Basically, I don’t know why I’m walking down this street, only that I couldn’t sleep and kept thinking about it, that I do know. That it feels as if I have to come here, maybe because of that one thing I understood yesterday in dance class: I can dothis. I can make Lilly’s dreams come true for her, and although it will certainly hurt again and again, it might also be just as overwhelmingly beautiful again and again as it was yesterday.
Remembering her could be more than just pain. It could also be love. Light. Warmth.
Hope.
Everything on Camee’s list could be hope—even the house.
It’s just around the corner up ahead. I stop, stare in that direction, and remember what happened at this exact spot almost two years ago.
‘Don’t expect too much. It’s pretty old, but the garden has so much potential.’ Camee’s voice is almost cracking with anticipation. I haven’t seen her this excited in a long time. Lately she’s often been tired, has seemed worn out and lost weight. She works too much, and now I have an inkling why.
She needs money for her dream.
‘And it’s really cheap. Yes, there’s a lot that needs doing, but the area is going to boom in the coming years,’ she explains to me.
‘So it's a dump.’ The corners of my mouth twitch.
She lifts her hands defensively. ‘Admittedly, the windows aren’t completely airtight and there might be one or two cracks in the wall.’ A sigh leaves her mouth. ‘But there’s a stream in the garden, the layout of the house is good, and there are fantastic wooden floors that just need to be refinished, and beautiful old doors.’
With the paint definitely peeling off them. And the water pipes are most likely rusted through, and switching on the light is practically a suicide attempt.
I can’t bring myself to tell her that. Instead, I smile at her. ‘You’re in love.’
Her cheeks turn pink.
‘With a dump.’
‘With the garden of a dump,’ she replies meekly. ‘Admittedly, right now it’s not a garden yet, but it’s going to be one. The most beautiful garden in the world.’
So much love resonates in her words, and I know she will turn this house—no matter how much of a dump it is—into a dream come true. Her dream.
‘Okay.’ Who could possibly be mad at this woman? She’s my little sister, and seeing her happy makes me happy too. ‘Show me.’
‘First you have to promise me something.’ She looks at me expectantly. I nod. ‘For now, this has to stay our secret.’
‘Our parents don’t know about this? So it’s even more of a mess than I thought.’
She lifts her shoulders, which suddenly seem heavy. ‘Mom would say I’m crazy,’ she says quietly, and she’s probably right about that.
‘I won’t tell anyone.’ Never.
‘Thanks.’ With a relieved sigh, she grabs my hand and pulls me a few yards down the street. ‘You’ll see it in a second.’ Her fingers tremble a little.
I look up, searching, and as soon as we turn the corner, I spot it.
The house stands at the end of the cul-de-sac, lost and dilapidated, as if it had forgotten itself. The façade is cracked, the plaster is flaking off in many places. The window glass is milky, the blinds hang crooked, some are torn.
‘Isn’t it amazing?’ I hear Lilly ask rapturously.
The front yard consists entirely of weeds. Grasses and shrubs are sprouting from the ground, the paving stones lie crooked in the earth.
‘Do you see it, Jayjay, do you see it?’ My sister squeezes my hand. ‘What it could become …’
I put my arm around her, pull her close to me, and kiss her temple. ‘Yeah, Camee, I see it.’
A week later she bought the house. Two weeks later she got her diagnosis. Twelve months went by in which she didn’t set foot on the property, yet she still kept telling me how the garden would look one day, and I encouraged her in her plans. Got her gardening magazines, material and color samples.
I wanted her to keep that dream alive, did everything I could. Now, almost two years later, I’m standing for the first time at the intersection where I stood with her back then. Knowing that in the months since her death I haven’t done a single thing for her. I wanted to forget her. Her and her dreams. Forget at any cost.
