself feel. You are your degree and your talent and your passion. You are your pain, your joy, and your fantasies. You are me and Sheil and Jenny and Will and every person that touches your soul… but most of all you are you, whoever you dream that to be.” She looked at me, eyebrows arched.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I guess I’m still trying to figure out the dream.”
“Just remember what I told you about listening to your soul. What I see in you is very different than what I saw in your mother twenty-five years ago. You belong here, Mia.”
I hugged Martha for what seemed like an hour. When she finally left, I knocked on Will’s door. He opened it and leaned in the doorway, his eyes sympathetic. He was wearing black jeans and a yellow T-shirt that said Everything is Rad. I wished I felt that way.
“Hey,” he whispered. I wanted to dive into his arms, but I held strong.
“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I just learned something about my parents and… it was tough.”
He uncrossed his arms and took a step toward me, but I stepped backward away from him. He paused at my reaction and looked down for a long second. He looked back up into my eyes and then gestured with his head toward the front door. “Come with me?”
“I have to go back to Kell’s.”
“Jenny will cover for you. I’m playing at the string festival Sheil put together. Come on, you could use some musical therapy,” he said, his expression hopeful.
Nothing in the world sounded better than seeing and hearing Will play. My decision was easy. “Okay, but we should stop by the café on the way.”
He grabbed his two guitars and a dulcimer while I put my shoes on. When we got to the front room, Will stood in front of my dad’s banjo. “Let’s bring this for you.”
“No way, Will!” I said abruptly. “I’m not playing anything, I’m just going to watch.”
“You mean listen?”
“Whatever.”
“You can play any Bob Dylan song you want,” he said with a cute smile. On the banjo I only knew the handful of songs my father had taught me and they were all Dylan songs.
“Okay, fine,” I said with mock irritation. I was actually excited.
We lugged the instruments over to Kell’s so I could ask Jenny if she would cover for me. She told me if I didn’t go with Will she would never speak to me again.
We took a cab to Prospect Park in Brooklyn. When I saw all the cars and the huge stage I freaked out. Sheil had told me about the festival she puts on every year, but I had no idea it was that big. “Oh my god, Will, this is a huge deal!”
“Yeah, I’m nervous,” he said, voice shaky.