Page 49 of The Gathered Fragments of Us
Hefting myself out of bed, my bones feeling a little older than yesterday, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I think I'm going to head into work. I'd planned another day off, but I actually missed the office. There's something about having interactions with people all day that gives me energy.
Listening to the door close and the garage open, I knew Caden was on his way into work. I showered, got ready and headed downstairs. He'd left me coffee—I love coffee. Pouring it into my favorite mug, I thought back to our conversation last night: "Feels like quite the metaphor, doesn't it?" I looked at him directly. "Me, buried under your stuff. You, drinking your coffee right next to me every morning without really seeing me." He'd left my mug next to the coffee pot—Script facing out—clearly a metaphor of its own, reminding me that he is thinking differently now.
Having forgotten my heels for the day, I ran back upstairs into Caden and my bedroom. Sorting through the closet, I found my shoes and started for the door. A light blue and pink gift bagcaught my eye from Caden's nightstand though. Curiosity pulled me toward it.
The bag was from Shreve, Crump & Low—the kind of place where you don't ask for prices and that you don't go to if you have to think about them. Inside, nestled in cream-colored tissue paper, but still visible without digging into it, was a long velvet box.
I leaned back, breath caught in my throat.
Me:(Picture of bag) Is this for me?
Instead of a text back, I saw Caden's name pop up on my screen.
Swiping to answer, I said, "Hi."
"Hi." He cleared his throat. I'd um—yes first of all … yes, that is for you. It was…I was…we had—Um…"
Silence took over from there for a minute. "Caden?"
"Yes. I'm trying to figure out what to say. You see, I had this whole speech planned, but now I—well, I can't seem to remember any of it!"
This made me laugh. Caden was always so good with words—he could manage a room beautifully. His lack of words and composure was a little endearing to me.
"I know," he said. "Crazy, right?"
"A little, yeah."
"Hang up, open it, and then call me back."
"Are you sure?" I asked hesitantly. "Do you want me to wait until you get home?"
"No. I don't think I could survive the wait knowing you've seen it now."
"Okay." I hung up, laid my phone on the nightstand, and pulled out the box.
My heart did something weird in my chest and my stomach was a mass of butterflies as I opened it.
It was a locket. Long. Stunning. White gold, delicate but substantial. There was an intricate Art Deco pattern etched around the edges and diamonds filled the inside in a cross pattern. It looked like something that belonged in a museum, or at least on someone far more elegant than me. I turned it over in my palm, feeling its weight, and that's when I saw the engraving on the back: "Always Your Family—C & M" and the "Y" was interestingly shaped like a heart.
My throat tightened. C and M. Caden and Macy. A tear fell from my eye.
My fingers were trembling. I must have tried to open the locket a million times before I could control my fingers well enough. On one side was a tiny photo of the three of us from last Christmas—Macy between Caden and me. I'd made them pose for it, hoping to capture a memory to hold onto. Surprisingly, they'd gone along with my request with little to no grumbling and were good sports about it. On the other side, in the same delicate script as the back: "Forever." Then engraved around "Forever" was another heart and a smaller one entwined at the bottom of the larger one.
I sank onto the edge of the bed, the locket cradled in my hands. This wasn't just expensive. It was—I don't know…God it was more beautiful and thoughtful than any gift I'd ever received. This was meaningful. It felt like them saying they wanted to fix this, that they saw me as part of something worth preserving. The kind of gift that takes planning, that takes hope.
But as I sat there, staring at that perfect little photo, something twisted in my chest. How long had they been planning this? Was this some kind of guilt gift, or had Caden genuinely thought I deserved something beautiful? I found myself grateful that he didn't give it to me last night. It would have been difficult to keep my cool and have the conversation we had, while having this in hand. When was he going to give it to me though? Do I put it on?
Deciding to do it, I fastened it around my neck, the metal cool against my skin. In the mirror across the room, it looked like it had always belonged there. And then it began. Ugly crying. I was full on ugly crying. It dawned on me that, during this whole situation, I'd cried, and I'd cried some more. But I had not yet ugly cried. Not like this very moment. I dropped to the floor and sat there—staring into the full-length mirror—seeing myself for what felt like the first time in longer than I could remember.
Moments danced by, flying away at the cost of time—a price that was worth every second. I deserved this cry. I deserved these moments. I deserved to be seen.
I took a moment to just breathe.
I looked back at the bag on the nightstand. It sat atop a manila folder that I hadn't noticed before. I picked it up—not heavy, not light, just substantial. Flipping open the metal clasp, I pulled out the packet of documents inside.
The top page was a schedule showing three-hour blocks, one Saturday each month. For what? I flipped through the pages until I found my answer: donation paperwork from Project Place.
Holy shit. Macy and Caden had donated the purse to them.
