Chapter 41

Saff and I settle in to watch our final video. We’ve been helping Micah organize his mom’s house by packing her abundance of art supplies and knickknacks into enormous plastic containers—his pre-college gift to Alicia. Now we’re taking a break.

The video image focuses on two little girls swinging in the backyard. The sunlight makes the image hazy at first, but as the camera focuses, I recognize the yard as Alicia’s, and the girls as myself and Saff.

“Doesn’t that look fun?” Mom’s voice comes in, hoarser than before. “You’ve been out there for an hour, and I’ve been watching you from this loveseat on the back porch. You’ve taken turns pushing each other on the swing, twisting the swing and spinning, lying on your tummies to fly like superheroes, and standing on the seat, tilting your heads up to the sky.”

I nudge Saff and point through the window. That same swing still hangs from a tree in Alicia’s yard, rickety and splintered from years in the sun.

“I love you girls so much. It’s a love I cannot put words to. I wouldn’t want to try—no words could do this feeling justice. Watching you play, and laugh, and love each other, this fills my soul in some all-encompassing way that makes me complete.”

Someone has woven our hair into elaborate braids. I vaguely remember Alicia brushing our hair, sitting us in front of her chair, and wrapping strands over strands. I remember thinking that she must like braiding, that maybe a part of her wished for a daughter. Wisps have sprung free, circling our faces, and swaying as we run.

“You may have noticed by this point that there are only six videos, and seven clues. That’s because I decided to combine the last two.” Her voice cracks. “There’s not as much time as I’d hoped, and there’s so much more I wanted to tell you. But I have to put all my remaining energy into the you I see now, not the you of the future.”

My little-girl self cups her hand over her mouth and calls, “Come push us!” Moments later, little-boy Micah dashes forward. I arrange myself on the swing, and Saff climbs on my lap, facing me, and wrapping her legs around my waist. We both hold onto the chains. Micah pushes from behind me, and we sail up high, screeching like happy birds.

“Mostly I’ve found peace in this. Mostly I believe that you’ll be okay. But there are moments that I am so angry. Moments when I feel royally cheated. I’m trying my best to let go of those crappy feelings. They don’t change the situation, they only zap my ability to enjoy the special moments I have left. I don’t know if you have any of those toxic feelings, but if you do, try your best to release them. They do you no good.”

Our little-girl selves are singing as we swing high out of the camera’s reach. Micah shakes his head at us like we’re ridiculous but he loves us anyway.

“All right, I’m just procrastinating. Follow my instructions. Carry this video into the bathroom, girls, and go together. These are your final two gifts.”

Saff and I exchange perplexed looks, but I pick up the laptop and carry it into the bathroom off the enclosed porch.

“Okay. Now set the laptop on the bathroom counter. And look in the mirror, girls.”

Saff clears the counter with one sweep of her arm, sending an assortment of potpourri bags into the sink. I place the laptop there, tilting the screen upward so that we can see it better.

“Take a moment and look at your sister. This is gift six. I give you each other.”

Saff and I meet each other’s eyes in the mirror.

“Treasure this relationship. Don’t let silly differences divide you. Stay strong and stay together.”

Saff smiles with a spark of recognition, like some unconscious part of her has known this all along. The bridge of my nose stings, and her image in the mirror blurs. I think of all her sticky note notes in the journal, and all my responses to her, still hidden away.

“And now turn to your own reflections. For gift seven, I offer you yourself. YOU are someone you can always count on. YOU get to decide what path you take and how you want to live. YOU are your own greatest gift.”

Saff’s eyes shift from mine and move to her own. I linger on her face, watching her gaze at herself in the mirror, her lips vibrating with emotion.

I peel my focus away from Saff and toward myself. I can’t lie to my own reflection. My image contorts, and I realize that tears are blurring my vision. I don’t bother wiping my eyes. Crying has never felt so good. Like someone has released a dam that I’ve been struggling to hold for too long.

“I don’t believe in goodbyes. I, for one, choose to believe that I’ll be watching over you for eternity. That I’ll cry with you and I’ll laugh with you. Speaking of which, I’m going to set the camera down, and just enjoy you. I want to catch every possible moment with you two.” The image jiggles as Mom sets her camera down on a table, lens still angled outward. “Alicia, you ready?” I see the edge of Mom sit down on a chair by the camera, watching us.

A youthful Alicia walks into the frame. She aims a hose at our little-girl selves, her thumb over the spigot, and sprays. We squeal as the water hits us, happy little-girl squeals. We run in circles, both into the stream of liquid and away from it. Water cascades down on us, sparkling in the sunlight.

We open our mouths to catch the water, giggling and coughing, taking turns. We tip our heads back, our hair wet, our soaked clothes molding to our little-girl bodies. The edge of Mom is shaking with laughter, and I’m reminded of what a musical sound that was. The image freezes there, in a moment that captures the water droplets midair.

✱✱✱

I spend that evening compiling all my Minion videos into a montage for Tee. And when I’m done, I tape my own sticky-note responses into Mom’s journal. I center the book on Saff’s pillow before I go to bed. Some of my sticky notes don’t fit quite right and wind up poking out of the journal, but it’s okay. We can always reconfigure this later. For now, I just want Saffron to know how I feel.