CHAPTER TWENTY
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Pulling one of the cushions from the huge bin on the roof I sit down, leaning against the wall. Simply holding the letters in my hands makes me feel closer to my parents. Easily telling which one of them was more into writing the letters the envelope from my mother is twice the thickness of the one from my father.
Lifting the flap on the back of the thinner envelope the entire contents is 13 pages, one a year from my birth till the year they died. Each has been marked with the year it was written in the top corner.
Picking the first one up I check the date, it's marked as June 3rd. The entire letter is only one line, two sentences.
June 3. Today I found out I'm going to be a father. Wow.
Flicking through them all I see each one is barely a paragraph or two long.
Reading through the letters slowly the short sentences that jump out at me make me laugh, the one written the day I was born brings a smile to my face.
December 25. The love in my life doubled today, you arrived as most people were sitting down for their Christmas dinners.
Random other lines, where he'd written that I'd discovered a love of cooking shortly after my 6th birthday, the disastrous birthday cake I'd tried to make him the year I was 8 and grabbed the salt instead of sugar. The year I turned 10 and decided I didn't like my hair and cut it all off. Laughing as I set the last one down, written a few weeks before the accident it's almost the same as the rest, I can almost hear my father's voice in the words he wrote.
January 2. Your birthday this year was subdued. Clay couldn't come which lead to you sulking in your room most of the day. He's bringing his family out in a few months for a surprise visit to see you; I hope you love them as much as you love him.
The visit, Clay and Gemma's honeymoon, had never happened. A little over a month later I was an orphan being sent across the country. The most unfortunate thing I find about that is that I do love Clay's family as much as I love him, his step-son I love more than I would have imagined I was able to.
Folding the letters and putting them back into the envelope I sit it down beside me, the ones from my mother still on my lap. Lifting the envelope up I open the back and pull the pages out.
Hearing a noise from beside me I look up and into Jax's eyes "You okay babe?"
Nodding at him I smile, the stretching of my lips slightly melancholic "I'm okay, it's funny though. Daddy was never a big one for showing emotions but he had this way of surrounding you in the knowledge you were loved."
Jax hoists himself over the ledge and sits beside me, pulling me to his side "You don't talk about them much."
I shrug, wiggling a little closer to his body "I guess I don't cause it makes me sad to think about them not being here."
Jax reaches over and squeezes my hand "Babe they are here though." Lifting my head he looks down at me and smiles "Your mom is in your eyes, your dad is in your smile. The best parts of them are in you, and you carry them in your heart with you every day. From what I do know about them they loved you more than anything. You won't forget them and you won't forget the love they had for you."
"I know that I'll always remember them, maybe once a year I have an off day. Today will be it for the year." Smiling up at him I know the gesture looks a little happier.
Jax kisses my forehead softly before getting to his feet "We're about to sit down for a while, come inside when you're ready?"
I nod and squeeze his fingers lightly "Nothing's going wrong? It's not normal for you guys to go to Church on a Thursday."
Jax shakes his head "Nah it's all good babe."
"Okay." I can see the slight uncertainty in his eyes but choose to ignore it, he'll tell me if and when I need to know.
Jax disappears back down the ladder and I look back down at the pages on my knee.
The top of the page of my mother's writing is dated the same date as the one from my father, the script of 03 June. The first letter it split into several chunks, each only a paragraph under a different date, filling 4 pages.
03 June
My darling child,
Today your father and I discovered that you were going to be arriving in 6 short months. It seems years of prayers for a child have finally been answered. You're loved with immense amounts already and you have yet to take your first breath.
Love, Mommy
12 July
My darling child,
Today we were told you're expected to be with us in the middle of December. I'm counting the days. Your father has already brought and put together a crib for you, taking it apart 5 times before he was certain it was correctly assembled.
Love, Mommy
8 August
My darling child,
The amount of things we've brought for you is amazing, crib, car seat, changing table, clothes, dresser, diapers, books and toys and we still have 4 months till your arrival. We have a calendar in the kitchen where we've marked off each day. Your due on December 17th.
Love, Mommy
28 September
My darling child,
The third trimester, you've started moving like you should be a football player, or the way my insides feel perhaps hockey would be better, I'm sure my organs are black and blue by now. I'm loving every second of it.
Love, Mommy
2 October
My darling child,
A little over two months to go. I no longer fit any of my clothes and I am still loving every second of it. Your father thinks you will be a boy after a particularly violent kick he received to his kidneys last night; I'm not making any guesses. As long as you are healthy that is all that matters to me.
Love, Mommy.
29 November
My darling child,
Less than 3 weeks to go now. Your father thinks I'm strange that I write something for you each month. My insistence to him of writing something when I told him ended up with a paragraph. He has promised he will write something once a year, I am grateful for that. We discussed the letters and decided that we will continue to do a letter per year and give them to you when you turn 18.
Love, Mommy
19 December
My darling child,
I'm now 2 days over the date you were expected. Your father jumps at every noise, the hospital bag is beside the front door and during one of his 'reactive brain farts' (his words not mine) he ended up in the car and at the end of the street before he realised that I was still sitting on the sofa. Let's hope he doesn't continue his forgetfulness.
Love, Mommy
Very late at night 24 December, in fact it may be 25 December
My darling child,
We're anxiously awaiting your arrival, my water has yet to break, but I have been having contractions, very mild ones, for almost 3 hours.
Love, Mommy
26 December
My Darling Daughter,
You arrived at 1208pm yesterday, a wonder with a set of lungs that could make a deep sea diver proud. Your father and I have named you Sarah Gretchen, in years to come you will probably hate your name, but your grandmothers were strong women and I'm sure you will carry their names with the same strength they did.
Love, Mommy
The next letter is dated a full year later and flicking through the other pages I find each of them is the same, all dated between the December 26 and January 2.
Each letter from my mother is almost the same, telling me a short story about something I had done that year, marking milestones in my development. The year I turned 5 there's a badly sketched image of my school logo. Reading Mom's account of my meeting with Clay is funny, it's written almost exactly how I'd been told, the only addition was that I tried to feed Clay while he was attempting to give me lunch. The last letter is similar to the one from Daddy as well, the mention of Californian visitors to come and the hope that I'll get on with their son who's only a year older than I am.
Running my hand over the pages I lean back again, sitting in silence for a while, the lot is almost silent and glancing down at my watch I realise why. It's almost 630; the garage is closed for the night, all the mechanics have gone home. Shoving the letters back into the envelope I descend the ladder as quick as I can, my feet landing on the pavement as the office door opens.
Gemma sticks her head out and calls me over "Abel's in here baby, they guys are still inside."
I head in her direction, pulling the door open and stepping through it "Sorry Gem. I didn't mean to drop him on you and run."
Gemma laughs and shakes her head "its fine. He's been a good boy. But he's out of bottles now."
The one that he's just finished by the look of his sleepy eyes would have been the third of the ones I packed that morning. Nodding at her I pick him up and walk around the office slowly "Did Jax tell you who that guy was and what he wanted?"
Gemma nods "Yeah, something about more stuff from your folks?"
"Yeah, letters and more inheritance that I don't want." I sit down on the sofa, curling Abel's blanket around him a little tighter in the slightly chilly room "It was weird seeing things they'd wrote to me. Mom intended on writing me a letter a year till I was 18 and giving them to me then. I guess I wonder why I wasn't given them when I turned 18."
Gemma shrugs, turning off her computer and the desk lamp, dropping her glasses to the desk with a sigh "You may have to ask."
Shaking my head I look down at Abel's sleeping face "No, its better that they came now. At 18 I wouldn't have read them. The trusts being released made me mad at them again for dying. Now, I guess I'm more relaxed. I still hate it that they're dead, I'm still upset that they don't get to see things but I realised that no amount of hate, anger, sadness or me feeling upset is going to bring them back."
Gemma crosses to me, sitting down beside me and curling her arm around my shoulders "Have you considered going back to Palm Beach? Reconnect with the memories."
Shaking my head I rest my temple on her shoulder "No. There really isn't any point of going back. There's nothing there but ghosts."
Gemma runs her hand over my hair softly "You know you can always talk to Clay about your folks. He didn't know your Mom well but I know he has some stories about your Dad."
I lean back and smile up at her "I know."
The door beside us opens and Jax leans in "We're all done if you're ready to go babe. Ma, Clay's gonna be over in a minute."
Gemma nods, getting to her feet and helping me up. Jax lifts the car seat off the floor and carries it over to the truck, waiting beside me while I lower Abel into it. His eyelids barely flutter when I click the belts around him. Closing the door softly I step back and spot my Nitro in the corner "When are you going to get around to that baby. I really would like my truck back."
Jax runs his hand over his face "I'm not sure. Next week probably, there was a bit of a backlog from our trip and Ma's trying to get everything in out of the way before we have to go again."
Walking around the truck he follows me, waiting till I'm settled in the seat with my belt on before closing the door "Jax, if she needs you guys here you can stay."
Jax shakes his head, planting both hands on the open window frame "Not happening. Al has to go, D won't let you go without her and neither Juice nor Ope will let them leave the state without them. And if you think that I'm letting you go alone I'd better go ring the men with the white coats."
I laugh "I like those coats, they let me hug myself."
Jax shakes his head and steps back from the truck with a chuckle "See you at home."