“You…want to talk right now?” He looked around to see if there was anyone else nearby. “To me?”
I lowered my gaze to the ground and nodded. “Uh huh.”
“Are you sure you realize what you’re asking?”
I shook my head no and yes as I stood up, brushing bits of dirt from my palms. “I mean, yes. I’m sure. And no, I’m not running. Not anymore.”
His eyes sparkled with tears. “Don’t fucking play games with me right now, Blue Brennan. My heart can’t take it.”
I made the motion of drawing an X across my chest with my index finger. “I know. Promise.”
What I did to Beanbag in the past wasn’t fair. In fact, it was downright brutal and spineless. Everything I had coming was warranted. Forgiveness wasn’t in the cards, and I wasn’t going to ask him for it. Ever. All I could do was make an attempt to right my wrong, two years too late, and hope for some sense of peace—for both our sakes.
“How do I know I can believe you?” His face was unreadable. “You’re about to crawl through Hell.”
I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from unraveling at the seams. “Even if it makes me bleed, I need to face what happened. Please?”
After studying my face, he nodded. “We should probably go somewhere private.”
“What about ‘Veigh?” I hiked my thumb over my shoulder.
“What about her? Your sister is blissfully unaware of the anchor I’ve carried around, and I’m not about to tell her now. Especially when she’s hopped up on baby hormones. This is between you and me.”
“But isn’t she waiting for you?”
“Daveigh’s taking Lucy home once she stops greeting her guts. Plus, I have to stop by Eddie’s on the way home, so I drove myself.”
“If you need to go…”
“Huh uh. I’ve waited too long for this. Walking away isn’t an option on my end,” his voice wavered. “Holding this in is killing me, and I can’t let go until…” He closed his eyes, stopping himself from crying.
I nodded in the direction of The Lean, Mean, Coffee Bean across the street. “Coffee shop? Eddie can’t be all wrong.”
“Not secluded enough. How about the park?”
I nodded and walked beside him for two blocks, the only sound our shoes connecting with the pavement. A thick layer of fog settled in the farther we went. Wisps of sheer white blanketed the grass, blade by blade. My teeth chattered as I fought off the shiver. Silently, I wondered how much was from the weather and how much was from trepidation.
Beanbag sat down on one of the tire swings and stared at the ocean. “You know, this was one of her favorite places.”
Anyone mentioning her felt like a dagger piercing my heart. But when Beanbag did it? It cut deeper than ever. “I remember.”
“When my sister…” He pushed out a deep breath. “When Madelyn took that monster pill cocktail…”
I fought back the urge to throw up with my hand clamped over my mouth.
“You knew about the OD, right? And the gun?” He looked alarmed.
I nodded, my voice unsteady. “It hurts. Hearing you say her name...”
He dug the toes of his shoes into the thick layer of sand beneath the swing and looked up at me. “Maybe we should start at the beginning. What do you know about that night?”
I sat down on the lowest platform of the big toy. “Not a lot. She was angry with me.”
“So, you know the how but not the why.” He stopped the swing from moving.
“It was because of me.”
There was a hint of argument behind his voice. “Being upset with you had nothing to do with what she did.”
I lowered my head in shame. “Right.”
“Jesus, Blue. Is that what you’ve thought for the past two years? She didn’t kill herself because of any fight you two may have had.”
“Don’t soften the blow for me. It won’t work.”
“She didn’t and I’m not. Madelyn didn’t tell any of us why until after, but she did a damn good job of hiding it.”
My heart skipped a beat in my chest. “Hiding what?”
“I have something for you.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his worn leather wallet. Inside was a plain, white envelope that’d been folded into quarters. The edges were discolored and bent with age.
“What’s that?” I frowned, flashbacks of Tom’s unwanted envelopes whispering for my attention.
He held it out to me. “Take it. Please. I can’t carry this fucking thing around for you anymore. It’s too heavy.”
Fear ruled me.
“I’m begging.” Two tears tumbled down his cheeks.
Holding my breath, I took the envelope from him and set it on my lap, afraid holding it would heighten the sting in my chest. With the pad of my index finger, I traced over the bubbly letters that spelled my name on the front. Madelyn’s writing. I’d have known it anywhere. “What am I supposed do now?”
His response was simple. “Read it.”
Reality took a firm hold. Once I opened that envelope, my life would be forever changed. “What if I’m not ready for her words?”
“Come on.” He motioned for me to follow him over to a nearby picnic table where he sat down across from me. “If you need to stop, put it away. I’m not here to judge you or pressure you into finishing it. It took me damn near a week to get through mine, and every last sentence shredded me from skin to soul.”
My eyes flicked up at him. “Wait. She left one of these for you too?”
“I assume it’s similar; I didn’t open yours.” He counted on his fingers. “There was one for you, one for my mom and dad, and one for me. That was it.”
He reached across the table and gave my hand a gentle squeeze, compassion behind his eyes. “If you want me to stay while you read it, I will. You can lean on me when the pain’s too much to bear.”
“No!” My tone was snappish. I waited for him to rescind the offer before setting the envelope down, but it didn’t happen. “I won’t ask you to do that. You’ve already dealt…” I shook my head. The gesture was too much.
“Blue, you’re not asking. I’m offering. No one,” he pressed his thumb down on the paper, pinning it to the table, “should be alone if what’s in that letter is anything like what was in mine. I was by myself when I learned the truth, and it damn near broke me.
“When I found her body, the letters were clutched in her hand. Blue slack lips. Wide open eyes. A bullet hole. No evidence of breathing. But her grip? It looked so tight, I thought a piece of her hung on in there, and I could somehow win her back. But I was wrong. Madelyn spent a ridiculous amount of time piecing all of this together. I wish…she’d have invested those moments telling us instead, you know?”
“You were the one who found her?”
The weight of the conversation hit me like a ton of bricks, my body feeling like a deflated balloon. I couldn’t fathom the grief wracking his heart in losing a sibling. If Finn or Daveigh had died, unable to cope with…I don’t know what I would’ve done. And to top it off, the idea of not getting to say goodbye made me physically ill. But wasn’t I just as guilty? I’d done the same thing by cutting ties with Daveigh and Finn? And Adam. Internally, I fell apart.
He nodded. “When I found her, it took three tries to call 911. My hands, they wouldn’t work.” He wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“Beanbag…”
He blinked, two more symmetrical tears falling down his face. “You can only outrun so much, but you can’t outrun what lives inside you.”
I touched the sealed edge of the envelope. It was time. My finger slid under the edge, breaking the seal before I pulled out three full-length pieces of paper. The front and backs were saturated from top to bottom with words.
The handwriting was in neat pink ink. Over time, I’d allowed myself to forget she’d only written in that color. Every i was dotted with a perfect star and each period had been replaced with a tiny heart. Signature Madelyn.
I straightened out the deep creases and looked up at Beanbag, who gave me a nod of encouragement. His eyes didn’t falter toward the paper. Instead, they remained fixated on me.
Holding my breath, I internally counted to three before I dove into what would be one of the hardest ventures of my life.
Blue,
If you’re reading this, you already know.
Before you ask aloud or give this piece of paper any judgmental looks, my decision was made three days ago. It was 100% mine. I want you to understand that before you continue reading. Let that concept sink in. No one else knew what I went through or what I’d decided, not even you. It wasn’t your cross to bear, so I sheltered you from my truth.
Are people gossiping and calling me selfish? Probably. Are they whispering I’m a chicken? Likely. In my opinion, it’s selfish for me to continue living, and I’d be a chicken to not carry out my plan. So, to those who call me greedy or weak, I’m raising my final glass with zero fucks to give. Their opinions don’t matter because I’m finally going to be free from the burden of this body. Free. That single word sends a steady stream of tears down my face. They’ve been near-constant lately as I prepare my goodbyes, but they’re laced with a combination of salty terror and sweet joy.
Three days ago, I received a phone call from White Pines. You know, it says something when your cancer doctor is number six on speed dial. The sickening dread in my gut was immediate when I saw his name blinking on the caller ID. My hands began to sweat and shake while my heart pounded up into my throat. It reminded me of that same feeling we both got before riding the big roller coaster at the fair back when we were kids. Remember? God, I’m going to miss that.
It took four rings before I had enough courage to answer. Four rings. And they were doozies. Each one felt like a lifetime as I stared at the screen. Part of me thought if I didn’t answer, I wouldn’t have to acknowledge what he had to say. Pretty stupid, huh? Either way, I was wrong. My truth awaited, and I needed to face it head-on. Three words were all I needed to hear before I crumbled to my knees in the parking lot of The Lean, Mean, Coffee Bean. I probably looked like an idiot, but I challenge anyone to hear “inoperable brain tumor” and continue functioning. Thinking back, I think those were the only three words I remember hearing. The rest? I processed them, but it was hazy. “Aggressive” was mentioned and it felt like a knife in my chest. “Stage four” was another ugly combo. That was the one that made me dry heave the most. The real kicker was “only a few months”. That phrase was the worst, and it made me numb. Kinda like my body tried to protect my brain. Ironic since my brain had been the one attacking me. The bottom line was recovery had been yanked off the table like a cheap optical illusion at a magic show.
At first, I didn’t know how to describe what I felt most. Was it anger? Denial? Regret? Sadness? Looking back, it was all of those and more, but it was like my emotions were jumbled into a giant blender. It was an unpleasant feelings smoothie, and I had a tough time choking it down.
What really hit me was when I realized I was only a few days from touring that expensive college I told you about. My parents, they were so excited someone in the family was finally going to a four-year school. Even if I took time off after high school. And they were willing to pay the tuition. Beanbag sure wasn’t interested in furthering his education. Here’s a secret I didn’t tell anyone—my dad took on a second job outside of the police force to help pay for it. He gave up his spare time doing something he hated. And he did it for me to succeed at something I loved. To me, it was the ultimate sacrifice.
But my prognosis had been dealt to me like a losing hand of poker. I couldn’t go to school. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d get to go to my upcoming dentist appointment or see the next horror movie release with you at the Cineplex. There was one fact I was certain of: I couldn’t leave my family with the burden this disease would leave them. It wasn’t even an option. The new insurance policy I was covered under, the first one on my own as an adult, wouldn’t pay for what they considered my “pre-existing condition”. I couldn’t bear my parents watching me die a slow, painful death while confined to a sterile hospital bed – almost as if I’d somehow let them down. Discussing a DNR or whether or not to terminate life support, if it came down to it, wasn’t a decision I wanted them to endure.
I’ve seen people die from cancer as I’ve endured this nightmare.
I’ve seen the way their bodies starve and deteriorate.
I’ve seen their skin become translucent, lighting up a map of purple and blue veins.
I’ve seen their mouths go lax, gaping open as they gasp for precious mouthfuls of air.
I’ve seen their hair in disheveled disarray when before they’d never allow a lock to be out of place.
I’ve seen way they become incoherent and confused, like a terrified child unsure of what’s to come.
I’ve seen them look up at the corner of the room, as if someone is patiently waiting for them to take their last breath and give up the fight.
I’ve heard them moan, as if they’re a prisoner in their own body, trying desperately to communicate, failing.
I’ve heard the death rattle when the end is near, a sound I wouldn’t wish on anyone to hear.
There’s a nervous energy that skitters along your skin when someone you know is about to pass away. You’re helpless, unable to focus as you continue to wait for the exact moment it happens. The deafening silence causes your ears to ring and your mind to race while you’re on high alert.
I can’t give anyone those memories about me…at my expense. I can’t, Blue.
Questions flooded my mind constantly. Why me? Why was I chosen to be broken and unfixable? What did I do wrong to deserve this? And then it hit me. I have the capability to fix it! I took the most difficult problem and decided to make it into a simple answer. I’m ripping the bandage off quickly to end it all. No long hospital stays or hospice services equating to astronomical bills. No drawn-out death. Thanks to confidentiality laws, no one knows my situation except for Dr. Ritchie and me—my parents think their daughter is healthy as a horse. And I’m determined for it to stay that way up until the end before I become sick enough for them to figure it out. Now, it’s my turn to make my own ultimate sacrifice. And that gives me a sense of peace.
It’s sad my future had been snuffed by a single five-minute phone call. I’d never go to college. Never get married. Never have children, grandchildren, or be that creepy old lady with thirty cats we’d joked about. I’d never see what I’d look like with white hair and wrinkles. I’d never get to grow old and reminisce with you about our pasts. My life had veered off the main path with a dead end on the horizon, and someone is stepping on the accelerator. Hard.
The headaches are worsening by the day now, and it’s taking everything I have to fake normalcy while I eat meals of specifically-measured pills. Periodic episodes of blurred vision and multiple, daily trips to vomit have become my new routine. Anxiety that someone will find out the truth consumes me day and night. I’m so tired. This disease has stolen enough from me, and it’s time I take matters into my own hands. Once and for all.
There’s something I need you to know though, and if it’s the only piece of information you take away from this letter, I want it to be this: Don’t ever question whether my actions were a reflection of yours. Did you read what I wrote? If you need to take a minute and digest that thought, do it. This letter isn’t going anywhere. Even though I’m not, my words will be waiting for you to return. I’m serious. Don’t ever question whether my actions were a reflection of yours. They weren’t. It was all a matter of poor timing.
She knew me all too well. For a brief moment, I closed my eyes, clenching them shut as giant sobs overtook me. My shoulders heaved. The smothering guilt that overtook me for years, the tremendous weight on my shoulders…she gave me permission to let it all go. Her words were too painful to take in all at once, but I knew I had to continue reading. I owed Madelyn that much.
I’m not sure if you know this, but Adam came to see me the night after I left your place and saw…you two…well, you know. Anger and betrayal didn’t begin to describe what I felt. But after thinking about it, I realized the hostility was misdirected because of other issues in my life, issues neither he nor you knew about. He was so patient and composed, saying he’d wait until I was ready to talk. It took me two hours to let my stubbornness subside. We had a long chat on the front porch. He’d come to defend you, asking me if I hated anyone…to hate him instead of you. And then with the purest look in his eyes…he told me he was in love with you. I was dumbfounded.
It all seems so trivial now. I’m sorry I blew up at you that night. Looking back, there was a better way to have gone about it, a more constructive way, but I’ve been so fucking emotional. That was one of my better days—health-wise, and I was so excited to see you. Cancer or not, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry. About so many things. Mostly, I’m sorry our last conversation ever was a string of damaging words.
What I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell me about you two? For so many months you kept it quiet? Impressive, my friend. I probably asked Adam a dozen times to tell me why no one knew; I might’ve even resorted to begging at one point. If I learned one thing that night, it’s that Adam Rockwell is loyal as hell to you. P.S. He never budged and told me why your relationship was kept a secret. For that, I’m so curious, but at the same time it makes me admire him even more. You’re in love. Planning on leaving Steele Falls together. It’s like some kind of romantic fairy tale. Oh, how I wish you would’ve trusted me with that information. Would I have been a little green with envy? It’d be a lie to say no. But would I have been ecstatic for my best friend? Hell yes. Either way, I’m sure whatever the reason, it’s a valid one.
Would the truth have changed my decision to end my life before it had a chance to end me? Not a damn bit.
I want you to be happy, Blue Ann Brennan. I want you to experience all of the things I won’t be able to. Whether you get married or not, have children, grandchildren, or become that creepy old lady with thirty cats, or whatever else life throws your way. And don’t you doubt I’ll be watching over you as you do all of it, cheering my best friend on. It just won’t be from the confines of this broken body. We’ve been inseparable since we were in elementary school, so don’t think I’m bailing on you. I’m not; I promise. And trust that I’ll find a way to let you know I’m around. Whether your happiness is with Adam or if it isn’t, I want you to enjoy every second of this life. It’s the only one you get. And speaking of life, I can tell you one thing without a doubt—that boyfriend you’ve been hiding from the world? He adores the fuck out of you. You should see the way his eyes lit up when we talked. He got this goofy smile like a little kid at Christmas every time your name came up. It was cute, and it was honest, and it was…one of the most genuine moments I’ve witnessed. For once in my life, I wish I’d have experienced a love of that magnitude, but it wasn’t meant for me. Do me a favor and don’t let that kind of love go. Hang onto it tight.
What was one of the last things you told me? Do you remember? The words may have been laced with resentment at the time, but I think it’s important to turn them into a positive message now. When I walked into that room unexpectedly, you told me, “You don’t understand. It’s complicated.” I replied and told you, “It’s only complicated if you make it complicated.”
That’s my two cents. Whatever you do, don’t make it complicated. You’ll know when the time comes how to implement that advice into your life.
“Fuck.” I lowered the letter and wiped away my tears, the weight of the papers excruciating. I fingered over the indentations on the stationery from her handwriting as I desperately tried to connect with her, hoping for a sign of her presence, but I felt lonelier than ever. With a deep breath, I swallowed and gripped it tight as I punished myself with the ending.
Most of all, I’m sorry I can’t say a proper goodbye. I wish I could’ve hugged you one last time. Kissed you on the cheek. Told you I love you and that I couldn’t have asked for a better best friend. You deserve so much more than what I gave you, but I couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment in your eyes if you found out what I was about to do. I don’t want you to remember me as someone to pity; I want you to remember me as Madelyn.
XOXO ALWAYS,
Mads
So many emotions filled me. Anger. Denial. Regret. Sadness. All of them were jumbled into that giant blender of feelings she’d mentioned. She was right…about so many things. I both hated and loved her for that. But mostly, I hated me.
Everything had come full circle again on that heinous carousel. Time had been wasted, and I’d thrown so much of it away. I thought back over the last two years of how I ran away from the past. It was time I could’ve been using to make Madelyn proud. Time. I’d taken for granted the one thing she didn’t have. Was she watching over me? Could I honestly say she’d have been pleased with what I’d done in life? I didn’t think so.
“Wesley.” I rubbed my lips together. “I am so, so sorry. I’m sorry I left things the way I did.”
He smirked. “That’s the first time you’ve used my real name.”
I forced a lopsided smile. “Yeah. Well, don’t go thinking it’ll become some habit.”
“And I know you’re sorry,” he replied. “I am too. You’re not really a heartless bitch.”
“And you’re not really the poster child for gonorrhea.”
He gave me a quizzical look.
“Never mind.”
A buzzing sound interrupted us. Beanbag reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, scanning the screen. “Gah.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. “That’s Eddie. I need to get going. The old man worries if someone’s thirty seconds late. Watches too many of those late-night crime shows. You gonna be okay? I can bail on him if you need me to.”
I nodded and did my best to smile. “Go. I’ll be all right. Eventually.”
“Thank you for tonight. I know it wasn’t easy, but I feel like I can start to heal now.” He gave my hand a squeeze and stood up from the picnic table. I watched him walk away, turning back once. “Don’t be a stranger, Blue. I mean that. If not for me, for ‘Veigh. She’s going to need you.” With one last glance, he jogged toward the direction of his truck in The Fill & Spill parking lot.
I sat there and breathed in wet Washington air, letting it soak into me along with the words I’d read. There was so much I wanted to tell Madelyn. More than anything, I wished I could’ve told her how important she was to me and how much I love…
Love.
I stood up. There was somewhere I needed to go, and the time dictated on my watch didn’t matter. Fate tapped me on the shoulder harder and harder as the evening went on, and all I’d done was ignore it. Enough was enough.