Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“You do?” I ask, lowering Danny’s letter. How does Maggie manage to see all the nuances that I’ve missed?
“I do, sweetie. They could have come charging down here, but that wouldn’t have taken any thought. This…” she waves her hand around the box as though she’s trying to conjure a rabbit from a hat. “This took thought and effort to pull off.”
“I guess.” Staring down at the box, I’m suddenly conscious of what I might find within. I don’t want to cry in front of all of these people. Poor Maggie had enough of that when I arrived yesterday. “I think I’m going to take the rest of these to the den.”
“Okay, honey,” Maggie says.
Reaching into each pot, I lift out the letters they each contain. In the bottom of Alden’s pot, I find a small metal keyring. At the bottom of Tobias’s, I find my favorite candy. Danny’s included a polaroid we took together, all smiling at the camera with the goofiest of expressions. Mark has included a tiny turtle made of semi-precious stones and River, the little clover pin he always has in his pocket whenever he plays a game.
Just holding each of the trinkets that they thought so hard about including makes me want to cry.
Maggie rests her hand on my shoulder. “If you need me, I’m here.”
Nodding, I swallow down a swell of emotion that burns like firewater.
Clutching my strange assortment of objects and five letters, I make my way to the den. The couches are ridiculously comfortable, but I perch on the edge, resting everything on the large central table. The letters are all mixed up, so I start with the one nearest to the top and work my way through. Each brother shares a part of themselves that they keep hidden. Alden never wants to admit his mistakes. Danny can’t deal with rejection. Mark is logical where emotion is needed. Tobias allows himself to be led by his brothers and doesn’t remain true to his heart. River is hotheaded, thinking after he’s acted. Their awareness of their faults, and willingness to admit how they impact their approach to our relationship have me floored.
In every one of the letters, they’ve told me how much they want us to work. Even though their father and my mother are so against the idea, they’re not wavering.
I touch each of the items they’ve sent me one by one. Alden’s handmade keyring is so sweet. He told me it’s the first thing he ever made and the thing that inspired his career, and now he’s entrusted it to me. The turtle is like the design on one of my earliest ceramics. The clover tells me that River is willing to risk losing games to show me how he feels. The candy is Tobias’s way of telling me he knows me. And the photo is just the best reminder of how happy I’ve been over the past few weeks.
Just looking at us grinning make me laugh, but it’s watery and shaky because I’m so scared.
These men have been able to put themselves on the line and open their hearts, but I know I can’t do the same thing. Admitting all my fears isn’t something I’m capable of. And letting them in again, when I know they have the potential to hurt me, is just too much.
Maybe I’ll never be able to have a normal relationship.
Maybe I’ll never be able to lay my heart on the line for another person.
I just need to come to terms with it and get on with my life, because what I’m doing right now isn’t working. This half-hearted approach, getting involved but not fully trusting, running at the first sign of trouble, isn’t fair on anyone, especially me.
Tucking all the letters back in their envelopes, I return to the kitchen. Maggie watches as I place everything back into the cardboard box and close the lid.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“They’re saying all the right things.” I shrug and take a seat at the table, conscious that the men in the room are all looking on with interest.
“So, that’s good, right?”
Shrugging again, I pick at a hangnail next to my thumb, making it bleed and then sucking it better.
“You know, when Maggie came here, she had no idea what she wanted,” John says. “She was vulnerable and worried about her pregnancy. She was coming to terms with the fact that her father had died without any reconciliation between the two of them and that he’d had this whole life with us that she didn’t know about. She really struggled to trust.”
“I did,” Maggie says with a rueful smile.
“So, what happened?” I ask.
“I guess it was a combination of two things,” he continues. “The first was that we showed her what we wanted and tried to be the men she needed.”