“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” Daisy says, reaching over to pat my hand but then second-guesses her instincts and pulls back.
“I’m sorry too, Hollyn,” Jace says, a deep, timber-filled voice carrying out of him as he lifts his head slightly to make eye contact.
Glancing at Carter, expecting to see a smartass look on his face, he actually seems apologetic, the atmosphere amongst us growing serious.
“I feel bad now, saying my sentence. It’s nothing compared to yours,” Daisy says.
Shifting in his seat, pulling on his jeans that cling to his thighs, Jace says, “You can’t do that, Daisy. You can’t devalue what you’re going through because you’re comparing it to someone else. We’re all going through this program for a reason despite how big or small it is. This is not a competition, it’s a fellowship.”
That’s the most I’ve ever heard Jace talk and hell, it shoots me directly in the chest.
“Okay.” Considering her words, Daisy sits on the edge of her chair, preparing what she wants to say. “I’m Daisy, and I’ve been sheltered my entire life, leaving me with terrible social anxiety, no friends, and little life experience.”
Well, hell, I want to reach over to her and give her a hug.
Swallowing hard, she looks at me and says, “And I now live with my half-sister who is actually your best friend, Amanda.”
This comes as a surprise to me. I wonder why Amanda never said anything to me. Now I feel even more inclined to reach over and give her a hug.
“You have no friends?” Daisy’s face turns bright red while she shakes her head. “Well, you at least have one in me.” Unlike her reluctance to pat my hand, I reach over and comfort her. A bright smile touches her lips, lighting up her embarrassed face.
“Sheltered how?” Carter asks, looking a little more interested. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind. It’s all about letting go, right?” With her hands twisting on her lap, she answers Carter’s question. “My parents weren’t in a position to raise me so I went to live with my grandma. She homeschooled me, taught me everything I know, and made me the woman I am today, a very closed-in, na?ve girl with no clue how to function in real society. I’m hoping to leave my past behind, and learn how to be free, to live.”
Carter nods his head in appreciation. “I feel ya on that, Snowflake.”
“Oh yeah, then share with us, Carter,” I state, wanting him to actually try to take this program seriously. After hearing what he’s gone through with his uncle, being here might be a pretty good outlet for him.
“No problem.” Still slouching in his chair, he passes as nonchalant, but I can detect heaviness in his voice. “I’m Carter, and life emasculated me in every which way.” He stops there, not even hinting at wanting to elaborate.
I push. “Care to explain?”
A resounding pop comes from his gum. He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good.”
Daisy, who once looked hopeful over having a connection with someone in the group, immediately falls flat from Carter’s dismissal.
Despite the black tar coating his heart, he must notice the way Daisy’s shoulders slump because before Jace can start telling us about why he’s here, Carter adds, “I lost the one thing that was going to change my life and put me on the right track, that was going to set me free. I know how you feel, Snowflake, wanting that freedom.” A little more quietly, looking down at his hands, he adds, “I know all too well.”
Taking a cue from me, Daisy reaches over and awkwardly pats Carter on the shoulder, patting him a little too hard. “You’ll get that freedom. Just stick with us.” Daisy fist-pumps the air, her quilted vest rising with her movements. Oh sweet, sweet girl. I’m going to have to talk to Amanda about helping her half-sister update her wardrobe.
I’m also going to have to talk to Amanda about having a half-sister.
Whatty what?
Our attention is pulled to Jace as he clears his throat and lifts his head. The intensity of his eyes . . .
“I guess it’s my turn.”
“It is,” I answer with a sincere smile.
“Not to be a dick, but I kind of want to remind you all of the NDAs.”
“Dude, you’re safe with us,” Carter says. Is that compassion in his voice? Where the hell is this coming from? I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of Carter. He usually spends his time acting like a complete dick, strutting around the restaurant like the world owes him something. And maybe it does, maybe he deserves a break.
Still, it’s going to take some time for me to feel that way about him.
Jace nods and takes a deep breath. The way he fidgets with his hat, lifting it off his head so he can quickly run his hand through his hair, leads me to believe that what he’s about to say is truly eating away at him. He clears his throat and says the one thing I never expected to hear.
“I’m Jace and uh, life gave me a daughter when I wasn’t ready, and I had to give her up for adoption.”
Just like that, our group falls silent, our mouths drop open in shock, and I can’t speak for everyone else, but my heart is beating in my throat.
He had to give up his daughter for adoption? How is that a decision someone can make without mentally breaking down every day? I can’t even imagine the pain he’s going through.
Yes, I lost Eric after only a year of being his wife, but that wasn’t my choice. Jace had to willingly give his daughter away.
Oh my God.
Tears start to well in my eyes, his pain making sense, his closed-off fa?ade understandable. I’m mourning the loss of my late husband, but he’s mourning the loss of his baby girl.
It’s so incredibly heartbreaking that Marleen’s speech about next week’s class doesn’t register with me. I don’t realize we are done until everyone starts pulling out their stationery and they begin writing to Life.
I know one thing’s for sure: life is fucked up in so many ways.
***
Dear Life,
Not going to lie, you truly know how to test someone’s will. As I write this letter, I can’t help but glance over at Jace and notice the acute pain he’s experiencing. A daughter, the man has a daughter but had to give her up. How is that fair? It’s not, that’s obvious from the way he could barely talk about it.
How is it fair that I’m a widow?
That’s not fair either, but there you are, giving us these amazing gifts like the unconditional love of a man, or the sweet, contagious love of a daughter, and without warning, you rip them away from us?
Your actions make me cry. Your plans tear me apart. Your involvement in my sanity is eating me alive.
But, then you do something like today. You bring four strangers together who know nothing about each other and expose their brokenness, their common heartbreaks, and give them a reason to breathe.
The mutual need for companionship, for understanding.
I know what it’s like to lose someone. I know the emptiness that slowly erodes your heart. I can help him heal, which in return, will help me. If this is the first step of letting go, then I’m proud to say that I’m ready to take that first step.
Sincerely,
Hollyn