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My cell phone vibrated at seven o’clock the next morning, waking me from my restless sleep. I groaned, fumbled around, and finally grabbed it off the bedside table. Glancing at the display, I smiled. I should have known it was Kelsey. She was the only person brave enough to call me this early in the morning.
As a stay-at-home mom of four boys under the age of six, she was up before the sun, usually calling me on the verge of child-induced insanity. She loved her boys more than life itself, but they kept her hopping. I loved the stories she told me; how Ethan and Harry put frogs in her bed, or how she found Randall and Oliver on top of the refrigerator eating peanut butter nearly every morning. I envied the happy, domestic life she shared with her husband, Daniel, a defense lawyer. In my opinion, she had it all. It was the sort of life I’d dreamed about sharing with Sam once upon a time.
“Morning, Kel,” I mumbled into the phone, trying to sound more awake than I felt.
“Hey, honey. I waited as long as I could to call, but I’ve been thinking of you since yesterday. How’s it going?” Kelsey’s voice was a balm to my very irritated soul.
“How you probably imagine it would be going. You know my mom....” I rolled my eyes and sat up in bed, propping myself on the pillows behind me.
“She’s still that bad, huh? I thought she might have mellowed out a little, since she’s sick.” I heard dishes clinking on the other end of the phone and knew that she was probably doing two million other things while she talked to me. The woman did more before the sun came up than I did all day.
My best friend was a little bundle of energy. Her tiny stature, wild brown curls, and laughing green eyes had won me over in kindergarten. Since the day we met, she was the one person who’d always had my back. I distinctly remember the first day of school. I’d been shy, anxious, and afraid of everyone. When recess rolled around, the rest of the class ran happily onto the playground, gravitating into little groups. I stood next to the building, wringing my hands in fear. I was afraid to be alone, but even more afraid to try and make a friend.
At the age of five, I was already stressed out about life in general. I was just about to burst into tears when a little girl with bouncy brown corkscrew curls asked my name. Something about her sweet face and happy energy put me at ease. She grabbed my hand and told me we were going to be best friends forever. She was right.
When Kelsey and her parents moved into the vacant house next door, it was almost too good to be true. Her parents were the kind I dreamed of having. They seemed to know that my life at home wasn’t a happy one, so they took me into the fold and included me in their little family. The time I spent with the Norwoods was the closest thing I had to a normal family life.
Kelsey was my rock and my champion. I honestly didn’t know where I would be if it weren’t for her. She’d been my surrogate mother, father, and sister. I always went to her for guidance, and even though we’d lived thousands of miles apart for all of our adult lives, our hearts were inseparable. Now that I was back in Washington, we could see each other more often. So far, that was the only benefit I could see in this dreadful situation.
“Hope, are you there?” Kelsey prodded me, bringing me back to the present.
“Sorry, I was daydreaming. To answer your question, my mom has not mellowed out. Being sick has made her worse, if that’s even possible. It will be a miracle if we don’t kill each other within the first week.” I rolled out of bed and stretched as I walked to the window. It was a foggy morning, the mist rolling in from the sea. Cool, foggy mornings at the beach were my favorite.
“Well, you’re just going to have to hang tough. You are there to help your mom, so that’s what you’re going to do. She needs you, and you need her... even though neither of you knows it yet.” She spoke gently, knowing those words were not what I wanted to hear.
“My mom has made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t need or want me here. As for my needing her, I passed that point years ago.” The bitterness in my voice was apparent; I couldn’t conceal it if I tried, but there was no reason to. Kelsey knew me better than anyone. “Anyhow, let’s change the subject. When are you coming to visit?”
“I’m making plans to do it soon. Everything has to be strategically arranged or the world as I know it will fall apart. I have to line up Daniel’s parents to come and stay with the boys for a couple of days while he’s at work, map out charts and schedules, fix a year’s worth of meals.... It’s a major event if I leave town, which is why I never do. Don’t worry, though, I’m on it.” She laughed at all the details she had to work out before she could get away.
“You better be. I need you here,” I responded playfully, but the truth was that I really did need her. I was having serious doubts about my ability to see this through.
“I’ll get there just as soon as I possibly can. Gotta go, Hope. Ethan just clogged the toilet with a rubber duck... words I never thought I’d say. I’ll talk to you soon. Love you—” Kelsey’s voice cut off midsentence.
I hung up the phone, feeling very much alone. I had no idea if my mom was still at home, or if she had already left for the day. Since she’d been wearing scrubs yesterday, I assumed she was still working. She was obviously very sick. I knew she would have to quit work soon. Once she started chemotherapy, she would be too weak to work.
There were so many questions I had about her illness. I didn’t even know who her doctor was, or if there was an actual plan of action. The only information I had to go on was what Helen told me when she called—that my mom had cancer. My mom and I needed to talk and sort out the situation, but as usual, I really just wanted to avoid the uncomfortable scenario for as long as possible.
I dug through my suitcase, choosing comfy jeans and an old sweater. From the look of the clouds outside, I knew it would be cold; I’d already decided to begin my day with a walk on the beach. I pulled my long hair into a ponytail, didn’t bother with makeup, brushed my teeth in the adjoining bathroom, and wandered downstairs.
There was no sign of Mom. Her purse and keys were gone, and so was her car. If she wasn’t at work, she’d simply gotten up early to avoid me. Either way, she wasn’t there. I toasted a bagel while I brewed a mug of steaming coffee. After making short work of both, I stepped out the back door into the foggy morning.
The minute I was outside, the smell of the salty air beckoned me to the ocean. Following the trail that led from our backyard to the dune grass, I wound my way toward the roar of the crashing waves. The sound was like a warm, comfortable blanket wrapping around me as I snuggled more deeply inside. How I had missed this! I’d never realized how I ached for the ocean until I was here again. Apparently it was just another thing that I put into my box of feelings.
A random memory that I’d locked away years ago bobbed to the surface. I saw Sam and me walking toward the beach, hand in hand, talking about our future together.
“How many kids will we have?” I squeezed his hand and grinned at him playfully.
“At least a dozen,” Sam replied.
“A dozen? When am I going to find time to write books if I have a dozen kids?” I stopped walking and dropped Sam’s hand in surprise.
“Okay, maybe not a dozen. We can have as many as you want to. I only said a dozen because I was thinking of all the fun we would have making them.” Sam laughed mischievously and drew me close to him, running his fingers through my wind-tangled hair.
“Well, when you put it that way, maybe a dozen is the perfect amount.” I stood on my tiptoes and pulled Sam’s face to mine, our lips meeting with the spark of fire that was always there when we kissed. I loved him so much; my heart was practically bursting with emotion. I wondered how a body could hold that much passion. “I can’t imagine anything I would like better than spending a lifetime with you, Sam.”
“It’s you and me against the world, Hope. It always will be.” Sam’s voice drifted away on the breeze.
I shook my head and willed the memories to stop. It was getting harder and harder to forget them when everything around me kept dredging them up from the buried past. I reached the shore and stood looking out at the rolling waves. Mist tickled my face, and I could almost feel my wavy hair begin to frizz, but I didn’t care. No one was concerned with how I looked here. There was no one to impress. No one was on the beach besides me. At that moment, I was struck with the realization that I was alone—on the beach, and in my life. Not only was I alone, I was terribly lonely.
Like a slap in the face, I realized that other than Kelsey, I was truly on my own. Truth be told, I knew I had no one to blame for my loneliness except me. If I hadn’t been so careless with Sam all those years ago, my life would have been so different. Emotions came in waves, like ocean swells. Being back home was like popping the champagne cork on my bottled-up feelings. The fog mingled with the salty tears that streamed freely down my cheeks.
I shook my head and willed the memories to stop, but they didn’t. I was tired of fighting them, so rather than ignore my feelings as usual, I admitted that the isolation hurt. With that admission, a barrage of suppressed emotions floated to the surface.
As someone who went through life numb, I was startled as I began to feel... everything. I stood on the beach while all of the pain I’d tried to outrun finally caught up to me. I thought of the people who’d hurt me, and rather than put it all neatly into a box, I felt it. I had no idea what I was doing, but it seemed I couldn’t stop now that I’d started.
There were so many people in my life who had disappointed me. My mom made it clear that she didn’t want me here now, and she never really had. While I wasn’t surprised by it, it was more painful than I’d ever admitted. I didn’t know who my father was, and the mystery surrounding him had plagued me since I was a child. I’d been abandoned by both of my parents in different ways. My father abandoned me physically, and my mother emotionally. One was just as bad as the other. Neither gave me what I needed, and I was overcome with anger, resentment, and sadness.
Then there was Jonathan. I trusted Jonathan implicitly from the moment I met him. From the beginning, I always believed he loved me. I was still having difficulty wrapping my brain around the fact that I’d been betrayed by the person I’d trusted for better or worse.
I’ve heard that, in every relationship, one side loves more deeply than the other. Supposedly, it is never a completely even playing field. In our relationship, I knew Jonathan was the one who loved me more. In some ways, maybe I even took advantage of his love for me. I never doubted for a second that it would always be there. He practically worshiped me since the day we met. He used to say, “Hope, I’m so lucky you married me. What did I ever do to deserve you?” I never said things like that to him. It never occurred to me to do so.
When Jonathan Grey walked into my life, I was young and broken, caught in a downward spiral, spinning helplessly into a depression over which I had no control. Our paths crossed over Christmas break during my senior year of high school. I was at an all-time low in my life, and I believed I had nothing left to live for. It was more than teenage angst. I was virtually flirting with a complete mental breakdown. My fragile heart, which had just been shattered into a million tiny pieces by what happened with Sam, needed something to hold on to. I had no idea how to put myself back together, and quite frankly, I’d lost the will to try.
Kelsey was worried about me, and rightly so. She was the only one who noticed the black circles under my eyes from lack of sleep, and the fact that my clothes hung on my frame due to a twenty-pound weight loss. Desperate for an intervention, she begged me to accompany her to a party thrown by one of our friends. After a lot of coaxing, I agreed.
Little did I know that night would be life changing. Kelsey showed up at my house with her cousin Jonathan, who was visiting for the holidays from New York. He was twenty-three. He was older and sophisticated, and I remember wondering why in the world he was hanging out with us.
Jonathan was on the cusp of taking a teaching position. I’d met him once before, when we were kids, but I hadn’t seen him in years. He was handsome, with black hair and jade-green eyes. He was like a magnet, charismatic, and I knew he could have had any girl he wanted. That night, for a reason I never understood, he made it clear that he wanted me.
I was reluctant at first to even talk to him. I was shy and awkward, certain that once I opened my mouth he would know I was nothing but a silly, unsophisticated girl. He didn’t notice any of those things. At the party that night, he never left my side. He seemed to know that I was fragile, and he made it his mission to make me smile. Before long, he coaxed me out of my shell and we talked the night away like old friends.
After Jonathan went back to New York that winter, we stayed in touch, talking on the phone at least once a week throughout the remainder of my senior year of high school. His attention was the one thing that finally brought me out of my depression. He wrote me beautiful love letters and poetry, and I knew I was lucky to have a man like Jonathan interested in me. He was quite a catch by anyone’s standards.
I certainly didn’t love him the way he loved me, and I told him that from the very beginning. Even that didn’t dissuade him. I admired his drive and his love of life, and I also enjoyed his company. It wasn’t long before I developed feelings for him. It wasn’t love. I’d had that with Sam, so I knew the difference.
When Kelsey and I graduated, he traveled all the way from New York to attend the ceremony. At Kelsey’s graduation party, I was shocked when Jonathan proposed, but I said yes without hesitation. My wise best friend warned me that I was making the wrong choice; she knew the truth in my heart that I was trying so hard to ignore, but I didn’t heed her advice.
The only thing I knew for sure was my ticket out of Woodridge rested firmly in Jonathan’s hands. My mom had no idea I was involved with anyone, so she was obviously blindsided when I announced I was getting married. We argued, and like a stubborn eighteen-year-old, I refused to listen.
Jonathan and I left Woodridge together the next day. We were married at City Hall when we arrived in New York. He knew I wasn’t in love with him, but he didn’t care. He told me he loved me enough for both of us. That worked for me, but as I’d recently found out, Jonathan needed more.
When I found the note from the woman who claimed to love my husband “more than life itself,” I couldn’t help but feel guilty for not loving him the right way. I was a good wife to him, but he knew he was not the only man in my heart. I think my version of love had been enough for him for a while, but the time came when he needed something else. I was angry at him for not telling me things had changed on his side. I was furious at his betrayal. He’d been a part of my life for so long that his absence left a gaping hole. He may have never been my true love, but he did have my affection, and I’d always been faithful to him.
My husband had been my cheerleader, my friend, and my life companion. He was the father of the baby I’d lost. We would forever be tied by that painful fact. Even though I knew I could no longer be married to him, I missed the comfort and familiarity of him. I missed all the things that might have been.
Standing there on the beach, I was helpless to stop the barrage of emotions swelling up inside of me. The memories meandered down a mental path, oblivious to the fact that I needed them to stop, until they ultimately ended up at the same place they always seemed to—Sam. The most painful memory of all was that my first and only love was now nothing but a ghost that continued to haunt me. I was amazed that I could love another human being so intensely and survive it. I knew without a doubt that breaking up with him was the single worst mistake I’d ever made in my life. The saddest part was that over the years, I’d come to the realization that I was the only one to blame for us not being together. It was something from which I knew I would never recover.
I reached down and picked up a large shell. It was shiny and smooth, and another memory of Sam bobbed to the surface. I remembered how we used to love walking on the beach together. We would scan the shore in search of treasures while we walked hand in hand. He always let me find the best ones, so I had quite a collection. I understood at that moment that it was pointless to try not to remember him. There wasn’t a spot in this town that didn’t have a memory of the two of us engraved on it.
My heart ached with heaviness; it weighed a thousand pounds. I felt like there was an albatross around my neck. I’d unlocked all the boxes, and like water from an opened floodgate, the pain of the memories crashed over me. I cried harder than I had in years, sobbing to the point where I was gulping air, unable to breathe. Why did my life have to be so hard? Why couldn’t I seem to catch one single break? Standing there on the beach, drowning in my own sadness, I prayed for a life raft, but I knew no one would throw one my way.
The feelings had to stop. One by one, I placed each memory neatly inside the box in my mind and closed the lid. I visualized it happening, and began to calm down. A person could only feel so much. If I didn’t stop now, it would be too late. It was time to move on. I wiped my eyes and steadied my ragged breathing, pushing it all back down, deep inside of me where the pain lived. It was the only way.
Turning my back to the ocean, I made my way up the path leading back to the house. I hadn’t gone far when I spotted two figures heading my way. As they came closer, I realized it was the little girl from next door. She was walking with an older woman I guessed might be her grandmother. As we passed, they smiled kindly, and I returned a friendly greeting of “hello.”
The little girl’s eyes met mine, and she waved shyly, looking at me closely as if she saw everything I was trying to hide. They continued toward the beach, but I was struck again with a sense of recognition. It was ridiculous, because I knew I’d never seen the girl before last night. I wasn’t normally the kind of woman who took much notice of children, and I had no idea why this one should be any different, but something told me she was. I shook my head in confusion and continued home.
