Watching you fall in love with Max. This was one of the hardest and best things for me; because I watched you struggle with your fears and trying to appease everyone. I had to fight not to tell you what you should be doing and allow you to come to the realization on your own. You did it perfectly, Ace. Every step of the way, you did it all perfectly, at your own pace, and at your own comfort level. You followed your heart. When did you get so wise?
Savannah having baby Sawyer on your birthday. I may be becoming a sap in my old age, but I swear, I saw visions of the future watching you and Max holding her.
Seeing your strength and knowing that regardless of what happens you’re going to be able to do the right thing.
Now it’s time for the advice portion of my letter. The words I wish to impart on you that you will make an earnest effort to consider.
I have to pause and read through the beginning of his letter once again, slower this time, picturing each item he has described on the list. The advice portion of this letter is what I’ve been seeking, yet it hurts that I’m so close to it already being over. I take a deep breath and hear my father’s voice as I continue.
I’ve constantly struggled over this with your letters over the years but, it’s always scared me a lot more than it does this year for several reasons, but to the same point, this year you have something much larger to potentially lose and therefore I feel horrified at the prospect. Take a deep breath and finish by drinking something strong. I hope it helps.
If, God forbid, you’re reading this, Max has probably let you go.
A fresh course of chills sear my skin, and I reread the sentence several times before quietly whispering, “What?”
Knowing how much he loves you, I’m sure it was very difficult for him, and he’s currently cursing my grave asking me “what now?” while you continue on your journey, seeking out answers to questions you don’t have.
You’ll never be able to answer all of the questions that life throws at you. All you can do is enjoy what you’re given, and make the very best of it, so I’m going to tell you, it’s time to go home Ace.
I pause and feel my brows furrow as I look up at Fitz.
“What?”
“He knew. He knows. How in the hell did he know?”
“Know what?”
“That I’d leave.” I push the letter toward him. “He knew I’d leave if something ever happened to him. He knew that Max would let me go. How in the hell did he know?”
“Did you finish?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Keep reading.”
I know you’ll be hurting and be in a difficult place, but you need him, Ace. This last year you found someone you love even more than you love me, and although it was difficult for me to accept at first, I’m relieved you did. Max is your home now and that’s where you belong. I know I’m telling my twenty-year-old daughter and her free, independent spirit to go running into the arms of a guy with tattoos and a motorcycle … Who knew this day would come? But in all honesty, we know he’s a lot more than that. Max has a heart of gold and he loves you more than all of the stars in the sky.
Life is going to be filled with hurdles that test our strengths, but ultimately, it’s a celebration—a journey. Don’t stop because it hurts, or because it’s scary; pain and fear already take too much, don’t give them more. Fight to be happy, Ace. Fight to see the good, because it is always there if you look deep enough. Fight for life. And always, fight for love.
Finish your journey, and then go home. There’s another letter for you when you get there. Go tell Clementine you’re ready.
Save travels,
All of my love,
Dad
PS
I hope you’re reading this at eighty, sitting beside Max and laughing at the prospect of you ever leaving.
PPS
Please don’t ride on the motorcycle.
I read the letter six times and then look up at Fitz.
“I’m twenty-one. It took me over a year to read his letter.”
“It doesn’t matter, H. What matters is you need to go.” His brown eyes are heavy with pain, and his lips are tight as he smiles at me, but his fingertips squeeze around my forearm and he nods and I slowly nod in response.
“I do.”
“What can I do to help?”
I throw my arms around Fitz and clutch him so tightly it hurts. “I want to take you with me.”
“Don’t worry, you can’t get rid of me this easy. We’ll keep in touch, and visit, and get you back on those social networks so you can post daily pictures for me.”
I laugh and shake my head as a tear rolls down my cheek. The letter seems to have revealed something that I already knew: California is where I belong. But leaving hurts, and saying goodbye is going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done because I know I won’t be back.
Fitz and I spend the night packing things into boxes and periodically venturing over to one another for a hug.
After I finish filling a box from the bathroom, I find him asleep on the couch I finally bought. I pull the blanket from across the back to cover him, and look over the array of boxes around my small apartment. I thought with coming to Delaware I was running from those I cared about most so life would be easier, less complicated, painless. Who knew I would manage to find one of the best friends I could have ever imagined and a mentor that I’ll be leaving before she possibly leaves me and the rest of the world permanently.
I sag onto my new bed and pull out my phone. It’s after two in the morning. Although I have the urge to call Kitty and tell her while all of my emotions are still fresh and raw, I know she needs her rest in order to keep fighting her own battles, so I plug my phone in and close my eyes for one of my last nights in Delaware.
“One of the most courageous things you can do is identify yourself, know who you are, what you believe in and where you want to go.”
–Sheila Murray Bethel
T
he sky is bluer than blue as I cross the Arizona border into California. It’s the dry stretch that travels through the Chocolate Mountains that Jameson refers to as rock piles.
I press a couple of buttons and ringing echoes through my car.
“Harper, did you make it safely?”
“I just crossed into California. I wanted to touch base with you and see how you’re feeling today.”
“I’m better knowing you’re finally happy.”
“I was happy, Kitty. I was happy in Delaware with Fitz, and you, and Danny. I enjoyed the lab, and school, and finding myself.”
“You were happy, weren’t you? You just weren’t fully complete.” I picture her knowing green eyes and smile. “I want to hear all about it! And you let me know when you get there. I don’t care how late it is.”
“Kitty?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for finding me.”
There’s a long pause and then I hear her suck in a deep breath. “I didn’t find you, Harper. You found yourself. I just helped show you where to look.”
“I love you.” I wipe away a few tears that race down my cheeks.
“I love you too. Drive safe and don’t forget to let me know when you get there.”
“I will. I’ll text you if it’s really late, and then you can call me tomorrow.”
I pull up beside Kendall’s car a little after nine and let out a deep breath. “Alright, Dad, we made it,” I say quietly, running my fingers over the letter that rode across country with me over the last four days.
My bare feet burn slightly against the heat that clings to the asphalt as I grip my Converse shoes by their laces, my father’s letter still in hand. I look up to the night sky and see an airplane fly overhead, defying convention, and it makes me smile. I look beyond it and find the brightest star in the sky.
“I love you too, Dad.”
My finger shakes as I ring the doorbell.
The door opens a second later and rather than having the perfect movie scene where Max is standing here, ready to kiss me, Kendall looks at me with her bright blue eyes rounding and her breath leaving her in a quiet rush. A teary squeal climbs from her throat as she pulls me into her arms and hugs me with a severity that I’ve learned to recognize over the last few days is only able to transpire between someone that really loves you.
“I feel like I’m dreaming. I’m not though, right? You’re here?”
I smile and nod. “I’m here.”
She shakes her head and pulls me to her once again.
“I really want to talk to you. I have so much to explain, but I need to talk to Max really quick, first.”
“Ace?” Max steps behind Kendall, followed by his dad and Jameson. I hadn’t anticipated an audience during the million times I thought about this scene and how it would play out as I travelled across the entire country, but I work to push my discomfort aside and breathe. “What are you doing here?”
Kendall takes a few steps back as Max takes a few hesitant ones forward, and I lift my shoes for him to take.
His brow furrows as he takes the laces from my fingers. “What are … why are you giving me your … your shoes?”
I work to ignore the fact that the others are all looking at me with earnest anticipation and curiosity and focus on Max. “They’re the last piece of me.” My voice is quieter and sounds hoarse and broken, so I clear my throat. “I’m giving you my last piece. I didn’t know how else to show you that I’m not afraid anymore. You have to work with me a little with the metaphor here—”
My words stop as Max’s lips land on mine with a need that resonates in my soul.
When he pulls back, a smile is spread across his face. Cheers register and I look over Max’s shoulder to see Kendall, Tim, Jameson, Wes, and Landon all yelling and cheering. I smile and watch Jameson and Kendall hug as she bounces on her toes with excitement. My eyes float across the small group that I love as family and see their warm smiles. I stop when I reach Wes, who gives me a wink with a single nod before my sole focus returns to Max.
Just Max.
“How in the hell did he know?”
I raise my eyebrows in confusion.
“I have something for you to read later, but I think these guys want to see you first. And before that, I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to kiss the hell out of you until you don’t have a single doubt about being here.”
“I
don’t
have a single one,” I whisper against his cheek as he leans down to hug me. “Not a single one.”
Max still kisses me, long and hard, and the others give us an encore applause before finally disappearing into the house and allowing us a small bit of privacy.
“What do you have for me to read?”
“Do you want to read it now or go see everyone?”
“I want to read it. I want to explain everything—I have so much to tell you.”
Max’s hands clasp both sides of my face, and his forehead leans against mine as he releases a soft breath that holds the hint of mint and the promise of him.
He leads me to his room and opens the bottom drawer of his nightstand, revealing stacks of pictures of the two of us and of just me. One of my old anatomy flashcard sits in the back, and my most recent note is folded in half, covering several other previous ones. He fishes to the bottom of the drawer with a knowing practice and extracts a white envelope that has his name scrawled across it in my father’s handwriting. I look at Max as he pushes it toward me.
“He wanted you to read it when you were ready,” he explains softly.
A part of me feels anxious to read more words from my father and relish in this feeling that has descended upon me since reading his letter to me. Yet my chest tightens with a new wave of heartache from missing him.
I sit on the edge of Max’s bed and carefully open the letter.
Dear Max,
Each year in December I write a new letter to each of my girls, and also to their families. I know that you aren’t married yet, but I’ll bet my last dime that you’re going to be a member of our family forever, so I thought I may as well begin your stack of letters this year as well.
I write these letters so I can impart some final advice to my girls on the off chance that something ever happens to me, and I’m not there to help them in the way that I’ve always strived to.
When Muriel was pregnant with Mindi, we didn’t know she was a girl. Part of me had wanted a boy, someone to rebuild cars with, and watch sports, and one day drink a beer with, and talk about him proposing to a girl that he loved as much as I love Muriel. Five girls later I don’t have a single regret. I have cherished every single makeover, Barbie session, and tea party more than words could ever explain, and I look forward to enjoying them with all of my grandchildren, or granddaughters as they love to tease. They’re filled with the best things that life has to offer, and part of that is the emotions that sometimes run high. I’ve strived to balance between supporting them and offering them advice that will guide them in the right direction, without curtailing their own journey and decisions in the process.