Page 82 of Lily In The Valley
The next morning,I woke up later than I meant to. Karter was curled up next to me, snoring soft little huffs. Vanessa’s spot on the bed was empty. I picked up my phone, seeing her message and a few missed calls.
Nessa Boo
Headed to the studio. Call me when you get up.
Eventually, I made it to my childhood desk. It still had the faint pink shimmer nail polish stain from when I was thirteen. I swore I grew up to be a beauty guru. The top drawer squeaked when I opened it and there, nestled in the back corner, was the letter. The envelope was thick, luxury cardstock. My name scribbled on the front. My mother’s handwriting. I stared at it for a full minute before I picked it up.
I didn’t know what to expect–something angry, maybe. Something stoic. A last lesson. But it was... tender. Honest. Like her voice was echoing right over my shoulder.
To my sweet Kelly-girl,
If you’re reading this, it means you’ve done something I should’ve done a long time ago. Find a love so pure and soft and sweet, you don’t know what to do with it. I won’t pretend I’ve been the best example. I stayed too long in something that didn’t pour into me, and I wore my regret like armor, thinking it was strength. I forced you to watch me shrink inside myself, calling it love. I’m so sorry, my sweet girl.
But I’m writing this letter to let you know, I see you. Even when you think I don’t. I admire your brilliance, your confidence, even when the world asked too much of you too soon. It makes me feel like I’ve done something right. However, you deserve a mother who leads with her whole heart, not just the pieces she thinks are acceptable. I’m still learning how to be her, if only for you.
What I know now, and what I need you to believe, is that love shouldn’t feel like labor. You’re not supposed to fight to earn it. You shouldn’t fold yourself or carry it alone. The love I want for you, and hope you’ve found, is a gentle, quiet confidence. It’s someone who sees your storms–you know the ones you work so hard to hide, but Mommy knows best– and chooses to stay anyway.
At this point in time, I don’t know who this man is, but I have my suspicions. I see the way he looks at you whenever we visit MawMaw. I get tickled watching the way your face soften when you talk to him, even when you hit him with some sassy remark. Oh, and that little nickname he gave you, “Lily-Girl.” Too cute. Okay, I’m done.
My sweet girl, wherever life takes, my hope is this. Choose softness, even when it scares you. Let someone hold you, not for what you do, but for who you are. You are enough and more. You always were from the moment I knew you were coming into my life.
I love you. Fully. Fiercely. Always.
Mommy
I didn’t remember crying. Just the sound of my breath shaking in the quiet room. Then the creak of the door. My father stood in the doorway. I turned, the letter shaking in my hand. “She wrote me a letter.”
He nodded. “I remember when I walked in on her, Viv, and Lisa doing that. You must’ve been around twelve or thirteen.”
I clutched it to my chest. “I don’t want to be broken anymore.”
He walked over, knelt beside me, and took my hands into his. “You’re not broken, baby girl,” he said. “You’re just a little bruised. And tired. But never broken.”
“I don’t know what to do with all this pain.” I used the sleeve of my hoodie to wipe the tears from my eyes.
“You start by not holding it by yourself.”
I looked down.
“I found somebody for you to talk to,” he said. “Tell me you’ll go?”
I nodded slowly.
I didn’t argue.
The office smelledlike eucalyptus and something earthy I couldn’t place. The walls were painted in warm browns and soft creams. A large window opened up to a garden full of sage and lavender. There was a faint hum in the air, like the room was still breathing even when I wasn’t.
Her name was Ms. Reece.
She was in her fifties, maybe sixties. Dark skinned. Freshly pressed silver hair swooped over her forehead, curly and waving down her shoulders. A caftan that looked like it told stories. She didn’t stand when I walked in. Just smiled.
“Welcome, baby,” she said, like we’d met in a dream. “What brings you in today?”
“I need to get clearance so I can go back to work.”
“Okay, straight to the point, I see.” She looked me over, her eyes narrowing, a tight smile gracing her lips. “Why else are we here today?”
“I’m tired of feeling nothing and everything.”
