Rachel

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I SAT ON THE TOP DECK of the Eurodam at dawn, looking out at the port of Sitka, Alaska—the very city I’d lived in before my family moved to the suburbs of Salt Beach. Since our scheduled trip to Moscow was cancelled, the program was letting us stay here for two weeks, but I had yet to get off the ship.

My father had written me and told me that he (and Stella) received the notification about Alaska, and were staying at a bed and breakfast in town “desperately hoping to speak to me together,” but I had yet to respond.

I’m never responding to that one...

I held up my mother’s sealed letter and decided it was finally time to open it, since for the first time since she passed away, I officially had no one else I could talk to.

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DEAR RACHEL,

I’m writing your letter FIRST because I have the most to say to you and I don’t want to leave out anything. (I know you’re having a hard time with me being sick, but I promise that I’ve done everything in my power to make sure that you’ll be fully taken care of emotionally when I’m gone.)

I’m including a much longer, ten-page letter behind this one, but for now, I want to tell you three main things.  

First, you’re beautiful, and despite how those stuck-up girls on your block used to treat you, I guarantee that most of it was out of jealousy. (I’m not just saying that to be saying that either)

Second, I’ve told your father not to mourn my passing for more than a year. I know him down to his marrow, and if he mourns for longer than that, he’ll lose you. I’ve given him a list of women (women I know) should he choose to follow my words and date, and I’ll be up high cheering him on.

Third, I want you to travel. A LOT. I want you to see every corner of the world as soon as you can. I know I’ve said the words, “Make sure you study abroad in college” countless times, but I really want you to do that. It’ll help you discover some things about yourself, and it’ll expand your perspective of the world.

And later in life—much later, if you’re still single, do me one huge favor: If Ethan Wyatt (Yes, that Ethan Wyatt) is still single, go out for coffee with him a few times.

You’re going to roll your eyes, I’m sure, but I think the two of you would make the best of friends, or even a great couple one day. The moment you pushed him down those stairs (I’ve always known that he didn’t “trip over his shoelaces” like you claimed) and the moment you two started sending those very first hate notes to each other, I knew there was something there.

I’m laughing right now because I’ve never seen two people so obsessed with what their “enemy” was doing. I never told you this, but during the summer, when you’d go off to art camps for a week or two at a time, Ethan would always come over and ask when you were coming back. He would (of course) talk me into making him hot chocolate since you weren’t there, but he admitted that he had way more fun with his “number one enemy” than any of his friends.

Anyway, go out with him for coffee sometime when you’re in college so I can look down and see if I was right.

Don’t forget to read my longer letter behind this one with more specific advice about life, but feel free to keep this one in your wallet. ☺

I love you forever and I’ll be with you always.

Love You,

Mom

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I READ HER WORDS AND the longer letter behind them ten more times, wiping away tears with each read. I folded the letter and made a copy in the study room, then I tucked it into my jeans and headed down to Deck Three. I scanned my ID at the port and rented a bike—pedaling all the way to where my dad said he would be eating breakfast every morning.

Dropping my bike on the sidewalk right outside, I walked into the restaurant and spotted him sitting at a table with Stella. I rushed over to them—interrupting his words, and then I cried.  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “To both of you...I’m so sorry.”

He stood up and pulled me close, hugging me in a way I hadn’t felt since my sophomore year of high school. By the time he let me go, the sun had come all the way up, and Stella was asking a waiter to set a new place at the table.

“I’ll um...” She looked between us. “I’ll let you two be alone. Rachel, it’s very nice seeing you here.”

“Please stay,” I said, hugging her. “Please.”

“Okay.” She returned my hug, and then she sat across from me.

We sat in silence for a few minutes, and then I cleared my throat. “Did my mom write you two long letters, too?”

They nodded.

“She told you that you should date each other?”

“She did,” my dad said. “I told her she was out of her goddamn mind once I read it, and she must have known that would be my reaction. Days before she died, she had someone mail me another letter and it was worded in a different way. Your mother was very insightful, Rachel. She could read people like no one else I’d ever met.”

“I cursed at her when she gave me my letter.” Stella laughed. “I was so mad at her for making plans for after she’d be gone, but as you know, that’s just how she was. She wanted things to be a certain way even if she wouldn’t be there.” She paused. “She didn’t tell you about us in her letters?”

“Not specifically.” I shook my head. “But I can see what she meant now. She mentioned Ethan in mine.”

“Oh?” They said in unison.

“Yes. Oh.” I looked between them.

“What did she say?” My dad asked.

“That she knew he didn’t trip down our steps when we first met.”

“Of course, she knew that.” My dad smiled. “That’s all?”

“No, she said she thought we would be good together later in life.”

“We’ve always thought that,” my dad said. “We’d watch you two fight all day, every day, and then the next day you’d still hang out together in “hatred” as you two claimed. You’re friends now, correct?”

“We tried to be.”

Stella raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ll go to the beverage station and grab us some tea.” She stood up, and for a few seconds, I swore that my mother was sitting right next to me. Like she was telling me to say what I would’ve said if she was living right now.

“Dad,” I said. “It’s a girl thing. Can I talk to Stella alone?”

“Only if you’ll promise you’ll join us here again for dinner tonight.”

“Promise.”

He kissed my cheek and stood to his feet, walking outside.

When Stella returned, she motioned for me to follow her into a private lounge area, and the second she shut the door, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“I still hate him.” I cried. “I really fucking hate him.”

“Rachel...”

“I thought our relationship meant something, that if I was willing to stay, he would be willing to stay, too.” Tears fell down my face. “He’s the main reason why I’m on that damn ship again...He insisted on being my ‘first real boyfriend,’ so I thought...I just thought he, I could’ve sworn we—”

“Calm down, Rachel.” She set the tea down and pulled me into a hug. “Calm down.”

“He said he loved me.” I couldn’t stop talking. “Like, he said it in the mornings in his sleep, and I actually believed that shit.”

She hugged me harder.

“He’s amazing at words, and I want to believe them, but at the end of the day, his actions show that this was a fling and all we had was sex. It was really good sex, but if we were built on more, he wouldn’t have been so anxious to leave and go to New York for a program I know he doesn’t really want to be in. He just wanted to get away from me and my ‘emotions’ and fuck other people. I’m so stupid...”

“Shhh.” She rubbed my back, waiting until I’d vomited all the words before making me sit up again. “Do you honestly think that Ethan doesn’t love you, Rachel?”

No... “I have no reason not to believe otherwise,” I said. “I haven’t talked to him in a long time.”

“Are you opening his letters?”

“No, but—” I paused. “How do you know about his letters?”

She smiled. “Trust me, I’m sure him calling us to ask if we’ve heard from you is his last resort, but if the way he’s sounded over the phone is any indication, I think he’s just as hurt as you.”

“Well, good.” I wiped my eyes.

“You don’t mean that.” She let out a light laugh. “And you know it.”

“I just wish we’d never crossed the line. I wish we’d stayed enemies.”

“Rachel Dawson,” she said, still laughing and handing me a Kleenex. “If you were really enemies, you would’ve never stayed in contact as long as you have, let alone lived together.”

“We only stayed in contact with each other because no one else ever wrote me back.”

“You sure about that?” She smiled. “Something tells me he would’ve reached out to you eventually.”

“I doubt it.” I shrugged. “He didn’t even know I was doing Semester at Sea until I wrote to him.”

She smiled. “Rachel, Ethan came by two weeks before his freshman year started and asked why he hadn’t seen you at any campus events. When we told him that you were doing Semester at Sea, he demanded that we give him a copy of your port schedule and directions on how to reach you. You just happened to write him first...”