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“Hey,” my mom says, pulling me out of my recollection. “One step and deep breath at a time.” She comes to a stop in Mason’s driveway, the house a mere two blocks from my own.
I wrap her in a hug. The saying has always been her motto. Her way of reminding me to stay in the moment, recommended for everything from stage fright to performance anxiety before a tough algebra exam, to seeing my ex-boyfriend for the first time in years after my reckless action left him profoundly and irreversibly injured.
“Want me to come with you?” she asks.
Reaching for the door handle, I lightly shake my head. “I’d rather do this on my own.”
“Okay. I love you.” She wipes the corner of her eye. “I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.”
Before I’ve even stepped onto the porch, Carrie opens the front door, and it suddenly feels like things are moving too fast—the world, my blood, my thoughts. I fight to hold my ground, put one foot in front of the other, while every instinct inside me screams to turn and run. What if this is a terrible idea? What if Mason stares at me with vacant eyes, or worse, opens his mouth and screams, “You did this to me!” like some kind of horrible miracle? Worse, and far more likely, what if he’s an unrecognizable shell of a person, hooked up to tubes and wires, and I’m the one who freaks?
“Kendall,” Carrie says with such hesitation my heart splinters. There was a time she greeted me with open arms.
“Hi. Thank you so much for letting me drop by like this.”
She nods before leading me into the house that was my second home while Mason and I dated. Familiarity wraps around me. Everything looks the same. But like Carrie, Brian greets me like if he blinked and I disappeared, he’d be okay with that. “Hi, Kendall.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth. I will not cry in front of them.
We make small talk and, while strained, Carrie and Brian’s ambivalence toward me thaws as I share details about my life and look them both in the eye to say how often I’ve thought about Mason. How things he said and did live in my memory and continue to shape me in so many ways. He mattered. He’ll always matter to me. I don’t know if it’s the passage of time, or my sincerity, or both, but when Carrie steps forward to hug me, it’s a turning point I feel deep in my bones.
“I gave Mason’s caregiver the night off so you two could spend time alone together.”
“Thank you. And, Carrie, I’m sorry—”
She holds up her hand. “You know what? You’ve apologized over and over again, and I think maybe it’s time I apologized to you.”
I shake my head. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I do. I was—I am—selfish when it comes to Mason, and I didn’t realize how much it would affect you, keeping the two of you apart. You took a risk calling me, and I’m glad you did.”
I press my lips together, unable to speak.
“Mason wouldn’t want anybody’s sorrow as his legacy. Especially yours. So for that, I am sorry it took me a while to get here.” She pauses outside his half-open door, puts her hand on my forearm. “Nothing has really changed since you saw him in the hospital,” she says softly, “but Brian and I believe he recognizes voices, so talk as much as you want.”
“Okay,” I murmur, overcome with emotion. Carrie walks away, not the least bit hesitant to leave me to enter Mason’s room alone. I almost call for her to come back, but instead I push open the door, my pulse racing and my body shaking. The moment I see him, tears trickle down my face. Cuts and bruises no longer mar his handsome face, but otherwise, he does look much the same.
And also different. Or maybe it’s me who’s different. I’ve grown out of my seventeen-year-old self. But he’s thinner. Frailer. More like a boy. While I’ve been maturing into womanhood, he’s been reverting.
I sit in the chair beside his bed, glad to find his eyes open. “Hi, Mason. It’s me.” His eyes briefly flit toward me, and I choke out a sob. Whether or not he truly understands I’m here, I’m convinced he does. And I’m determined to make up for my absence, starting at the beginning.
“I can’t tell you how much it means to me to see you. I’m sorry it’s been such a long time, but please know not a day has passed that I haven’t thought about you. I’ve missed you so much, but before I tell you all the things I want to share, I want to apologize. I’m so sorry about the accident. I’m sorry for crashing your car. I’m sorry I drove when I shouldn’t have.” I let out a slow breath then swallow.
“And I’m sorrier than you will ever know that you were hurt.” I brush the hair off his forehead with a gentle touch. I wish more than anything he could respond, but decide to take his silence as acceptance.
“I went to NYU like we planned. Mom and Dad tried to gently push me in a different direction—NYU was too far away, too closely associated with you, but I insisted. In truth, I wasn’t ready to abandon our plan. A part of me hoped for a miracle. Hoped you’d somehow recover and join me. All would be forgiven and we’d live happily ever after just as we’d always envisioned.” I pause to wipe away new tears. “But that miracle wasn’t in the cards, was it? Instead, I learned how to face a reality I hated, which was its own kind of miracle. I learned how to reconcile regret with forgiveness. I learned to let go of things I couldn’t change no matter how desperately I wished to and move forward in a way that would make you proud…
“The summer after my sophomore year I got an internship at a law firm, which pretty much meant there was no going back on law school after that, at least in my father’s eyes. I know it’s not what we dreamed about, but I stopped acting after the accident. It wasn’t the same dream without you there…
“I didn’t really keep in touch with anyone from our group of friends. Sarah reached out and we texted each other a few times. I know, right? The girl who tried numerous times to break us up had the decency to see if I was okay. I hear she and Davis are dating now…
“I graduated at the top of my class and was accepted to the University of Chicago for law school. To say my dad’s ecstatic would be an understatement. He’s got the next several years of my life mapped out. Graduate with top honors, join his firm, and earn some kickass nickname so everyone knows I’m a force to be reckoned with. All good things, but my heart isn’t really in it…
“So my aunt hatched the perfect plan to get Dixie, Amber, and me together this summer. Amber is definitely nicer to me than Dixie, but now that we’re older, we’re figuring out how to get along better. We are getting along better, and I’m hopeful…
“I still have the framed Winnie the Pooh quote you gave me. I kept it on my nightstand in college and you can bet when I move into my own place, it will always be on display. I treasure it, so thank you again for giving it to me…”
