Page 102 of Rekindle My Heart

Chapter 22

“Honey, you relax. I can ask your father to help me with this.” Ruth Randall stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

If she relaxed anymore, she’d be in a coma. Cabin fever was real, and Erica had it after five days at home. The doctor had instructed her to take it easy, and she had. But she couldn’t sit at home any longer and stare at her phone.

Ryan texted her Monday, asking if she was home and if he could swing by.

Her heart enthusiastically beat out a “Yes.” But her head muddied with thoughts of Sarah and the river… She needed time.

He’d given her time, but she honestly didn’t expect so much of it. Every day, she stared at her phone, hovering her fingers over his contact info. And every day, she closed the screen.

Tell him. You’ve loved him forever. You almost died. What are you waiting for?

Good question. She just didn’t have the answer yet.

That was why she was here. Avoidance. Erica hadn’t planned on coming over to her parents’ house tonight, but when her mother called and said she had a few old books and a box of her stuff she found while cleaning out her old bedroom, it was the perfect escape from her internal torture.

“I’m fine, Mom. There are only a couple more boxes.” Man, how many books did she have? Erica pulled the third box of old stuff from the closet. She stared down the hall and stopped at the open door.

Sarah’s room.

When her mother said she wanted to redo her craft space, Erica hadn’t realized she was expanding into Sarah’s room.

Ten years had passed before her mother even stepped foot inside her sister’s room. It had become a shrine to Sarah. Erica glanced around the empty walls. The bed was bare. An eerie chill snaked up her spine.

It’s as if the last thirteen years her sister had been away at camp. Her mother hadn’t touched a thing. Photos of her cheer squad had sat on the white-washed dresser. Her pom-poms hung on the edge of her mirror.

Now… the space was devoid of all things Sarah.

Tears stung her nose. She rapidly blinked, trying to stop the waterworks that were seconds away from falling.

She was motionless—a statue holding a box. The only thing moving was her pounding heart.

The smell of lilies enveloped her a moment before a warm hand slid around her shoulders. “Hey, are you okay?”

She bowed her head. The image of her sister flopping down on the bed, a book in her hand, flashed in Erica’s mind.

The knot in her throat clogged the words. But words were tied to feelings, and at the moment, Erica was numb. Knowing Sarah’s room was always here made her being gone less real.

But looking at the faded paint that outlined photos, it sunk in. Sarah would never walk through the door again. Never giggle at the silly jokes Dad would tell, or ask Erica to braid her hair again.

It was like Erica had one foot in the past, not fully living in the present. Now, that past was ripped out from under her, like a rug sliding across the floor.

She shifted the box to one hand and knuckled a tear that escaped with her other.

“Honey, let’s go get some tea.” Her mom hugged her from behind, then steered her down the hall.

In the kitchen, Ruth set down two glasses of iced tea. “I bawled for days as I packed up her things.”

“You should have called. I would have helped.”

Her hand patted Erica’s. “What, so we could both cry? No. I needed to do it myself.”

Her mother let out a breath. A sad smile crossed her lips. “Losing Sarah had been the worst day of my life. God, she was so bright and happy and independent. She had a stubborn streak as wide as the Grand Canyon.” Her mouth sobered as she looked at Erica.

“But the day I thought we might lose you.” Tears glossed her eyes. “You have always been my support, my helper. I don’t think I ever told you, but without you, I don’t think I could have made it through. I’m not just talking about after Sarah died.”

Her mother raised the teacup to her lips but didn’t drink. “Your father worked long hours, and with Sarah needing so much care when she was little…”