Amazingly, it fits as if it was made for me. I think about how Mom must have felt as a little girl, running around pretending to be a princess. It is truly a moment of both sadness and joy. I will never be able to understand how those emotions can run in such a tight parallel inside one heart.
“You don’t have to wear it to school if you’re worried about losing it. Save it and wear it on your big date tonight. Actually, we better hurry up now or you’ll be late to school,” Aunt Claire says rushing to clear the breakfast plates as I fold the shiny red wrapping paper and put it into the boxes to save.
“Aunt Claire? She turns. “Yes?”
“Thank you. Thank you for everything,” I say, and hug her.
Chapter 35
Zack
I’m happy Mom isn’t in the kitchen when I come downstairs early this morning. She would definitely be nosing into my business if she found me up an hour before normal.
I riffle through the kitchen drawers where Mom keeps some sewing supplies, finding the scissors I’m searching for. Just as I grab them and turn to head back upstairs, Mom switches on the light. Damn.
“Is everything okay, Zack? Why are you up so early?” I hear the nervousness in her voice. It’s been nine months since Emily’s accident and even though I’m back at school and dating Nikki, Mom still worries every time she sees me alone and quiet. Today more so than any other day because of the giant pink elephant she is no doubt fretting over— Emily’s 18th birthday would have been today. Nobody has said a word about it and I’m thankful for that. I’m trying to focus on Nikki and our special night, even though guilt shifted into my brain as I woke this morning.
“Everything is fine, Mom. I was just looking for a scissors. No worries, it’s just for wrapping a present.”
“Oh, Valentine’s Day. You bought a present for Nikki?” Mom asks, the familiar sound of parental inquisition in her voice.
“Yes. Couldn’t really go out tonight without a present, could I? You raised me better than that,” I kiss her on the cheek, which I know will make her happy.
“Well, I’m a very good gift wrapper if you need my help.” Mom is definitely not letting it go without seeing this present. I relent and pull the black satin necklace box out of my pocket and show it to her.
Mom opens the box and eyes the locket. “It’s beautiful, Zack.” Her voice is full of emotion. “Nikki will love it. I’m so glad you found someone like her, sweetie. You deserve to be happy.”
“There are spots for two pictures inside. I thought Nikki could put one of herself and one of her mom so they would be together over her heart whenever she wears it,” I explain, myself getting a little choked up with emotion.
“Nikki is a strong girl. I can tell. It takes a very resilient person to get through losing a parent at such a young age. You and Nikki have a bond because of…” Mom stops. She hasn’t said Emily’s name since the funeral ended. Dad hasn’t either. They’re both afraid of opening a floodgate of emotions with just that one word.
“Emily,” I say finishing Mom’s sentence. “Nikki knows about Emily, Mom. I told her one night out at the Point soon after we met. You’re right. I think it is part of our bond. We both lived through something that most people can’t understand.”
“You’re so grown up now, Zack,” Mom says with both pride and sadness in her voice. “You shouldn’t have had to grow up so fast, but we can’t change that. And, over the last few months, I’ve seen what a caring, thoughtful and mature man you’ve become. I’m very proud of who you are and how you’ve handled the last year, Zack.”
There are no words. None that I can say right now anyway. I hug Mom tightly and ask her if she’ll help wrap the present. “Your crazy perfectionism comes in handy every once in a while,” I laugh and hand her the scissors.
After Mom returns from the wrapping paper closet in her craft room she settles in at the table with five different appropriate wrapping papers for me to choose from. “Pick one,” Mom demands in her happiest insistent voice.
“Hallmark has less options than you do.” But I actually spend a few minutes surveying the papers to pick the right one. I really do want everything to be perfect tonight.
When Mom cuts the paper and starts wrapping, I’m relieved she didn’t take the locket out of the box and turn it over to read the inscription I had engraved on the back. I wouldn’t have stopped her, but I would have been a little embarrassed.
Love needs no words.
You had me before you even spoke.
I would have to explain the meaning to Mom. Those wordless first meetings between Nikki and me are private— intimate, something that belongs between just us.
The gift looks beautiful. Mom spent ten minutes curling pink ribbon with the edge of the scissors to add the final finish. I grab the gift, kiss Mom once again and head upstairs to get ready.
Before I hit the top of the stairs, Mom asks, “Does she know today is…” I don’t make her finish.
“No, Mom I don’t want Nikki to know it’s Emily’s birthday. Not now. There’s no reason. It would only hurt her and spoil a day that’s important to her. So, no. I’m not telling her,” I take the last two steps up, leaving her no time to offer her thoughts.
“Enjoy your day, Zack,” Mom calls as I run out the front door a little while later. “I love you.”
“Love you too,” I shout back.
As I settle into the driver’s seat of the Charger, I turn my phone on and find five missed calls from Nikki.
Chapter 36
Nikki
I’m not really sure why I took the bus. I run more than this distance every day. I guess I wanted to look mature and professional when I arrived.
The large, old, city bus stops directly in front of Long Beach City Hall. Half the bus gets off with me. It’s just before nine and people are rushing into work at the row of office buildings that line the street. I stand staring at the building, trying to decide whether I should go in or not.
My legs tremble, I’m doubtful I can even make the few steps to the front door. I wish Zack had answered. Right about now, I’m thinking waiting for him would’ve been a better idea, but I wasn’t thinking when I answered the call. About to walk into school, I took out my phone to turn it off just as it rang. I nearly dropped the phone when the social worker told me my records had arrived and I could make an appointment to see them.
“When is the next appointment?” I asked.
“I have Tuesday the twenty-eighth at eleven.” Two weeks, I thought. I won’t sleep for that long knowing the answers are so close.
“You don’t have anything sooner?”
“We’re booked solid. Unless you can get here in a half hour. We had a cancellation this morning at nine.”
So here I am. Alone. Possibly about to find out about my sister— on our birthday. The day I’ve been anxiously anticipating for months, yet now that it’s finally here, I’m tempted to put it off. Will I view my life the same way when I walk back out today?
I almost turn around and run twice before I finally reach the door. I enter the slow moving glass revolving door, nearly forgetting to exit as it circles into the building lobby. The large gray atrium looks a lot like the many government offices I’ve entered during the last eighteen years. A few vases of plastic flowers are the only decoration to warm the bland industrial feel.
It seems like a lifetime ago I sat in the worn green pleather chairs inside the Texas government offices waiting hours for Mom to be called to reapply for food stamps or our housing vouchers. Mom always received public assistance to help raise me because of her poor health— both mental and physical. Life was hard. I understand that more now than when I lived it. But I guess that’s always the case, somehow it’s easier to look back than to see what’s right before your eyes.
I walk toward the reception desk, thinking about how much my life has changed in the last nine months. I feel guilty realizing life has changed for the better. If only it had changed like this when Mom was still here.
The receptionist is busy talking on the phone and not at all interested in looking up to greet me as I reach the desk. She knows I’m here. I saw her eyes look up just enough to spot me and ignore me just as quickly. She continues on her personal call for several more minutes leaving me standing here contemplating turning around and walking out.
Nerves keep me glued in place, I’m unable to turn and leave, yet I’m also terrified to stay. Finally, the cranky receptionist hangs up the phone and turns her eyes upon me. “Can I help you?” she says in a tone that tells me she doesn’t exactly love her job.
“I have an appointment,” I respond in a voice that is barely audible. Fear has set in.
“You and everybody else, honey. Look around. You ain’t the only one. What department?” she barks.
“Social Work. I’m here to look at some records,” I explain as if she might be listening.
She’s not. “Social Work. Sign the book and sit in the area with the orange chairs,” She points to the far right corner of the atrium.
Turning to follow her finger, I find that, while there are a dozen people sitting in the green chair area, the orange seats are bodiless. Lucky me, I guess. I head to the putrid seats and sit down. At least I’m sitting in a new color these days.