I am so sorry for the delay in this update.. boy when writers block hits, it sure does hit. Have been back and fourth on this chapter for what feels like forever. I've always had a very clear plan for where this fic is going, and I know exactly what I want to write, but every time i've come to write this chapter it's never come out in a way I've been happy with. So i've been ignoring it. But today, I finally had a few solid, uninterrupted hours to work on it, and I think i've finally managed to get myself and this story back on track! Thank you for much for all your support and wonderful reviews on previous chapters, and for being patient with me while I figured out the writing mess in my head (i've started re-watching LTM, which might be the reason i've finally gotten over the writers block)!
The weeks pass slowly, and with them the feelings that she has created within us both with her package. We were ok for the first few days after 'the manual' had arrived. Somehow, just having that piece of her in our home made it seem like she was still here. Like she was still with us. Her sense of humour and caring nature more evident than ever, allowing her to take hold of my heart and easing the pain her loss is causing every time I catch a glimpse of 'the manual' which has taken centre stage on the mantle piece in the living room, next to the picture of her and Em that I had retrieved from her home. But the laughter and warmth that had begun to ware down the edges of the darkness neither of us have been able to escape since she left us, and pointed us to a place where we were able to grieve and live together once more didn't last long. And with every day that passes without another piece of her puzzle, another small piece of her, we both retreat back into ourselves and the bleak world that we exist in without her colour to brighten it.
Wallowski avoids me every chance she gets. She walks in the opposite direction, creating a distance when I can't help but watch her face, instead of focusing on the next case that should be holding my attention. She feels me staring. Feels my eyes burning as I search her for any clue I might find on her surface. She puts up with it for the first week or so. Allows me to study every inch of her, looking for any part of Gill and her plan, that might be escaping. But she holds her ground, her mask hiding whatever part is to come next. And when my glare doesn't let up, then she takes a few steps back. She doesn't disappear properly, because her leaving isn't part of Gill's plan. But she does create some distance. Starts working out of her office at the station a few hours of the day, instead of housing herself in the walls of the group, just for a moment of rest bite from the constant and unrelenting questions and accusations that I know are burning behind my eyes. I want to be able to offer her some relief myself. Want to be able to turn in the opposite directions, and not follow her every move. Want to not make her cringe under the silent demands I can feel firing out of me. I want to keep the promise I made to myself in the grave yard. I want to try. I really do. I want to be able to allow her to live and work as herself, and not as the slave to my emotions Gill seems to have made her. But I can't. I can't look at her and see anything other than the plan that Gill has put in place. Can't look at her and see anything but everything I do not know. Everything that I need to know. Everything that she knows, and has known for longer than I can stomach. She knows what comes next and it's slowly killing me. Destroying the fragments of me that are not already lost in the black that has taken over my life. She has all the pieces of my Gillian that are left in this world, and she is keeping them from me. Keeping them locked away until who knows when. And I understand why. I guess. She's doing it for Gill. Keeping her promise and doing this Gill's way. But that doesn't mean I have to like it. I've always been impatient. Always needed to know everything in the shortest of time frames. And this is a million times worse. Because this time, I am not waiting on the truth of a stranger, but rather the truth of the only person I ever should have been listening for. This time, I am not waiting on the truth of a stranger, but rather the only truth that ever should have mattered. So, while I want to understand and allow Wallowski space to breath, I can't. She has all of Gill that there is, and she's keeping her from me.
Well, keeping her from us. Because after the reaction that 'the manual' and this heart-breaking, yet painfully beautiful, plan she has put in place got from our sweet Em, I know this was never just about me. I know that these packages, or gifts, or whatever it is they are, were never just indented for me never. Never just about easing my pain. I know by the small glimmer of hope that Emily felt, by the small glint that returned to her ever if just for a few moments, that Gill never intended to just guide me through this difficult time. She was thinking about Emily and what her loss would do to her, just as much as she was thinking about me and my grief, as she went about her final days without us. And of course she was. Because it's Gill and it's Em, and the way the loved each other is beyond something even I can understand.
But that doesn't stop the surprise that jolts through me when the next package to be delivered is not addressed to me as I had expected it to be, but rather to Emily herself. I find it on the doorstep, when I go for the morning paper, the day that Em's college acceptance letters arrives. A day that so many high school graduates and their families have been waiting for. A day that Em had marked on Gill's calendar months ago, right after she'd applied to her chosen colleges. She's jumped around Gill's office, excited as hell at the thought of the day when she would find out which college she would be heading too. "I'm putting it on your calendar Gill", Em had sung as she grabbed a pen and marked the date. "So you don't forget", she'd finished dramatically, before throwing her bag over her shoulder and shouting a 'love you' as she disappeared down the corridor. I'd stared after Em long after she had disappeared out of view, my mind wandering back to a time when she had needed me for even the most basic of things. I was so lost in the memories of Em's tiny little fingers letting go of mine as she took her first steps away from me, that it wasn't until I felt Gill's fingers running down my arm that I remembered where I was, and turned to face her. Her eyes were soft, with a small smile pulling the corners of her mouth upwards. "You know Cal", she'd started as her delicate fingers continued their journey up and down my arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake, "Just because she's excited, doesn't mean she isn't going to miss you". She'd tilted her head, as she watched her words sink in. As she watched my face with such intent I had almost felt see-through, which truth be told I felt most of the time that she looked at me. I don't know what it is she saw on my face, but her smile grew and a laugh had escaped her throat. "Let her be excited Cal", she'd said as she turned on her heal and headed towards the door of her office, "If you think about it, it really is exciting".
And she was right, of course. Going to college is exciting. Daunting, and scary and a million other things for both kids and their parents, but exciting too. And the day those letters arrive telling you which school you're in too, well that day is at the centre of all that excitement. It's a day that should have been at the forefront of both mine and Em's minds, but that had escaped us both while we tried, and mostly failed, to battle through a life without Gill. But of course, Gill being who she was, it had not slipped her mind. She had remembered, exactly as Em had wanted her too. I'm stunned for a few moments, that even with everything that she had clearly been going through, that this momentous occasion hadn't slipped her mind. But I shouldn't be, not really. There's nothing about Em's life that Gill could ever forget. There's nothing about Em, period, that Gill would allow herself to forget. Not even while she was battling with her own mortality in a way no one should ever deal with the impending loss of life; alone.
It's a bigger box this time. Far bigger than the previous one that had held 'the manual'. It's wrapped in a beautiful silver paper that is shimmering in the early morning sunlight. The way the light bounces off it, casting patterns of light across the porch, reminds me of the way the sun used to bounce off Gill's skin. Cases that had us working through the night, and into the break of a new day, were always my favourite for one simple reason: I got to watch her come alive under the rise of the sun. The way it would dance across her face, creating a beauty like no other right before my eyes, is a memory I will hold dear until time itself stands still. There's a pink tag holding Em's name in Gill's perfect script, signalling who the package is for. But I don't need to see her name to know this gift isn't for me. It's the same wrapping that every gift Gill has ever given Em has been wrapped in, so it's abundantly clear that this is all about Em.
It's propped at the side of the front door, with the college letters place carefully on top. I can't help the smile that creeps onto my face at the level of planning I know this particular situation will have required. About how much effort she must have gone to, in order to for Wallowski to pull this all together. How much time she must have spent finding out which address Em had chosen to have the letters sent to. A shudder courses through my body at the thought of what might have happened had the letter's been destined for Zoe's mailbox and not mine, but I quickly push it away. She would never have bought Zoe into this. I know that, and so I know that this package was always meant for my doorstep. It may be addressed to Emily, but it's indirectly for me aswell. Her knowing that I would take comfort in her love for Em. So even if the letters had been headed for Zoe's, she would have accounted for it. Found a way to make it work with the package and the letter's arriving separately. But, it's definitely better this way.
I reach down to retrieve the package and the letters, and I can't help the small laugh that escapes from the back of my throat at the though of Wallowski having to drag herself out of bed and over here. Of her having to wait for the mail man, and then rummage through the mail box in order to have the letters ready and waiting with the package, all before either myself or Em were awake. And all on Gill's orders. Because I have absolutely no doubt that Gill will have given the step-by-step instructions of exactly when and how this gift needed to be presented. Good girl Gill, I can't help thinking. Make her run around for you.
"Em, get down here", I shout up the stairs as I kick the door shut behind me and make my way to the living room, armed with another piece of the puzzle. I throw myself down on the couch, making sure to do no damage to the beautifully wrapped package. I took so much from the paper that held the first pieces of Gill I got back, and I know that Em will do the same.
"Em", I shout louder. I know she heard me the first time, but she's slipping back into ignoring me more often than not, and so I shout again throwing my voice with more urgency and a tone of curiosity I know she will pick up on, in the hopes of enticing her from her bed and down the stairs. I take in my surroundings as I listen to the thud of Em's feet as they hit the floor above my head. My eyes land upon the picture and 'manual' on the mantel piece and I realise I'm seated in the exact spot as I was all those weeks ago when I first let Em in on what little I knew about what Gill had it store for us. I still have no new information, despite all my efforts to get Wallowski to let something slip, but the arrival of a new package refuels the hope I had felt back in the graveyard. There's been a long wait between the first and the second of her gifts, but now that the second has arrived, I can relax some what. It might be happening a lot slower than I would like, but it is happening. She's still giving herself to me. To us. It's just going to happen on her time scale, rather than mine.
"What?", Em throws at me as she stomps her way past the living room and into the kitchen. I hear the clattering of china against metal as she moves around the space. I smile into the noise, relishing in the fact that there are some things that even grief cannot change. Smile into the fact that, despite everything, my usually charming daughter always has monster-like qualities before her first coffee of the day. 'Just like Gill' flashes through my mind before I can stop it. The similarities between them still stun me, even now.
"There's mail here for you, love", I reply. I try to make it sound as casual as I can, but even I can't control the way my voice pitches with emotion at the mention of what's in front of me.
"You dragged me down here for mail?" Her voice is filled with annoyance at being removed from the hell-like sanctuary her bedroom has become. But there's curiosity too. She heard the change in my voice, and she wants to know what's caused it. But the look on her face as she rounds the door, her eyes already searching the room, lets me know that she already suspects what the mail is.
"No love", I respond quietly, my tongue sitting heavy in my mouth as I struggle over the next words. She eyes me suspiciously, waiting on the rest of my sentence. My fingers grip the box, as I lift it up from the floor and into Em's line of sight. I give it a gentle shake, before extending the package out to her and continuing.
"No love", I repeat, "Not me. This time, it was Gill".
Thanks so much for reading, and again i'm super sorry about how long it took me to give you the next part of this story. I hope you all found it worth the wait, and if not i'm super sorry about that too! Thank you for sticking with me, and I promise it will not be anywhere near as long to wait for the next chapter!