Page 69 of All I Want for Christmas
I’m so sorry. It’s not our family’s strong suit to talk about difficult things—and the most difficult thing you and I could ever have talked about was being apart. When I found out in the fall that I was on my way out, that I was too old for risky heart surgery, I swore your mother to secrecy. I knew it would ruin your chances of winning STARMAKER if you were preoccupied—and although I’m sure you’d disagree, Iamthe older and wiser one in the relationship. Until the day you surpass me in age, which I sincerely hope you will do many years from now, it’s going to stay that way.
I did what I thought was right. You’ve had a year to deal with it. I hope it’s getting easier.
I’ve had a long life. And although I’ll never be ready to say goodbye to you or your mother, I can’t complain. I got to see you grow. I got to help raise you. I got to see you come close to achieving a huge dream. I believe wholeheartedly that even if I do not manage to be here to witness it, you will prevail. You will, as always, make me proud. I have no way of knowing if you will win STARMAKER, but the world has heard your voice now. The sky is the limit for you.
I hope you have forgiven your mother by now for keeping you in the dark: she was just doing what I asked. And although you think she doesn’t believe in your dreams, she wants you to be happy. She was cheering for you just as hard as I was.
Darling, I have something difficult to write to you. While I am very proud of myself for always encouraging you to chase your ambition and live without regret, thereissomething I regret. I think I may have given you a less than rosy view of romance and love. This might be an understatement. Your mother tried to protect you from any kind of heartache—and in doing that often pushed you away.Mymistake is that I pushed you toward what I hoped would be a rewarding career because I started to believe I could protect you from the kind of romantic disappointment I experienced in life, and the kind of heartache your mother went through. And although I do see that you are independent and strong, well able to stand on your own, an impressive young modern woman—well, when I saw you with Max Brody I realized it might be possible for you to have the best of both worlds. Career successanda loving relationship. Strength and independence and someone to love you for everything you are.
I know your relationship with him is complicated, and has taken place in a fishbowl, but I also know you well enough to have been able to see the real feelings between the two of you the night I came to visit. I believe Max Brody is your match—in talent, in worth, and in stubborn willfulness. But I thought I’d wait a year to tell you and see what sort of job you did figuring it out on your own. I’mwondering what sort of obstacles you two created for yourselves over the year, and what sort of obstacles the world may have created for you. But I’m hoping you at some point decided to give things with Max a true shot. And if one year later, you and Max have not made a good, honest go of things, and if this is something you are regretting—I hope that it’s not too late and my words may help lead you in the right direction. All I can do now is remind you that nothing and no one is perfect. That you are special. That Max saw that in you, and I witnessed him seeing that—and saw you seeing the same in him. The true love I sensed as a possibility between you is as rare as your beautiful voice. I’m no expert on love, but I do know it when I see it.
Speaking of true love, I love you with all my heart, and wish more than anything that things could be different than they are right now. But I’m always with you, I promise, watching you continue to chase all your dreams, believing in you always and forever. Merry Christmas, my darling.
Now, go on out there and make me proud.
Yours,
Gran
Sadie wiped away the tears that had rolled down her cheeks as she read the letter. “Oh, Gran,” she whispered. “I miss you so much.”
She felt a cold blast of wind as the lobby doors opened—and looked up to see a familiar figure walking toward her. “Mom...”
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry!”
“But, why?”
“I hate feeling so much distance between us—and now I think I’ve waited too long. I’ve been following you around for the past few days trying to think of how to fix things between us, and... well, it’s ridiculous. I’m no better than one of those paparazzi!”
“So these past few days, instead of touring Nashville, you’ve been following me around?” Sadie thought of the creeping sensation of being watched she’d had on the bridge the day before. Now it made sense. “Why didn’t you just try talking to me?”
“I knew you were busy—and I knew you were struggling. I didn’t know how to help you. I had the letter from your gran and wanted to find the right way, the right moment, to give it to you. I got it in my head that if I could find the perfect moment, maybe it would help. But today I realized there wasn’t going to be a perfect moment. I knew I just needed to get over myself and stop holding you at arm’s length—because you need me. And I need you.”
“You’re not the one who has been holding me at arm’s length. I shut you out,” Sadie said softly.
“Well, you learned from the best.” Lynn pulled Sadie in for a hug. “I really am sorry, Sadie. I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve been too afraid to treat you like an adult who can make her own choices, who knows her own heart well enough to know what she needs for her life.”
“But you were right. I can’t do this anymore. It’s time for me to come home. I’ve been chasing the wrong dream.”
“No, Sadie. I don’t believe that. You’ve done nothing but prove to me this year that you were right to chase your dreams. You’re an incredible talent, and now the world has seen it.”
Sadie shook her head. “Really, it’s fine. I’ve made mydecision. I want to come home.” She clutched the letter to her chest. “And by the way, no matter how or when this letter got to me, it’s still special, Mom. And you did manage to find the perfect moment. I’ve taken you for granted for far too long. That’s one of the things”—she swallowed hard—“that knowing Max helped me realize. I saw how much he missed his own mom, even after all this time. And losing Gran, too—it’s all made me realize that you need to hold your loved ones tight.”
“Not follow them around at a distance?” Lynn asked.
Sadie laughed. “Right, maybe not that. You didn’t need to hide, Mom. You didn’t need to do any fancy footwork to make me believe in anything. All I needed was you. And now you’re here. Which is perfect, because I need some help packing up my apartment, and I have so many things to talk to you about—and then, I want to go home. I don’t want to spend another Christmas in Nashville. We can rent a U-Haul and haul ass out of here, okay?”Sounds like a new Tasha Munroe song, she couldn’t help but think. But soon, she’d stop thinking that way, in Nashville terms.
Lynn frowned. “But what about your Grand Ole Opry performance?”
“Not happening. It’s all over.”
“Is this about Cruz McNeil and those photos?”
“It’s about Cruz in some ways, and Max, too. But mostly, it’s about me making my own decision. I don’t want this anymore.” It hurt to say it, and didn’t feel quite right. But Sadie told herself that was because it was heartbreaking to let go of a dream she’d held so long. She’d get over it, though. She’d find something else to do with her life. She could still write music, butshe could do that from Wisconsin for a while. “You’ve always been right, Mom.”
“No, I wasn’t right to ever try to hold you back.” Lynn paused, then stepped closer to her daughter. “Sadie, do you remember those text messages your gran sent you, the night...” She swallowed hard, pain in her eyes. “The night she died?”
Sadie nodded, her heart aching. “I still have them.”
