Heidi,
My desperation must not be clear enough to you, or you are refusing to respond to my letters. I can understand why you’re upset, but I can’t say that I’m happy that you won’t even talk to me. Even just to tell me to stop writing. I won’t ask again for you to come see me. When you want to come see me, I’ll be here. Same place. Waiting.
And then, of all things, he started talking about my mom. The first time he had seen her. The first time he had gotten up the nerve to talk to her. Their first date. Their first kiss. Their wedding day. The day I was born.
The last six years of letters was a collection of every happy memory my father had ever had of me and my mom…and I’d missed it.
All of these memories that I didn’t have and events that I couldn’t recall. Everything I’d ever wanted to know about my mom and my dad, and they had been sitting in my closet, neglected for the past six years.
There were enough letters of our history to fill a book. And Landon and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, reading every last one. I cried through a few of them. We smiled through most of my childhood. And my heart swelled to bursting with each new entry, like I was getting to see directly into my dad’s head in a way he had never done for me when I was a kid…and certainly never after that when he was using.
This was a different man. This was the man I remembered every year with ice cream and a good cry.
He’d been here all along. Sitting in prison, not more than five miles out of town.
We finally reached the last one, and I slowly opened it, unsure of what story I would get to hear next. My eyes were drooping, yet I was still wide awake and anxious.
My Heidi,
I thought of another one that you probably don’t remember. You were only three or four at the time. Tall for your age, of course. You’re still tall. Just like your mama. Just like me. We thought you’d be a volleyball player or even a basketball player. We had high hopes that you’d want to be a professional athlete and get a scholarship to put you through school later. Of course, we couldn’t afford much, so we were always hoping you’d get to live your dream if you wanted.
But you had different ideas. You wanted to be in gymnastics. It was the summer of the 1992 Olympics, and after watching the girls fly through the air, you decided that you wanted to do that, too. Your mama insisted that you go into lessons. I was working three jobs just to get by. I hadn’t opened the bar yet, and we barely had enough to cover rent and keep food on the table. So, I told her no.
Well, your mom had taken some gymnastics lessons when she was young. So, while I was working, she was teaching you how to do crazy backbends and other things I don’t have names for. I came home one day to find both of you hanging upside down, and you had already figured out how to do some kind of walkover thing.
It had only been a week, and your mom, she looked me right in the eye and said, “Hank, you get this girl into gymnastics lessons and let me worry about the expense.”
I never asked how she got the money to cover it. I suspect she begged her parents. Something we both hated. But you got your lessons, and it was worth it in the end. Because that’s how you got into cheerleading, and I have never seen you happier than when you are cheering. I didn’t understand it much. Didn’t even realize it was an actual sport until you were in it, but I was proud of you.
I wanted you to have the world, and even when I couldn’t always give it to you, I hope you know that I tried.
I always tried.
I love you so much.
Dad
I felt Landon’s hot gaze on mine as I stared down at the last letter. Heat expanded in my chest, and then I burst out laughing.
“Heidi?” Landon asked.
I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t stop laughing. It came out of me completely unbidden and uncontrollable.
“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong? What’s going on? Why are you laughing?”
I clutched my sides and leaned back on the bed as I let the emotions of the night wash over me. “Nothing,” I managed to get out.
“Nothing?”
“I mean…no—God, it’s just…funny.”
“What is?”
“I have had so much stress over these letters. They’ve been sitting in there, in my closet, tormenting me for years. Years, Landon,” I told him, biting back another laugh. “And this is all it is. Memories from my childhood. Memories of my mom.”
“I think it’s pretty amazing. I wish I had something like this from my parents,” he admitted.
I leaned forward and kissed him. “Oh, I love you. You are right. This was so worth it. I should have opened these a long time ago. Though, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have been as forgiving. Maybe I needed someone to show me that it’s okay to make mistakes. That we can forgive and we can move on from what happened.”
He brought his lips to mine again. “I’m glad that I could be of service.”
“Oh, you have been of great service,” I said, moving my eyebrows up and down.
He laughed. “Are you saying you’re ready for round two?”
“Um…yes, but also sleep?”
“In that order?”
“You’ve convinced me.”
Landon carefully put all the letters back in the box and set it on the floor. “What are you going to do about all of that?” he asked as he climbed back on top of me.
I fell backward on the bed and enjoyed the feel of his body pressing into me. “I think I know exactly what I need to do.”
His eyes swept over my face, and he smiled. “Good.”
Then, his mouth covered mine, and all talking ceased.
The next morning, Landon and I presented our identification to the security guard at the gate outside of the prison where my father was housed. I was dressed in a simple blue sundress and a distressed jean jacket, and I was shaking like a leaf. I’d been so confident when I planned this trip the day before, but now that I was here, I couldn’t believe it was actually happening.
After clearing our IDs, we were told where to go for visiting hours.
Landon put his arm around my shoulders and steered me into the building. “It’s okay,” he told me. “You can do this.”
“I know I can. But I’m…what if he doesn’t want to see me?”
“The man has been writing you letters for six years. He wants to see you.”
I knew he was right, but still, I couldn’t shake the fear from my veins. This could be a disaster.
I took a deep breath and walked inside.
Landon and I found a table at the back of the room, but I couldn’t sit. I was too jittery. Nerves were fighting their way through my body, and I clenched and unclenched my hands. Landon stood by me and was my rock through the whole thing. Other visitors came in and waited, sitting casually at tables. This clearly wasn’t their first time.
A buzzer by the door announced that inmates were being let into the room, and I snapped to attention. My eyes were fixed on the door, as I waited for that moment.