My parents come back and tell me to go eat, but walking through the hospital cafeteria, the food lacks appeal. And it’s then that my thoughts drift to Aden.
I’ve checked my phone and despite the fact that he hasn’t attempted to contact me I fight the urge to call him. But I can’t, because stringing this out will only hurt worse in the end. I decide on a glass of orange juice and drop to a table with my phone in my hand. Going into my contacts, I hit Aden’s info and my finger hovers over the button.
“Do it,” I tell myself. “Then it’ll be over.”
I close my eyes and touch the one button that’ll help me to move on from Aden. Not so much for my own good, but for his.
Block number.
Delete contact.
A wave of sadness crashes over me. I’d give anything to have him back. To call him up and spill everything I’m feeling. He’d comfort me. Call me freckles.
Or Cece.
How can I be so in love with someone who doesn’t even know who I am?
My phone vibrates in my hand and I startle and hope that by some miraculous chance he was thinking of me and decided to call.
My hopes crash when I see my mom on my caller ID.
“Mom, is everything okay?”
“She’s up. Hurry.”
I race from the cafeteria to the elevators, grateful to see the doors slide open just as I skate to a stop. Hurrying in I hit the button for the third floor and squeeze out the slit in the door before it’s fully open. Panting, I rush into the room and the movement causes my sister to turn to me. Her eyes aren’t as bright as they used to be and they slide back and forth as if she’s searching to find me. I cross to the bed and her gaze settles at my shoulders. “Sawyer,” she says weakly. The oxygen mask is at her neck so when she smiles I can see the full extension of her lips.
“Hey.” I cross to the bed and drop down by her hip, pulling her hand into mine.
“You’re back.” She draws in a ragged breath.
“We’ll give you two some privacy.” My dad ushers my mom out the door and closes it but I see them standing right outside through the window.
“How are you feeling?”
“Sucks being in the hospital . . .” She hesitates, trying to catch her breath. “But I’m not in pain or anything.”
“Good.” I reach over and pull the oxygen mask back up to cover her nose and mouth.
She takes a full breath and I realize then my mom was right. Celia tries to act tough around me, but she’s been much sicker than she let on.
A few pregnant seconds pass between us.
“Are you tan?”
She really can’t see me. Grief threatens to send me to my knees, but I push it back. “I am. Turns out being you requires more sun exposure than I’m used to.”
Her smile falls. “I’m gonna miss that.”
My nose burns and my throat swells but I refuse to cry. “I know you will.”
“Did you take my advice . . . tell Aden who you were?”
I shake my head, unable to speak the words.
She must take my silence as a no and frowns. “Oh, Sawyer . . .”
“I’m fine. It was a summer fling, I’m happy it’s over so I can be home and spend time with you.”
Her lips quiver. “I don’t have . . . much time left.”
“Of course you do.”
“You sound sad.” She squeezes my hand but it’s weak.
“I am.” Tears burn my eyes. “I’m not ready.”
“I know, but I am.” She pats the bed next to her and I curl up beside her. She turns her body as best she can so we can face each other and our hands clasp together between us, just like we always do when we’re in bed together. Her eyes search my face and settle on my chin. “Tell me, tell me you got . . . a taste of what it’s like to not . . . get caught up in your head. Tell me . . .” She takes a few deep breaths, or tries. “You loved it and you’re going to live the rest of your life . . . every opportunity even if . . . they don’t make sense.”
“I did. I will.”
Her eyes slide shut and open so slowly. “Good. That’s all . . . I ever wanted for you.”
“Cal wanted me to tell you hi and give you a hug.”
“Does . . . anyone else know?”
“No.”
“You still have the . . . coin?”
“It’s in my bag.”
She takes a shaky breath. “Promise . . . you’ll use it.”
“I promise, Cece.” I sniff back tears. “But you have to make me a promise too. Hang on a little longer. Fight for more time. Promise me.”
She smiles. “Okay, for you . . . I will.”
Celia kept her promise.
Five days later she slipped into a coma, but she refused to let go.
The doctors were baffled. They threw around words like miracle and medically impossible, but I knew better. Celia was stubborn and would die on her terms.
Thirteen days after I returned from San Diego, Celia took her last breath.
Cradled to our mother’s chest to the soundtrack of our tears she was rocked softly into the afterlife.
Even though I swore to Cal that I’d contact him once Celia passed, I wasn’t able to. I couldn’t bring myself to reopen the communication between us and figured it would be better this way.
He’d never have to know that just four days before her twenty-fifth birthday she finally let go, and maybe he’d even believe she beat death back and went on to travel the world.
That’s how she would’ve wanted it.
So that’s how I’ll keep her memory alive.
TWENTY-SIX
ADEN
“You sure I can trust you with this?” My uncle’s giving me the look. I’ve seen it so often over these last however fucking long it’s been that it’s almost losing its punch. Almost.
It’s the look that says, “Don’t fuck this up” and “Is this really who you want to be?” It’s testing and challenging and I’m sure it’s meant to make me feel something that’ll push me to action, but I’d have to give a shit to care and, well . . . I don’t.
I haven’t heard from Celia since the night she held me in her arms and calmed my inner raging seas. I don’t know how long it’s been but it feels like a lifetime since I’ve felt alive.
Cal has been a constant pain in my ass refusing to leave and taking over all my duties at the cottages when I couldn’t pull myself out of a bar long enough to do them.
But he’s put up with my crap, he’s given me a purpose and hasn’t intervened too badly when I’ve traveled down self-destruction lane. I owe him the effort.
“Of course.” I don’t blame him for being leery about leaving this up to me. The day after she left he donated her car and I lost it. I blacked out for an entire day. After that I made him promise to keep Celia’s old place empty until I was ready to let it go. If it were my call I’d say we burn it down and put a fucking graveyard in its place, but it’s not, so fuck it. Life goes on, I guess.
He shoves some of his things into a duffel bag and I’m grateful he’s moved his attention off me so he can’t see the battle brewing in my mind.
“Her name is Kate Something-field. She’s coming by on her lunch break, so she won’t have much time.”
“I’ll open the place up and be waiting. It’ll be quick.” It’ll have to be. Because I haven’t set foot in Celia’s place since the morning after I held a gun to her head.