“That bastard better not be ending shit in a letter. That’s fucking low. I don’t care who he is, that won’t stand.” Chantel sounded outraged.
I decided to open it and face whatever his message was with them here. Maybe if they watched over me I wouldn’t fold up or shatter. I would hold it together for appearance sake. Before Stone, I had learned to be strong and trust myself. That girl was still inside me.
Sliding the letter out, I hoped they didn’t notice the way my hands were shaking. He had folded it three times. I took my time unfolding it because I knew once I had, I’d be forced to read his words. Words that could destroy me. Words that I would never recover from. Words he should have said to me last night and not in a letter he left with Fiona this morning.
His handwriting was neat and small. I stared hard as it all blurred together, blinking several times until I could focus and read.
Beulah,
Spend the day with Heidi today. Geraldine has a friend visiting from Maine. She will be there for the next three days. You won’t be needed while Geraldine has company.
I will be in Manhattan. Not sure when I will return. The apartment is yours to use.
Stone
That was all he wrote. There was nothing more—no answers, no promises and no I love you. He wasn’t trying to keep me. He wasn’t fighting like Jasper had fought when we ended. Stone was simply disappearing, and at the same time, leaving me behind.
I didn’t read his words again. Instead, I folded the letter back the way it had been, slid it into the envelope and held it in my hand tightly. This was my answer. He was giving me space and time to move on. He didn’t want to make me leave, but he was paving the road for me to leave on my own.
“Are you okay?” Fiona’s voice snapped my attention back to the here and now. I’d forgotten they were there.
I forced a tight smile. “I’m not sure I ever will be,” I replied honestly.
“Did that piece of shit break up with you in a letter?” Chantel sounded furious.
My lips started to quiver, but I pressed them together to stop that immediately. “No.”
“Do you need to stay here?” Fiona asked.
“No, but thank you. I have to figure out what my next steps are. He’s giving me time to do that.”
“He did break up with you!” Chantel was beyond angry.
Breaking up with me would have been easier than this. At least there would have been interaction. There would have been tears. Maybe there would have been yelling. But this? This letter held no emotion. It was a cold, empty . . . the end.
Beulah
HEIDI’S SMILE WAS THE FIRST bit of warmth I’d felt since Jasper had shown up at Stone’s. My chest wasn’t as hollow with her beside me. She had been chatting happily about the baby blankets she was learning to crochet and how they would be making them and sending them to the “babies that were cold.” A nurse who had been working in the activities room at the time told me about a homeless shelter for abused pregnant women. The blankets were for the women their small children that lived at the shelter.
Another reason I loved this place. They not only took care of Heidi but gave her things of importance to do. She loved crochet and doing something useful meant so much to her.
“I’m so proud of my new washcloths.” She’d given me four since my arrival—all her favorites that she’d saved for me.
“Keep them safe. I won’t be making more until after Christmas. I need to make these babies blankets.” She was suddenly very serious and my heart squeezed.
“The blankets are incredibly important and needed. I know those mothers are very thankful for the blankets you make,” I assured her.
She nodded her head empathically. “Those babies don’t have a home. Their momma’s need things. I wish I could make them clothes.” She looked so sad suddenly. She had no idea she’d been an unwanted baby once upon a time. Portia had wanted for nothing and gave her baby away to a much less fortunate home. And forgotten about her. Feeling hatred for Portia would have overcome me if I didn’t know Heidi had been loved fiercely by the mother she had been given to.
“May takes too long of naps,” Heidi grumbled suddenly changing the subject.
“May was sick last week. She needs the extra rest,” I reminded her.
Heidi shrugged then just that quickly her smile returned. “When you come tomorrow are you bringing cookies?”
I had surprised her today and told her I would be back tomorrow. She had spent five minutes jumping up and down clapping her hands. Watching her do that had helped ease my despair. She reminded me that I couldn’t fall apart. Heidi was always my source of joy. She would never fully understand that. More than once she had saved me from my sorrow. Losing our mother had been the hardest point in my life, but having Heidi helped me make it through each day after.
Facing life without Stone was a different kind of pain, but just as powerful. Heidi would save me once again as evidenced by our time together today. I leaned over and pulled her into my arms tightly to hug her. It was the only way I could express how much I loved her. She squeezed me back enthusiastically.
“I love you.” I fought back the tears in my eyes.
“I love you too.” She pulled back and beamed her bright smile at me. “Remember when Momma made us the pancakes with the candy?”
Momma would make us pancakes with sprinkles in them for special occasions. I enjoyed the happiness that memories of Mom brought to her face. “And she would put whip cream on top if we had been extra good,” I added.
Heidi’s eyes widened as if she had forgotten. I wondered how much she forgot. I needed to talk about Momma with her more. The little things like pancakes with sprinkles and whipped cream. The moments Momma would want her to remember.
“Yes,” she said in awe. “And one time we had choc-co-late.” She had a hard time with the last word.
“Yes, chocolate syrup. We had both made all A’s on our report card. It was a very good day.”
“I want candy pancakes with choc-co-late and whip cream.” Heidi looked wistful.
I wanted them too. From Momma’s kitchen while she stood there singing at the stove. It was a wonderful scene to remember, but we would have to settle for the memory.
“I will see what I can do.” I’d make us pancakes exactly how we had them.
“Make some for May too. She’s never had them. I told her ‘bout them.”
I always made enough for May, but Heidi needed to remind me. She never wanted May left out. I didn’t have a friend like that. Knowing Heidi had such a dear friend made it easier to leave her here. Momma had told me when we turned eighteen that Heidi would need her own life one day and I would need mine. She stressed to me that I couldn’t look after her forever. She wanted me to chase my dreams.
I didn’t know what those dreams were. Dreaming of a different life seemed so foreign now. I wish she was here to talk to or hold me.
“Let’s swing!” Heidi said jumping up from our seat at the craft table.