Beyond Eighteen(83)

“Who wouldn’t write their name on a frickin’ card? My guess is that it’s someone who doesn’t want you to know who they are,” Joanie said rhetorically as she crumpled paper and stuffed it around the wood she had positioned in the fireplace.

Then it dawned on me, and there was a pit in my stomach.

“I think it’s a letter from Candi,” I answered. “I don’t think I can open it,” I continued as I looked up at her. “I don’t want to read her lies or the fake love she’ll try and manipulate me with. There’s nothing she can say that will make me forgive her for the last ten years of my life.”

“Then don’t. You don’t have to open it. Just toss it into the fire and forget you ever saw it,” Joanie said as she slowly pulled it from my hands. “Do you even have her last address?” she asked as she kept flipping and turning the envelope over, trying to find evidence that it was from Candi. “Her name isn’t even on it; I don’t think you should work yourself up when you really don’t know if it’s even from her.”

“I just have a feeling it’s from her, J. She’s called me and now she’s trying to write me. What the hell does she want?”

“Well, there is only one way to find out. You have to open it,” Joanie said holding it out to me.

I didn’t take it. I didn’t even want to touch it. I just stared at it as she bounced it up and down in front of me.

“Wilson, what if the closure you are looking for is in this envelope? I think you should open it.” Joanie said.

I took the card from J and wondered if it was going to give me the closure I wanted or tear apart what little hope I had hid in the bottom of my heart for my mom.





Chapter Twenty-nine


~ Max ~





I looked up at the clock. It was 6:30. I couldn’t believe I was finally leaving the office. Man it’s late. I pushed the Bluetooth into my ear, pulled out my phone, and dialed Wilson. I needed to hear how the meeting had gone with Dean McCallous.

“Hi,” she said in a low grumble.

“Hey, sweets, I’m just leaving the office. I am so sorry I haven’t been able to call you sooner,” I told her as I tossed my briefcase onto the passenger’s seat of my BMW, took off my sports coat, and loosened my tie from around my neck.

“That’s fine,” she sounded preoccupied.

“You don’t sound too happy…it went that bad with the dean?” I answered immediately as I slipped into the comfort of my Z4 and started it up. Even though the engine purred, I could feel the muscles across my shoulders tighten and a pressure slowly rake down either side of my spine. I was bummed that I wasn’t there with her.

“No, it went okay with Dean McCallous,” she answered.

I waited to hear more, but she never carried on talking. I drove out of the covered garage just in time for it to start snowing.

“Sooo, then, it wasn’t about losing your financial aid?” I asked. It was like pulling teeth to get her to engage in some type of legitimate dialogue.

“No, it wasn’t about my financial aid. But I signed a gag order, stating I wouldn’t discuss any particular incidents involving specific people working or attending Wesley in the last six months; so, you can imagine what it was about, Mr. Goldstein,” I heard her voice lighten as she said my name.

“Oh, so that explains the voicemail from Dean McCallous. Tell me…no expulsion or disciplinary action, right?”

“Nope, they wanted to cover their asses. They graduated me early. They said I was eighteen and had enough credits to get my diploma right then. But they did say I had to be out of the dorms by January 7th. Tell me you are available to help me move…” I could hear her actually laugh.

“Aaahh…yeah…no, I don’t think they’ll let me set foot on the Wesley campus anytime soon. So sorry, babe, you’ll have to do that without me,” I answered. I felt a bubble grow in my throat.

“How are you going to clear your stuff out of your classroom, then?” Wilson asked, seriously concerned.

“Well, it isn’t my room any more. If they haven’t already boxed up my stuff, I’ll probably ask Calvin or someone to do it for me. I’m not too worried. My only concern is you, and that you are okay,” I told her.

In all honesty, though, I had this hovering guilt that came at me in waves. Some days were better than others, but the days that were hard were the ones where I just couldn’t help but feel like I’d let Wilson down somehow. There was this part of me that kept thinking it was wrong to be with her; for taking her away from her last six months at Wesley. I couldn’t help but think about things she’d miss…she wouldn’t be going to her senior prom or ever walk proudly across the stage to collect her diploma. I knew she’d say it didn’t matter. That she only wanted to be with me.