if i had, for one second considered that the weekend might offer me some or any form of respite. i had been gravely mistaken. i thought that going two entire days without having to see cosima, it could do me good. do you ever try and convince yourself of something even though you know it's a blatant lie? that was exactly what i was doing. i'd attempted to con myself into thinking that without having to see her, i might somehow find a way to stop thinking about her.
it was foolish of me. even if i would have gotten away from thinking about her, the moment i exhausted myself to sleep, my subconscious would slowly begin to slip bits and pieces of her, moments with her, into my dreams. it was unfair, to say the least. i woke up in the middle of the night, both angry and confused. i was angry because i had no control; it was the one thing i had maintained all throughout my life, even recently, and yet, she had unknowingly disarmed me of it.
i was frustrated more than anything, though i couldn't let it show. i still had a little girl to take care of and i still needed to forget my thoughts and instead enjoy her company. it was easy, once i let her silly, odd musings dominate the thoughts i continuously kept having about the librarian. sera was an easy distraction, something that pulled me into this world, to submerge me in her light. it was so easy to remember why i had fallen in love with the idea of being a mother, of having a family. it was in the small moments, in those times when she didn't have to do a thing but look at me and suddenly, i just felt… better.
it had been simple enough to distract myself with her, but she was also too sly for her own good. saturday morning, she had gotten angry with me when i let her sleep through the morning and perhaps inadvertently ensured that we would, for the first time in eighteen months, miss our saturday morning trip to the library. she was more upset with me than i think i'd ever seen before that time; she had cried and told me that i was being unfair. i hadn't realized the extent of her disdain until she had looked me square in the eye and announced that "if i didn't want to see cosima, i could have just dropped her off and left." she had stomped back to her room and tried her hardest to slam her door.
it hurt, to see how in-tune she was with me, with my emotions. i never wanted her to be that connected with me at such a young age, to be so adept at understanding me. it was terrifying. there were so many things racing through my mind as i sat down on one of the stools at the island in the kitchen and held my head in my hands. i wasn't sure what was more upsetting; the fact that she had so easily figured out that we had not gone because i wasn't sure how to deal with my reactions to cosima, or the fact that she thought i could just drop her off somewhere and not think twice about it. i was aware that it was her immature, flawed logic, but it still stung parts of me i hadn't been aware existed.
i had quickly come to the realization that i was allowing these things to get out of hand. my heart was getting the best of me and what? over a kiss? of course it wasn't just a kiss; it was something so much more than that, if for no other reason than it had completely upended my life, my thought processes, my… well, everything. i was so set on convincing myself that what i was doing, by trying to ignore and avoid the situation with cosima, was the right thing. i was convinced that sera needed me more than anything else and that i couldn't give that to her if i was distracted by trying to form another relationship. obviously, though,i was already starting to fail her by denying it.
i gave her the time she needed to cool off. every so often, i would press my ear to her door and listen as hard as i could and be relieved when i would hear her attempting to read one of the books we had gotten for her the previous weekend at the library. she must have gotten them out of her bag, which led me to the realization that cosima had most likely read them to her throughout the week. why? why was suddenly everything drawing lines, no matter how jutted or scribbled, right back to cosima. the taste of tea, the sound of sera's giggle, most certainly thinking of wine. they all connected back to her when previously, their lines had drawn nowhere at all.
after an hour, i gave the lightest of taps on seraphina's door and was not surprised when there was no answer. i gave another tap, closing my eyes as i pressed my forehead to the door frame. "ma belle chérie, veuillez ouvrir la porte." my words were soft and my tone was pleading; i just wanted to talk to her. there was a hesitation, but after a moment i could hear her tiny feet padding across the carpet. the handle rattled and slowly turned, followed by her gently pulling the door open. i glanced down to see her staring back up at me. her eyes were no longer red, but there were still a few paths down her cheeks where tears she had not wiped at had dried on her skin.
"i'm sorry, maman," she whimpered quietly as she buried her face in my thigh, hugging my leg so unbearably tight. i tilted my head up toward the ceiling and tried to choke back the emotion that was welling up in my chest and throat. reaching down, i gently pried her arms off of my leg and lifted her up into my arms. as i ran my hand over her tousled blonde hair, i forced a smile. "i did not mean to be so red." my face softened at her words; we had a color system, one that helped her express her emotions when screaming and crying was not acceptable. green was, of course, happy. yellow, it meant that she was upset and needed her space. red, though, was reserved for anger and the fact that she had been angry with me was enough to cause an ache to form in my chest.
i carried her into my room and sat down on the bed, still holding her tightly in my arms. as she looked up at me with so many unspoken questions in her eyes, she touched my face. her mouth turned down at the edges and there was worry sparkling dully in her eyes. "what is it, papillon?" i asked her quietly. her fingers splayed delicately over my cheeks and i could not refrain from turning my head to kiss her palm.
"why are you scared, maman?" my eyes widened and i felt like i had swallowed a match. my mouth was dry and i was, yet again, taken aback by her realm of comprehension. i was struggling again, trying to find an answer that i couldn't begin to compile.
"because i don't want to let you down." my answer was vague and weak, at least it would be to her, but i knew just how accurate it was. i didn't want to let her down, and i didn't want to let michel down. how could i become to enraptured with someone else when i swore he was the one i'd spend my life with? i could have sworn by the statement and yet, there i was, in a crisis of conscience because it was coming to my attention that i was feeling things, thinking things, that i did not want to profess.
the rest of the day, sera and i had made lunch and watched movies, staying curled up in my bed. we had nowhere else to be, and it was always nice having those lazy days full of her laughter and the way she would cuddle into my side. nothing could have been made it better, or at least that was what i told myself at the time. she had fallen asleep some time after eight and i had decided to let her stay where she was, in bed with me. it would be the perfect thing to wake up to on a sunday morning that was supposed to be filled with storms.
somewhere throughout the night, i'd found myself unable to sleep. initially, i'd just stared at her in awe, replaying the events of the day through my head. i was letting this tread onto the edge of the relationship i had with my daughter, and that left me with so many mixed emotions. i wanted to be objective, to draw boundaries but the very opposite was becoming incredibly clear. there wasn't a single way in the world i could draw those boundaries or see things in a rational light.
i climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb my sleeping toddler, and made my way into the walk-in closet. as i flipped on the light, my gaze lingered on the now-barren side, the side that had belonged to michel. it had become simple enough, to stuff down the tears, but i knew that was, most likely, not going to be possible this time. i reached above where my blouses and jackets hung and moved a few things out of the way, finding a wooden box that i had tucked there the day after michel's death. i, to that day, hadn't looked inside of it, but it was the one piece of him i had left and foolishly, i thought perhaps it would offer me some clarity. pulling it down and glancing at the perfectly finished top, i couldn't have fathomed just how much clarity it would give. i sat down on the soft carpet, my eyes fluttering shut as i set the box down in my lap, my legs folded over one another.
my hands trembled above the lid, second guessing every inclination i had to pull it off. i knew what was inside; it was just some of his best ties and several sets of his cuff links. so then where was my apprehension coming from? inhaling slowly through my nose, i found my resolve and pulled it off. as i looked down into the box, though, there was something i had not been expecting. it was an envelope, almost looking brand new, and it had my name written across it in his neat scrawl. my stomach lurched and i silently willed my body not to get sick. after a few long, slow breaths, i could feel my stomach settle. what i had not realized, though, until i saw the droplets on the envelope, smudging the ink, was that i had started crying.
with my hands trembling far harder than they had been before, i picked up the letter and clasped it tightly to my chest. just from being with his things, it smelled like him and it caused my heart to squeeze. slowly and meticulously, i opened the envelope and pulled out the pieces of paper that had been inside. my heart was beating so hard against my ribs that it could have given a drumline a run for its money. nothing could have prepared me for the next six and a half minutes it took me to read the letter.
my dearest delphine,
if you have found this, you are probably reaching the last of my things to donate or get rid of. do not worry, i do not blame you. lord knows if i were in your position, it would be so incredibly difficult for me to live with so many traces of you looming around. i know how hard it would be for me to have to look seraphina in the eyes and know you were not on this earth anymore. i understand.
the point of this letter is not to make you feel guilty. in fact, it is quite the opposite. you know, you asked me, the night i proposed to you, as we were laying in bed and watching the stars through the skylight, if i believed in soulmates. you never answered your own question, and i think that was because you didn't know it. perhaps that was why you were asking me, because you needed the answer to my query to help derive your own opinions. i had laughed and i still remember how dejected you looked, and how terrible i felt for making you feel that way. i smiled at you and kissed your forehead before i gave you my response. 'i believe that we're bound to love who we love. our love may blossom, it may wilt, and we may see it grow in other gardens. we should not limit ourselves to where we can spread that beauty.'
you may wonder why i'm reminding you of this. you may be upset with me because i am gone and still trying to teach you life lessons. i am not sure how long it will take you to open my box, let alone this letter, and i can not claim to have any foreknowledge of what may come into yours and sera's lives, but the inevitable will happen. you, with your bright smile and beautiful eyes, will undoubtedly charm someone else, maybe without even trying to. you will worm your way into another heart, just like you did to mine, and you will find a home there. who knows if it will happen tomorrow, or if it will happen in ten years as sera is begging for a cell phone and more make up than i personally would know what to do with. the point is, it will happen.
i know you, so well in fact, that i know you will fight this with every ounce of who you are. i know you will feel bad, that your heart will want one thing while your mind is begging for another. you cannot yield on my behalf. you know as well as i do that living a life without love? what is the point? all i'm asking is that when you find that heart, the place to make your new home, make sure it lies within someone who will do what i could not, who will love sera as much as i would have, and who loves you just as much. if you can find that, if you can find someone with that much feeling in their bones and in their heart, then i want you to plant those seeds, to see how beautiful that garden can be. do not be afraid, no matter how much your mind tries to tell you to. embrace what could grow, if you nurture it enough.
i want nothing for the best for you and for seraphina. don't deny yourself that, should the time ever come.
with love,
michel.
by the end of the first paragraph, i had completely surrendered to my will to keep from crying. i had not expected to find this blatant of an answer, something that had been waiting so readily in my own closet. i had also not expected for michel to ever know that i could be in this position. who was i kidding, though? he knew me better than anyone, or at least he had. maybe he had known, from the very first day we had found out about his diagnosis, that this moment was perpetually inevitable.
maybe sera had not gotten her powers of perception from cosima in recent days at all. no, she had very obviously gotten them from her father. i wiped at my face and sniffled softly, delicately folding his letter back up and putting it in the envelope. i still found tears sneaking down my cheeks as i placed the letter in the top drawer of my dresser and glanced over at the sleeping angel nestled into my pillows. michel was right, even beyond the constraints of life and death. i owed it not only to sera, but to myself, to stop feeling so guilty about the way i was feeling. the only thing ignoring it was going to do was hurt everyone involved, and he last thing i ever wanted was to see that look in sera's eyes ever again.
we used the majority of sunday for more constructive things, like painting and learning new words. by the time monday was upon us, i had promised myself that i would find some resolve in the way i had left things friday evening. i would attempt to fix things, but in my own time. as we made our way up the walk to cosima's front door, the hand that wasn't lightly clutching sera's was clammy and my stomach was knotted up. i knocked three times and stepped back, pressing my lips together. for now, i would tell her not to apologize, and not to worry. i would tell her that we would talk that evening. she opened the door and despite the fact that my brain almost went blank, i knew i had to start somewhere.
"bonjour, cosima."