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“Just so you don’t think I’m a total ass… there’s something else you should know.”
“There always is...” she said.
“Elise is pregnant.”
Amelie did a double take. Another blow to the gut. Feeling off balance, she leaned against the door to steady herself.
Jack reached her quickly, grabbing her elbow. “I swear to you… I didn’t know before, I mean…” he said, his eyes pleading. She tugged her elbow away.
“You know what, Jack… it doesn’t even matter,” she said before she forced herself to open the door and walk out.
TWENTY
Jack shut his office door then slunk down at his desk. He rested his chin on his hand and gazed at the phone. He thought about picking it up and dialing her cell before changing his mind. He reached for the letter opener instead. Jack picked it up, hesitated, setting it back down before picking it up again. He sliced through the envelope, shook its contents free, and watched as the papers spilled out onto his desk. He picked up one of the folded notes and began to read.
Dear Jack,
I’m writing from the loony bin—literally. Ha! No, really, I’m here, in the insane asylum that is back at home in Austin, and I’m wondering why I haven’t heard from you. It’s been two weeks now and nothing. I’m sure you’re busy at school, but I also pray that you’re not too mad at me. Oh, and speaking of pray, yes, you read that right. I’ve taken up meditation here, which is a form of prayer in a sense, I guess. Anyway, it’s the most amazingly intense thing. I can’t begin to describe what it feels like to go inside your own head and look around—but that’s exactly what it feels like. Like floating. Like you’re an astronaut lost in the space of your own mind. It’s freeing, so freeing. And quiet in a world that is anything but. Especially in this place. Now, I really do sound crazy, huh? At least I’m giving them good reason, and oh!—a run for their money. There’s a lot more I’d like to say on that topic, but it’s probably best not to put it in letterform. Even though I pretty much hate it here, I am feeling a lot better these days. I’ve almost come to terms with the abortion in a way. At least now, I am able to say the words, anyway. I know what I did was wrong, and I’ve since learned that even though it was wrong, what I was feeling was normal—a part of grief that comes along with it. I guess I just didn’t feel like I deserved to feel grief or sadness or anything else, because well, it was my fault. I made the choice, after all. And so I tried to push it all down, to numb it out, and in the process, I caused a whole series of other problems. So, while I’m here, or for the remainder of my time anyway, I’ve decided to just feel. To let it be and deal with the emotions as they come.
Which brings me to you. I know I said it in my previous letter, Jack, but I truly am just so sorry for everything. You have always been such a great friend to me, and I have done nothing but cause you misery. I realize that I’m not the easiest person to get along with, and well, I just want to thank you for always being a friend when I so desperately needed one. Obviously, there are other feelings there. I’ll address those too, but first, I want to say how very grateful I am to you. No matter what, you’ve been my rock. You’ve always been the type of person I knew I could call on. That I could count on to be there for me. And I don’t think our society gives enough credit for that. There is nothing more important in this world than having a friend, Jack. Nothing. I want you to know that no matter what, I will always do my best to be that for you. Maybe I haven’t done the best job so far, and for that, I’m truly sorry. But from here on out, it’s my promise to you that I will try to make you proud. I want you to know that it is thoughts of you that truly keep me going while I’m in here. Thoughts of the things we can do together, thoughts of the places we’ll go, thoughts of being anywhere but here as long as it’s somewhere with you. These are the things that keep me focused. Thoughts of you and of all the possibilities of what could be. So… I want to say thanks for that, too. Anyhow, I’d better sign off for now. It’s time for “group.” Remember how much you always love that at Camp Hope? It’s like a billion times worse in here. Anyway, bye for now.
Miss you tons and hope to hear from you soon.
In the meantime, here’s to possibilities.
xoxo,
Amelie
Jack folded the letter, placed it on his desk and quickly typed an email before he could change his mind.
To: Amelie Rose
From: Jack Harrison
Subject: Longstanding Friendships
Dear Amelie,
I’d like to apologize for the way things unfolded in my office today. Actually, I have a lot of apologizing to do regarding the way things have unfolded outside this office, as well.
Anyway, I don’t really know what to say—other than, I’m sorry.
Forgive me,
Jack
Ameli
e flew in a day before the wedding and made sure to put as much space as possible between her and where the wedding party was staying. She fell in love with Hawaii from the get go. Knowing she would, she arrived with a list in hand of places she wanted to see and shoot, which is what she did right up until an hour before the ceremony. Having lost track of time, she was forced to race back to her hotel, to shower quickly, and throw minimal makeup on. She dressed in her finest silk dress, which happened to be black, of course, because, in her opinion, black seemed to fit the occasion.
She grabbed a taxi and arrived at the church with just fifteen minutes to spare. At the entrance, she straightened her back, tilted her chin, waltzed in, and took her place in a pew at the rear of the church. For two weeks, she’d dreamt of being the person who stood up and objected as the preacher asked if there were anyone who would like to object to the marriage, and all she could think of now was getting this over and done with. She planned to let herself be seen by Jack, congratulate him, and then bolt immediately following the ceremony. She took a deep breath, and then focused straight ahead before remembering that she hadn’t silenced her cell phone. As she reached into her small purse, she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Are you Amelie Rose?” the man asked.
She nodded knowing exactly who this man was even though they’d never officially met. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Jack’s father. He asked me to come for you. I believe he’d like a word before we get started.”
“Oh, dear,” she muttered before she could stop herself.
He nodded in recognition and took hold of her forearm. “Whatever you do, Miss Rose, I implore you not to let my son make a fool of himself and our entire family here today,” he urged in a hushed voice, not quite a whisper, as he led her up the aisle and around to a hallway where doors lined both sides.
