I trace over the colors and lines with my fingertip, the oval shape of my mother’s face, her steel blue eyes that resembled mine. “I don’t get how she always captured so much feeling in her paintings. She looks so—”
“In love with everything about her son,” he interjects and my head snaps up, meeting his determined gaze. “She loved you so much, Vance. The boy that you were, the man she knew you would become. And you did her proud, son.” He takes two steps to reach me, clasping a hand on my shoulder. “You did us both proud.” Clearing what I gather is emotion from his throat, he ambles toward the door.
“Hey, Dad?”
One foot in the hallway, he stops at the sound of my voice. “Yeah?”
“Thanks.” I catch his smile in the air before he disappears.
Laying the painting against the closet door, I tear off the white envelope addressed in my mother’s perfect script. I thumb it open and lean back against the chair.
Dear Vance,
I wanted to write this letter to you before my hand got too shaky and my memory decided to leave me again. Because as much as it scares me, I know that it will. I just don’t know when.
But I needed you to know that while my mind will eventually fail me, my heart will carry you in it wherever I go. It will remember for me the things that I no longer can—like that freckle under your eye that you used to try to rub off when you were little because you thought it was dirt, or your affinity for hiding Twinkies where you thought I’d never find them. The pride in your smile when you got your black belt, and the absolute delight on your face when your father bought you your first guitar.
What will stick with me most though, I think, is the way you always looked at me with wonder and interest as I read to you for hours at a time. Even when my throat was hoarse and I thought I couldn’t go on, the moment the word ‘more’ left your mouth, I somehow found the strength to keep going. I hope someday you’ll pass that gift on to your own children.
I want that same strength for you now… to keep going. Don’t live your life worrying. Keep looking forward my sweet boy because tomorrow will always come. And I wish you a million of those tomorrows filled with all of the happiness that you brought into my life. Being your mother brought me more joy than you will ever know.
I love you,
Mom
P.S. Go easy on your Dad, okay? He’s going to slip up and make mistakes. Help him learn from them. Oh, and eat a carrot every now and then. I promise it won’t hurt you.
Tears soaking the paper, I stare at my mother’s words. Grateful for the time I did have with her—for everything she taught me—for her love that is so much a part of who I am. My eyes fall closed as I press the letter to my chest, letting go of the past and embracing my future. Ready to move forward. Done wishing I could live my life in reverse.
“Vance?” At the sound of Ember’s voice, I open my eyes. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” A smile appears out of nowhere, surprising even me. “I think I am.” As I hold out my arms, Ember walks over and falls into my lap, gazing at the letter. “From my mom,” I point out, and she kisses away the tears from my cheek.
“Your dad told me to come up. He thought you might need me.”
“Did he now?” I snake my arms around her waist, wanting nothing more than to feel her body against mine.
“Yes. He loves you, you know.” Ember says this as if she’s known it all along and I’m just catching up. Maybe I am. It takes a while to catch up to life sometimes.
“I do know,” I admit, caressing the small of her back. “Even though it took me a while to figure it out because I can be fucking pigheaded when I want to be.”
Her lips tuck into a smirk. “You? Nooooo.” She brings a hand around to cradle my head and draws me closer. “So are you ready for this?”
“I am,” I reply, peppering kisses to the corner of her soft, pliable mouth. “Thinking of backing out?”
“Nope, I’m good.” She nods her head toward the door. “But I think we should go eat and get some fortification. We’re going to need it.”
I grin, giving her ass a squeeze. “I’m sorry, all I heard was fornication.”
“Oh God.” She laughs. “There will be plenty of that… after.”
I sneak under her shirt, my fingertips grazing her smooth skin. “Is that a promise?”
“That,” she kisses me hard on the lips then slides off my lap, “is a guarantee. Now come on, let’s go. Time’s a wastin’.”
She’s right, and I no longer want to waste another minute of it.
Ember holds out her hand to help me stand, closing her fingers around mine. I place the letter next to the painting and together we head off to join everyone in the living room. As we reach the bottom step, the front door bursts open and Riley runs inside. Red and orange leaves stick to his hair and shoes. That rosy-cheeked face scanning the room until his big blue eyes zero in on Ember and me.
“You’re here!” Riley makes a beeline for Ember, bowling her over with a hug.
“Hey, Riles.” She bends down to greet him, his tiny face buried in her long hair.