Page 31 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
“We wanted to… donate. And sign up. For helping,” she said, her voice pitched higher than usual, but steady.
The woman listened, nodded, then smiled—an honest, gentle smile that eased the tightness in my chest. No questions. No lecture. Just gratitude.
“Thank you. This will help.”
She passed us forms, and Macy scribbled her name with a seriousness that made me ache with pride. I signed next, folding the carbon copy neatly into the folder we were given, careful not to crease it. The original was filed away, part of something bigger than both of us.
On the way out, we stopped at a bulletin board plastered with photos—women in business suits, lined up holding certificates, some grinning so wide they looked like they’d burst. I felt Macy’s steps falter. She stood there, staring, lips parted in awe.
“Ready?” I asked softly.
She nodded. “I feel better now.”
“So do I.”
Outside, the warmth spread across the brick sidewalk. Macy hugged the folder to her chest as though it were treasure. Halfway to the car, she stopped and turned to me.
“Dad… tomorrow, can I be the one to hand her the folder?”
“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation.
The smile that bloomed across her face was unguarded, brighter than anything I’d seen from her in days. She hurried ahead, skipping once before falling back into her usual stride.
I followed; one hand pressed against the box in my jacket pocket. The cool weight of it anchored me, a reminder of the promise I was about to make. For the first time in weeks, I felt something I hadn’t allowed myself to feel.
Hope.
Chapter 15: Love Changes
~Felicity~
I'd spent yesterday relaxing at the beach and poolside. I read two books and did absolutely nothing else. It was calming. It was rejuvenating. It was mine. But time waits for no man.
I had that weird feeling in my stomach—the one you get before traveling. Sighing, I zipped up my suitcase with a quiet finality. The room was still, the way it always felt after a few days alone—bed mussed, quiet, a little too easy to leave behind. I’d wanted to make the bed out of habit but caught myself—nope. I wiped down the counters—needing to hide the evidence of makeup dust and toothpaste so housekeeping didn’t think a slob had been here. I tossed the half-used toiletries in the trash and arranged the wet towels in a pile.
I wasn’t sure if I felt rested. Maybe clearer. A little lighter. But I felt like I could almost nap at this point.
The flight home was in three hours. I’d checked in early, paid for my extra bag—annoyed as I thought back to the days when a checked bag was free—and ordered a Venti iced coffee that I pretty much guzzled. I’d probably regret that later when I had to get up and pee endlessly, but the need for coffee outweighed everything else in that moment. My phone was on Do Not Disturb, but I kept checking it anyway—like muscle memory. There were a few work emails, one from Delia asking if I was okay, and a string of messages from Kelly, who was basically narrating her day in voice memos like I was on speaker in her living room.
In the Uber on the way to the airport, I found myself looking back at Caden’s last messages about my birthday. I felt like a lifetime had passed since I spoke with him. I sent him a short one saying, "I’ll be home this afternoon." Sitting back, I downloaded my boarding pass, put my phone on airplane mode and locked it.
Going through airport security had to be the worst part of traveling. Luckily, I had Clear—but it seems like everyone else does these days too. Once I was finally at the gate, I took a breath. I found a seat near the window, plugged my phone into the outlet next to me and opened my Kindle. I couldn’t seem to concentrate though. Nothing I did let me focus on the book—no matter how hot and steamy it was. So, I sat back and closed my eyes. Meditating, praying, relaxing. Taking time to just … be.
I reflected on this past weekend. I’d had an amazing time—built memories that I never dreamed of. I met a group of women who I know I will see again. It was a unique and surprising birthday. I felt a small corner of emptiness hiding inside though. One I really didn’t know how to explain. I breezed past it though, ignoring it felt better than facing it.
The plane started boarding on time. I shoved my carry-on in the overhead and my purse under the seat. Buckled in, I smiled at the woman who slid in next to me. Gray hair, an indescribable shirt that was covered in animal print and flowers. She had a book in hand—definitely a bodice-ripper novel! She politely returned my smile and got herself situated.
As the plane filled up, a shared silence between us settled in. I listened—not really though—to the flight attendant walk everyone through the safety measures. I contemplated that, in reality, I don’t think I would actually know what the hell to do if evacuation were necessary—would I really know how to turnmy seat into a flotation device? Where was that blow-up thing again? I snickered to myself thinking if we went down, I wasn't sure it would matter. Fuck that was morbid! I actually laughed out loud at my own thoughts then.
My seat companion looked at me a little strangely but still asked "Home or vacation?"
"Home," I said. "I mean—I’m returning from vacation—well, sort of. I was here for a solo birthday trip."
Her eyes lit up. "Oh? Well, happy birthday."
"Thanks." I paused. "It was a big one."
"Let me guess. Forty?"
