What She Left Us (33 page)

Courtney
squeezed Helena and whispered to her, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I’m
so glad you’re here. I feel so blessed to have you in my life. So blessed.
Thank you for your sacrifices.”

“Courtney,
it’s you I have to thank. Thank
you
for accepting me.”

Courtney
was in the kitchen wearing her scraggly PNU sweats from freshman year and one
of Mitch's T-shirts. She was layering a lasagna with cheese, meat and pasta
when Mitch came downstairs Christmas morning.

“There’s
my Christmas wish,” he said, putting his arms around her waist and breathing
her in.

“Umm,
good morning.”

“How
are you doing this morning?” he asked.

“You
have to ask?” Courtney laughed.

“No,
I’m asking about last night’s discussions, not about this morning’s escapades,”
he smiled.

“I’m
wonderful,” she grinned, spooning sauce over the top of the lasagna.

“She’s
pretty great too, I think,” Mitch said.

“I
think I’m surrounded by people who are pretty great.” Courtney put the spoon
down and turned to face Mitch. “I adore you. Every single speck of you.”

“And
I, you. I love you. I love being with you. I love the sunlight you bring into a
room. I love that smile you wear every single day, no matter what is happening
in your life. You still manage to smile.”

“Did
you ever think you might be the cause of this smile?” Courtney asked.

“I
hope I continue to bring that smile to your beautiful face. I have a little
something for you.”

“Mitch,
we said no presents!”

“I
know, but, well, I couldn’t not get you something.”

“Do
you want to give it to me later?”

“Didn’t
I give it to you this morning?” He winked.

“The
present!” Courtney laughed.

“No,
now.”

“Why
now?”

“Because
your ears look a little naked.” He tucked her hair behind her earlobes, kissed
her neck and moved his lips slowly to meet her lips. Courtney shivered.

He
pulled a box from his back pocket and quickly removed what was inside. Without
her seeing, he poked an earring into one earlobe, and twisted the back on, and
then moved her hair from the other side and slipped the other stud into her
left ear.

Courtney
moved her hands up to feel her lobes and her eyes got big. “Mitch? What are
they?”

“Earrings,
silly,” he laughed. “Go look.”

She
ran into the hall bathroom with him following and when she saw she let out a
squeal. They were diamonds. Tiny diamond studs, but diamonds nonetheless.

“Oh
my God Mitch! These are outrageous! They’re beautiful! Thank you!” She studied
them for a minute more while he smiled above her in the mirror and then she
turned to hug him.

“You’re
outrageous and beautiful. I want these to always remind you of that. No matter
what happens in your life. Believe it.”

“I
will, I promise you that I will. Merry Christmas.”

**

Christmas
paper plates were cleared away from the
card-table-turned-Christmas-dinner-table (noted as the best cleanup after a
holiday ever), and Jenna excused herself to go make a phone call.

In
a quiet moment later, after all the bonding and crying over the last day, Mitch
had admitted to Courtney that he really missed his family, and he’d like to
work on his relationship with his parents and sisters.

“You
should call them. Maybe we could visit them for New Year’s. I’d really like to
meet them all. I think it’s important, Mitch.”

“I
know it is. And I’d like to make things better before too much time goes by. I
realize now that they weren’t purposely ignoring me, they were so busy raising
four girls. They knew how independent I was and it must have been so hard
taking care of so many kids. I know they love me, and I get that it was hard
for them, but it was hard for me too. I miss my sisters too.”

“Tell
them that then.”

“I
will, and I’ll tell them we’ll come for New Year’s.”

“That’ll
be wonderful. There’s nothing else I’d rather do,” she hugged him and then he
took the stairs two at a time to go make his call.

Helena
came into the kitchen then and asked if she could help with any more of the
cleanup.

“All
done, it was so easy. And we can have dessert when everyone resurfaces.”

“Sure.
Hey, you want to come out into the living room for a sec?” Helena asked.

“Yeah,
be right there, let me wrap this up and stick it in the fridge.”

Courtney
put the leftover lasagna into the fridge and wiped off her hands. It was weird
being in her parent’s home, hosting Christmas without her mom. She was feeling
melancholy, but not exactly sad. She missed her mom, but it wasn’t like she
missed her specifically on this holiday. She missed her mostly at odd times,
like if she were in a store and she passed by a woman wearing the same perfume
her mother used to wear, she would be hit with a wave of extreme sadness, or if
a favorite movie they used to watch was on TV she would burst into tears. It
was those kinds of moments where she missed her mother most. Still, she sent up
a quiet prayer wishing her mom a Merry Christmas.

When
she went out into the living room, Helena was perched on the edge of the couch.
She had a package in her lap. “I have a little something for you.”

“I’ve
got something for you too, but it’s just something really small,” Courtney went
over to the tree and retrieved the red and gold gift she had wrapped for
Helena, and handed it to her.

“Should
I open it?” Helena asked.

“Yes,
open it now,” Courtney said.

Helena
took off the bow and then the wrapping. Inside was a photo album with the word
FAMILY inscribed on the front.

“It’s
beautiful,” Helena said.

“It
doesn’t have any pictures in it. Yet. But I’m hoping that you’ll be able to
fill it soon. Very soon.”

“Me
too. Thank you, Courtney. This is very thoughtful of you.”

“You’re
welcome, it’s just something small.”

“I
love it. I’ve got something for you too.” Helena handed the package to
Courtney. She opened it slowly, and when she did, she let out a small gasp.

“Oh,
Helena. You kept this?”

“It’s
the most precious thing I’ve ever had.”

“My
letter.”

“I
cried for days when you sent me that letter, Courtney. You have no idea. In a
way, I believed you knew, even back then, that we were connected. That there
was something more, something bigger that either of us could understand. When I
got that letter from you… well, you obviously know how important it was to me.”

It
was the letter that Courtney had written to Helena when she was six years old.

Dear
ant helena,

Hi.
Its me courtney. i know you want to vizit and I wish you wud. Yur my favrit
ant. Im soree you cant come for Crismus. i like when you cam last time and we
got some ice creem. my sistre is beng a brat. she is stuped now all she cares
about is her frend Lilly and she likes boys. Its dum. i still like playeng dress
up and dolls. merree Crismus.

love
courtney

Helena
had placed it in a double frame, and in the frame next to it there were two
photos, two that Courtney had never seen before, had never even known they’d
been taken. They brought Courtney to heart-wrenching tears.

“Oh
Court, don’t cry, baby. Don’t cry. This is supposed to be good. We’re supposed
to be happy now. Please don’t cry. I wouldn’t have given these to you if I had
any idea they would make you cry like this.”

“It’s…
it’s just, they’re beautiful. You loved me. You love me. Then, and now.”

“I
do. I do baby. I love you with all of my heart.”

The
top photo was of Jenna and Helena and Courtney, on the Ferris wheel at Navy
Pier, the time they visited their father when Helena was there. Courtney had
been leaning far over the edge in the chair high above, further than she should
have been, eyes gleaming with hope and happiness, her smile bright, wind in her
hair. Helena’s arms grasped Courtney around her waist, pulling her back toward
her protectively, and she was laughing. Jenna sat next to Helena, and even
though she was sixteen years old, her head tunneled into Helena’s chest,
obviously scared to be up so high.

“I
knew they took photos on the Ferris wheel, but had no idea at what point they
snapped them. After we got off that day, I went and picked up our photo. I’ve
kept it forever. I want you to have it. This is how I see us.”

“I
love it.” Courtney said through her tears.

The
other photo was sad. Beautifully sad. It was the only photo of Courtney’s birth
day. Helena held her in a hospital bed, a blank stare in her eyes, such a sad
look, sunken eyes and dark circles, a strange lonely sad girl holding a baby,
trying to hold onto hope. It was obvious whoever took the photo (Courtney’s
father maybe?) had said, ‘Smile’ because there was a grim attempt at a lifting
of the edges of Helena’s lips.

The
baby, Courtney, was wrapped in the hospital-issued blanket, yet her arms were
outside of the blanket, as if flailing, trying to be free. And her mouth was
open, definitely mid-scream. The thought of what Courtney’s infancy must have
been like made her cry harder.  But then she thought about what Helena’s life
must have been like all those years. At least Courtney couldn’t remember the
pain of being a sick infant.

“Was
this horrible for you?” Courtney asked.

“It
was so hard, so very hard,” Helena admitted. “But now… now is the happiest time
in my life. Being here with you and Jenna. Knowing I’ve got a place in your
lives now. It’s a good reminder of where I’ve come from, and where I know I’ll
never go back. I thought you should have it though. Your birth photo.”

“Thank
you. Thank you so much.”

There
was a noise at the top of the stairs and Mitch shuffled down, smiling from ear
to ear. “Just got off the phone with my parents. And I talked to each of my
sisters. They’re thrilled we’re coming for New Year’s. And they’re really
excited to meet you Court!”

Courtney
and Helena brushed away the tears. “That’s great, hon. I can’t wait to meet
everyone!” Then Courtney patted the couch next to her. “Come on over here. I
want to show you some pictures from when I was little that Helena brought. She
brought a picture of the day I was born.”

Jenna
lay on her mother’s bed, dusk settling outside, and she ran her fingers along
the edge of the silky crocheted blanket that was always a source of comfort to
her. Mitch, Courtney and Helena were downstairs playing some sort of card game
Helena had introduced them to, and Jenna had begged off.

Her
thoughts were of past Christmases in this very house, and all the noise and joy
the holidays used to bring. The day had been nice… almost too quiet, and it was
wonderful to spend it with Helena, but now, in the low light of her mother’s
room, she felt a longing and a loss that pulled at her heart.

She
turned to her side and pulled the blanket up to her nose. She had a lot to
think about. The new year was coming, she knew she wanted to continue with her
degree. She knew she had made the right decision about Darren, that she was
absolutely sure of. She was missing something.

Earlier
in the day, she had tried to call Clay.

She
hadn’t been happy with the way she had let things happen with their last
conversation and she wanted to talk to him. That was what she had been telling
herself as she dialed his number. That she simply wanted to wish him a Merry
Christmas. But when the call went through and the automated voice came on
announcing that the voicemail box was full and not accepting messages, she felt
a slight panic rise in her throat. That didn’t seem like something that would
happen to Clay’s phone.

So,
she took a risk and decided to call Klippy’s on the pretense of checking in
with Doug, and to let him know where he might be able to send her last check.
Mandy had answered the call.

“Cheers
and beers! Klippy’s Merry Christmas!”

“Hey,
Mandy, Merry Christmas, it’s Jenna.”

“Hey
girl! How are you?”

“Good,
uh, I was calling to see if Doug was around. I have a question about my last
check.”

“Doug’s
not in,” and then, “Wait. You’re not coming back?” she asked, surprised.

“No,
didn’t Clay tell you?” Jenna asked, glad to have the opportunity to drop his
name into the conversation so early.

“Clay
hasn’t been around for a few days.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,
he decided last-minute to take some time off for the holidays, something about
going up to the mountains,” Mandy said, and then, “You want a beer?”