LILLI
The First Day
Lilli parked and turned off the ignition. Then she sat there. Haunted by thought that she would have to go into the house—the house Isaac in which had lived his entire life—and live a life without him, she was paralyzed. She sat and stared at the steering wheel, the reality she had shoved aside with steadfast determination since the fall now claiming its position at the forefront of her life. He was gone.
No. Fuck it. He was not gone. He was away. It was different. She still had him, and he still had her. This was a pause. A long tour of duty. That’s all. She shook her head to knock things straight in there.
“Mamma? Play Legos.”
Lilli looked into the rearview and saw her boy in his car seat, holding the toy motorcycle Isaac had given him that morning. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Okay, bud. Let’s go in.” She looked across the mirror at Gia. Only five, but brilliantly bright and too perceptive for her own good. They’d decided to be as honest with her as they could, telling her that Daddy had to go away for a long time, but they’d go to see him as much as they could.
She’d asked how long he’d be gone. They’d told her. Six years. (Fuck, Lilli hoped it wasn’t longer than that.) Unable to get her little head around that timeframe, she’d asked where she’d be in school when he came home. She loved school; its rituals and routines were beginning to structure her thinking. Isaac had told her she’d be in sixth grade.
That, she’d understood. And this morning, Lilli had watched Isaac peel her from his body while she wept and begged.
Now, sitting quietly in her booster seat, she stared back at Lilli’s reflection in the rearview. “You okay, cara?”
Gia simply stared.
~oOo~
Lilli kept her phone with her, just in case, but she ignored every call that was Shannon, or Cory, or Shannon again, or Badger, or even Tasha. The only call she took was Show, letting her know that they’d been taken in. It had been a short call; neither of them needed, wanted, or were able to say more.
She’d told everybody else to leave her alone. And yet, her phone rang so often throughout the day, she contemplated turning it off. But no. She would never turn it off, not until he was home again. Fully aware that he would not be able to call home so soon, still she would not turn it off. If something happened to him, they would need to reach her.
And something very well could happen to him. It was known that Isaac and the Horde had killed Santaveria and led the attack that had broken a drug cartel. If someone wasn’t coming for him right now, maybe lying in wait for him on this very first day, then it was only a matter of time. Whether he could protect himself, whether Len could protect him—there were too many variables in play even to begin to predict.
If she let her head have these thoughts to play with, she’d go fucking mad before he was gone a month. So she muscled them to the side as much as she could, trying to ignore the persistent way they overran the edges, and focused on her kids. Their kids. She made the most normal day she could with them.
It wasn’t unusual for Isaac to be gone for a day or a few. They had routines for those days that didn’t include him. Refusing to allow herself to confront the reality that those days would be all their days now, she played with her children. She fed them lunch. She read to them. In the late afternoon, she took down the Christmas decorations and packed them back in the storage shed, letting the kids ‘help.’ They took Kodi on a short walk in the cold, and Bo collected his customary pail of rocks and twigs.
Gia was quiet and compliant all day, and it made Lilli worried. She was by nature a talkative, opinionated kid, and she spent most of her days instructing her little brother on the right way to do just about everything. Devoted to his sister and much quieter than she, Bo was happy to be instructed. Today, with Gia so quiet, and Lilli, too, Bo was a little lost. At three, he knew his father wasn’t home right then, but he had no concept of how long he’d be gone. Lilli figured that he only knew things weren’t as they should be.
After dinner, Gia ‘helped’ her wash dishes and tidy the kitchen while Bo lay on Kodi on the living room floor and watched a Bob the Builder DVD. Then Lilli gave each child a bath and set them up for their normal ritual of stories and bed. Also sensing that all was not right with his family, Kodi followed them all around more diligently than usual, parking himself in the threshold to Gia’s room, facing outward, when it was time for bedtime stories.
Pip, being a cat, and an independent one at that, was unaffected by Isaac’s absence. He was still sulking about the addition of a dog. and spent most of his day curled in his basket on top of the gun cabinet in the master bedroom, where he was sure to be undisturbed.
They always did stories in Gia’s room. Isaac had made her a beautiful canopy bed, and Lilli had dressed it in yellow bedding—yellow was a color that Gia had naturally been drawn to. On this night, as every night that she did story time—and that would now be all the nights—Lilli sat propped up in the middle of the bed. Bo, wearing red fleece footie pajamas, climbed up and tucked himself in the crook of an arm, planting his thumb in his mouth.
Gia, though, was still seated at her little desk, one bare leg swinging under her flannel nightie, the foot of the other caught by the toes over the balcony of the gargantuan Victorian dollhouse Isaac had built for her and filled with handmade furniture. He’d begun to build that as soon as he’d learned they were having a little girl.
“You coming, G? I thought you wanted Stellaluna tonight.”
“Just a minute, Mamma.” She was writing something down in her little, padded pink planner—part of a desk set that had been Show and Shannon’s Christmas gift to her. Only last week. She closed her marker and then the book, but brought them both with her as she climbed up and curled in the crook of Lilli’s other arm.
“What do you have there?”
Gia opened the planner, the red marker tight in one fist. She pointed to the date—this date. In her young, careful scrawl, she’d written Daddy left. Then she’d marked an ‘X’ over the date. “That’s today, right?”
All of the muscles in her body had suddenly petrified, and Lilli couldn’t answer right away. When Gia looked up at her, her sweet brow furrowed, though, she found some balance. “Yeah, cara. That’s today. Good job.”
Gia held the planner up. “I want to mark when he’ll come home, but I don’t know where it is in here.”
It was a yearly planner.
Dragging up more strength, Lilli kept her voice calm and easy. “That day isn’t in here, Gia. The book is only for kindergarten and part of first grade. Do you remember when Daddy said he’d be home?”
Gia nodded, her brow still creased. “Sixth grade.”
“Right.” Middle school. Jesus.
“I want a book that has sixth grade in it, too.”
Lilli didn’t think they made planners that went out as far as that. And she didn’t want to contemplate the vast, bloody sea of red ‘Xs’ between this date and that one, even if they did. But she smiled down at her daughter’s lovely face, her eyes exactly like her father’s, and she smiled. “Maybe we can make one.”
~oOo~
My love,
Not even a full day without you, and already I don’t know how I’m going to do this. I’m sitting in bed. Our bed. Alone. And I don’t know how I’m going to do this. This house, this home is not right without you in it. The kids and I aren’t right without you. They are breaking my heart. To think of them growing up without you is killing me. They need you. I need you. I think I’m all out of strength.
Lilli set the paper and pen aside. She would never send him a letter like that. Never. To the limited extent that she had power over what he had to endure, she would make it as easy on him as she could. She would not make it harder. She turned out the light, slid under the covers, and pulled Isaac’s pillow to her face, breathing his scent deeply. Then, her children asleep and her man far away, she cried into his pillow until the cosmos took some pity on her and let her sleep.
X
The 57th Day
The white Formica tables were bolted to the floor, but the chairs moved. Lilli and Gia sat in chairs next to each other; Bo sat in Lilli’s lap. One table over, Tasha and Show sat. Waiting. Isaac and Len had been away almost two months, and finally, finally they had visitation.
Both Gia and Bo were sitting quietly, wide eyed, overwhelmed by the strangeness of the place. Lilli felt sure it wasn’t the rough men sitting around them with their families. Gia and Bo lived in a world of rough men. But there was an unsettling vibe to the place. A cocoon of suspicion and hostility around it.
It was Saturday, so the visiting room was nearly full. She’d thought they’d have seven hours with them. After fifty-seven days apart, seven hours felt simultaneously like a world of time and none at all—but by the time they all got through the first-time visitor processing, two of those hours had passed them by. Now, they were all sitting, impatiently waiting. Every time the door opened and a man in a khaki inmate’s uniform walked through, Lilli’s heart nearly went straight through her throat. And every time it was someone other than Isaac, the disappointment dizzied her. Time was ticking. They only had four hours and forty-four minutes left with him.
At four hours and thirty-seven minutes left, the door opened, and a beautifully familiar body filled the space.
Gia leapt to her feet. “That’s Daddy! That’s Daddy, Mamma!”
“Yeah, cara, it is.” Lilli stood, putting Bo down and taking his hand.
The guard at the door let him through, and Gia ran forward. Alarmed, worried that they would be asked to leave if their daughter appeared unmanageable, Lilli hissed “Gia!”
Show grabbed her before she got more than a couple of steps, and they waited for Isaac, with Len right behind him, to make their way to their tables.
Len was sporting a head of short, grey hair and a healing cut across his right ear. Isaac was sporting a fading but still nasty bruise on his left cheek. His eyes were locked with hers as he approached his family.
When he was close enough that it wouldn’t cause trouble, Lilli sent the kids forward, and they both ran to their father, who squatted and clutched them close, tucking their heads to his shoulders, his eyes closed. Lilli could sense him trying to soak in the feel of them, to try to keep it with him when they left. Show and Len embraced, and Lilli looked over at Tasha, who smiled back. She, too, was holding off for last.
When Isaac stood, he clasped Show hard, and Lilli heard Show say, “I’m not stayin’ the whole time, brother. I’ll leave you with your family. Just needed my own eyes to see you whole.” Isaac nodded as he let him go.
And then there was no one between her and Isaac. He smiled the lopsided smile she loved. “Hey, Sport.”
“Isaac.” Her vision swam. Jesus Christ, she was going to cry.
“Don’t, baby.”
She nodded and swallowed, and then his arms were around her; she felt the strength of his love for her in his thick, iron embrace, and she was fighting the tears again. “Please, Lilli,” he murmured into her hair. “Come on.”
“I’m sorry.” She reclaimed control just as he lifted her head and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, for them, a lingering of lips, a soft sweep of his tongue, and then it was over. But her knees were weak. And he was flushed and panting.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck.” He looked over his shoulder at a guard, and then he led her to the table, lifting Bo onto his lap as he sat, and pulling Gia’s chair up against his. At once, Gia leaned on his arm, circling her arms around his bicep. Physical contact with his children was allowed. Lilli could only hold his hand now, until the end of the visit. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed hers, linking their fingers.
Bo reached up and patted his bruised cheek. “Ouchie, Daddy.”
Isaac smiled at his son. “Yeah, little man. But I’m okay. You should see the other guy.” He winked, and Bo nodded in agreement, perfectly certain that the other guy looked much worse.
Lilli wasn’t so sure, and she shot him a look.
“It’s okay, Sport. Just jockeyin’. That kind of stuff’s gotta happen.” He dropped his voice with a conspiratorial smirk. “And you really should see the other guy.”
For a couple of hours, they chatted amiably, Isaac holding close to his family, Len and Tasha holding hands like Isaac and Lilli, Show sitting among them, obviously feeling more and more awkward. Not allowed to bring toys or books into the visiting room with them, Gia and Bo were growing bored along the same trajectory as Show’s discomfort. Even Gia, who’d counted days and then hours before this visit, was running low on patience for sitting and talking. She’d told her father every story she had, described all of her school work, her classmates, and her teacher. She’d regaled him with stories about Kodi. When even she had nothing left to say and was fidgeting in her seat, Show stood.
“I’ll take the kids with me. Get ‘em some McDonald’s or somethin’, then we’ll be back for the ladies at three.”
Isaac looked shredded, and Lilli figured he felt the same relief and disappointment she felt—only tenfold. She would have preferred their kids to be happy with every precious second they were able to be with their father, but they were young. And the thought of having hours alone with him—well, as alone as they could be—was alluring, to say the least. But her heart broke to see him hug his children and watch Show take them away. When Gia stopped at the door to the rest of the world and turned to wave and blow him a kiss, he returned it and muttered, “Fuck, that hurts.”
“I know, love. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and grabbed her hand again. “Nothing to do now but get through.” His eyes on hers, he said, “Tell me. You’re doin’ okay?”
“Yeah. We have a routine. We’re busy. The B&B will be open in another few weeks, Gia’s got school. It’s weird how much is the same when everything is so fucking different.”
“Right,” he laughed. “Can’t say the same.”
“Sorry. God, that was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry.” Reflexively, she jerked her hand, but he held fast.
“It’s all good, Sport. I just want you okay. If you and the kids are okay, then I can do this. That’s what I need to get through. You okay, and waiting for me.”
Then that’s what they would be. No matter what, for Isaac, they would be okay. And waiting. Always waiting.
~oOo~
They spent that night in the same roadside motel rooms they’d spent the previous night. Tasha had wanted to go to the bar down the side road, but Lilli had the kids and wasn’t in the mood anyway, so she turned in with them while Show took Tash down for drinks. Len’s old lady was having trouble being alone. Lilli thought that was interesting, because she herself could barely stand people around her at all anymore. Even Shannon. Things were tolerable as long as they were talking about getting the business open, or even talking about Millie and Joey, or about Adrienne’s pregnancy, and as long as they were working as Shannon talked. But Lilli did not want to talk about herself or anything about her life. No.
The only person she could stand to talk to was Show. Only he understood Isaac like she did. In some ways, he understood him better. And only he could begin to approach an understanding of what it was like not to have him. But even with him, she was reticent.
So she bathed her kids, read to them, and tucked them in, then got into bed with a book. She tried to focus on the words, but all she could think of was Isaac. His smell, how it was both familiar and alien now, an institutional layer of prison over the scent she knew so well. The feel of his arms around her again. His beard on her face when he kissed her. The clutch of his fingers on her hips when a guard called him off from their goodbye. Remembering the feel of him, she was wet and restless. But her kids were sleeping in the next bed. She cast the book aside with a sigh and tried to shut her eyes.
After tossing and turning for who knew how long, she opened her eyes and saw that Bo had turned sideways in his sleep. His head was hanging off the bed; his feet lay on his sister’s belly. Chuckling quietly, Lilli got up and settled him more safely and comfortably on the pillow.
She saw the glow of a cigarette through the closed sheers filling the gap in the curtains that wouldn’t close all the way, and she went to the peephole to see. Show was standing out there, smoking. She hadn’t thought he still smoked, not since the twins. Yanking a hoodie over her yoga pants and tank, she went out onto the walkway overlooking the parking lot, turning the security bolt on the door so it would catch on the jamb and she wouldn’t lock herself out.
“Hey, Lilli.”
“You okay?”
“Sure. Couldn’t sleep.”
“You get Tasha the drunk she was looking for?”
He grinned. “I’d say so. Think she’ll be pretty quiet on the drive tomorrow.”
Indicating his cigarette, she said, “I thought you stopped.”
“Did. Bought a pack at the mini-mart next to the bar. I’ll smoke a couple and be done again. I come around the twins smelling like smoke, and Shannon will make me pay. But I needed a nic hit tonight.”
“Because of today?”
“That was hard. Didn’t expect it to be easy, but that was hard.”
“Yeah, it was. Are they really okay, you think? The cuts and bruises aren’t a thing?”
“They live in a jungle now, Lilli. Gotta thump your chest every now and then, show who’s the baddest gorilla in the banana grove. You know that.” He turned a wry eye on her. “You think either of them’s gonna lose a straight-up chest-thump? No, when it’s trouble, it won’t be a beating. If somebody goes for him, he’ll get shanked.”
Lilli leaned back against the filthy, faded siding of the motel. “If that was supposed to make me feel better, you really fucking suck at it.”
His cigarette smoked down, he dropped the butt to the walkway and stubbed it out under his boot. “You gotta come back out into the world now, Lilli.”
“What?”
“Come back to the family. People are goin’ crazy with worry. Let us help you.”
“Fuck you, Show.” She pushed off the wall and turned for her door, but his enormous hand wrapped around her arm, and he pulled her around.
“I made a promise.” He gritted the words out. “I promised him I would take care of his family. I keep my fucking promises. And you are going to wither and die, you and the kids, Isaac’s kids, if you don’t come back to the people who understand. You can’t spend the next six years on your own, Lilli. I see what you’re doing. Pulling up the drawbridge. Fuck that.”
Furious and again on the verge of tears—she spent every goddamn, motherfucking minute of her empty fucking life on the verge of tears now—she yanked hard on her arm, but he only clamped down more tightly. So she twisted, trying to dislodge him and get his arm behind his back. He anticipated her with a grim laugh, and she ended up caught in a bear hug instead.
“I know you by now, girl. And you’ve lost your edge. But I’ll spar if you want.”
“Dammit, Show.” But there was no fire in the words. Instead, tucked firmly to his chest, Lilli just gave up. He held her while she cried. She cried a lot these days, but this was the first time she’d done it where someone could see.
X
The 79th Day
Shannon knew how to throw a party, that was a certainty. She was really in her element when she had an event to plan, and Lilli thought she’d outdone herself for the reopening of the B&B. The whole town came out, and a crowd of people from well beyond. Press had shown up, too—reporters from Springfield and St. Louis, one with a camera crew. And a national travel magazine sent somebody. There was a story to be found in the B&B that had risen up twice from the ashes.
Lilli was suspicious of reporters and cameras, so she made herself as scarce as was possible and left Shannon to do what she did best. There was a ribbon-cutting, and the guests who had booked the first room got the honors. There was food and music on the front grounds. Badger was running trail rides. Adrienne—looking sweet and glowy with her little belly, dressed in the kind of bright, boho chic ensemble that was her signature style—gave guided tours of the reborn facility and grounds.
Lilli’s English garden, and the arts-and-crafts gazebo Isaac had built with his own hands, had been destroyed in the fire. She hadn’t found the will this spring to replant the garden, so they’d had a professional landscaper do it. And now there was a generic, violently typical white gazebo in its center.
She avoided going back there.
The day was a great success. It was only early April, but the B&B was booked weekends through the summer, and weekdays were starting to fill up a little, too. They were light on weddings; few brides wanted to commit their special day to a facility that hadn’t been up and running yet. Now that they were, the fall wedding bookings were starting. And Shannon was confident that they’d get enough late-planners and last-minute-panickers to fill out the summer enough, too.
Standing on the porch, Lilli figured there was probably no sign of the destruction this earth had seen. But she saw it everywhere. In the simple difference of the building. In the rigid perfection of the landscaping. Everywhere.
The kids were down at the corral with Badger, looking at the horses. She decided that she’d done enough socializing, had fulfilled her obligations as owner of the property, and could take her kids and go home to some peace and quiet. But then Shannon was at her side. “Sneak back to the kitchen for a cup of coffee with me?”
“Oh. Sorry, Shan. I was just thinking about getting the kids home. It’s been a tiring day for them.”
“Lilli. Just a cup. Come on.” Her friend took her hand. “I miss you.”
She looked across the grounds and saw Badger had Toby tied at a post and was lifting Gia onto a stepstool so she could brush him. Bo was throwing a stick for Weasel.
“Okay.”
X
The 180th Day
“I can’t go this weekend.” Tasha poured milk into her coffee and then pushed the little pitcher across the table to Lilli.
“What? Why?” Lilli added milk to her cup and then pulled three packets of sugar out of the tin next to the napkin dispenser. A couple of months earlier, as Lilli had started to peek out of the hole she’d made herself, she and Tasha had started meeting twice a week at Marie’s for coffee, and sometimes pie. Even on a hot July day like this, coffee and pie was a nice combination.
“I just saw Tiffany Knox this morning. She’s got an infection and is running a high fever. I need to make sure she’s responding to the antibiotics I prescribed. She’s only eight months old, and she’s not a strong little girl. I need to stay close.”
Tiffany Knox was Jerri Rae Knox’s baby girl. Lilli shook her head. Jerri Rae had been a club girl for a few years, before she’d strayed from the club and gotten herself knocked up. Now, she was living where she’d grown up, with her grandfather, her mother, and her little girl, all of them living on one kind of assistance or another. Lilli hadn’t bothered herself much with the club girls, at least not in their capacity as available pussy or in their drama-filled troubles—Len had had far more patience for all that nonsense than she had. But she’d gotten to know them all when she was running the clubhouse. Jerri Rae was sweet, but she was dim as a sooty lantern. She’d tried to get Badger in some trouble, which hadn’t endeared her to anybody who could help her.
“Tasha, you have to go. Can’t Jerri Rae take her to the hospital if she gets worse?”
“The hospital is an hour away, and she drives that ancient clunker. Things can go wrong fast with a baby, especially one with Tiffany’s problems. I need to stay. I’ll go in two weeks.”
Lilli slammed her hand on the table, making everything on it rattle, and getting Marie’s attention at the counter. “Tasha! Jesus! You have to go! How is Jerri Rae’s kid more important than your old man!”
“She’s not! But she could die if she takes a turn, and I am her doctor. I took an oath.”
“You took a vow to Len, too!”
Tasha’s eyes went cold and hard. “Lilli, you need to step back, now. Len and I talked about stuff like this. He will understand, and he’s the only person I give a fuck about understanding. So back off.”
Lilli threw herself back against the booth seat and scowled at her coffee. They sat in silence, neither drinking or even moving.
“Lilli, I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. You’re the only person who gets what this is like. We need to be okay, you and me.”
“Then come this weekend.”
Tasha huffed in frustration. Not for the first time since they’d sat down and started this talk, Lilli pushed back the urge to just slug her across the table.
“You’re projecting.”
Oh, yeah. That punch was looking really likely. Lilli glared. “Is that bullshit left over from your psych rotation in med school?”
Tasha didn’t take the bait. “I think you’re afraid if you miss even one visit, Isaac will worry that you’re drifting away from him. But Lilli, you know that’s not true. He knows what you have. He’s stronger than that, and you know it.”
That was willfully reductive reasoning, as far as Lilli was concerned. It wasn’t about whether Isaac was strong enough to go without a visit. It was that he shouldn’t need to be. “They need us.”
“Yeah, they do. And we need them. Seeing Len like that breaks my heart. Visiting days are the best and worst days all at once.” She pushed her coffee cup and saucer to the side and leaned in. “It’s been six months. We have another five and a half years of this—if they get parole the first time it comes up. Do you honestly think you’re going to be able to drive three hundred miles each way every other weekend and never miss one the entire time?”
Lilli leaned in and spoke with all the certainty and determination she could muster—and that was a significant amount. “Yes. If I could see him more than that, I still would not miss a visit. If, God for-fucking-bid, he’s inside longer, I still will not miss a visit.” Slithering up the wall of her mind was the thought that they had two children, either of whom might be sick on a visiting weekend, or might have some sort of important function that weekend. But she turned away from that thought.
They stared at each other again. Then Tasha nodded. “Okay. Okay. I understand. It would be great if you’d understand that Len and I have talked some other scenarios through, too. I don’t need you to understand, but it would be great if you would try. I’m not coming this weekend. I’ll be with you next time.”
For reasons beyond her full comprehension, Tasha’s missing a visit with Len made Lilli feel desolate.
X
The 325th Day
As they’d done almost every year that Lilli had been in Signal Bend, the Horde had a big Thanksgiving feast for the town. The old ladies, as always, worked together, preparing the meal, managing the girls, taking care of the children—and now little Henry had joined their growing brood.
But Shannon ran things now. In truth, she was born for the role. She had changed things up a little from the way Lilli had done them, but she’d been careful and respectful of Lilli, of their friendship, and Lilli didn’t begrudge her at all.
That didn’t mean it was easy to be in this clubhouse without Isaac, to be here knowing that someone else—even Show—wore the President’s patch. She had been comfortable in her life as the Horde’s First Lady. Now, everything felt askew. She didn’t know what her place really was. So she’d been staying away from the clubhouse except for those events, like today, for which she couldn’t come up with a decent reason to avoid.
When her disquiet got so strong she thought she’d just pack up the kids and go home and have sandwiches for Thanksgiving, she’d look over to the couches, where the kids were all sitting together—Gia, Bo, Loki, Millie, and Joey—with toys spread out and a Disney movie on. Henry was just tiny and doing the crowd-surfing thing, everybody taking their turn with him.
Every time Lilli looked for her kids, there were at least a couple of uncles sitting with them and the others, playing or just watching the movie, holding one of them on their knees. Gia and Bo loved it here. She’d been keeping them away from a place they loved. She was going to have to find her way back. It was time.
Later, sitting at the table as Show stood at the head preparing to carve, Lilli felt a pang. Isaac had been furiously emphatic that his children would never spend a single holiday in a prison visiting room. Nor would they spend a holiday without their mother. Their argument about it had been so heated that a guard had warned them twice.
Isaac had assured her that if she ignored him and showed up anyway, he would not come to the Visitor’s Center. He would not be responsible for his children’s holiday memories being of a stark room with a couple of paper decorations taped halfheartedly to reinforced-glass windows.
So Lilli was missing her first visit with him. The first, apparently, of many.
When Show spoke briefly about those who weren’t able to join them but were with them in their hearts, Lilli dropped her head. Tasha, sitting next to her, grabbed her hand, and Lilli held on tight.
X
The 365th Day
My love,
G. marked the 365th “X” in the calendar book she and I made together. She told me she knew it was the 365th, because it had been a year today since you left, and a year has 365 days. She’s a smart cookie.
Then she asked me how many more days left. I chickened out and told her we didn’t have time before bed to figure that out. I guess I’m going to have to deal with that tomorrow.
But I do know. Every day I know how many days are left, if you come home six years to the day from when you went away. 1,826 days left from today. It hurts my heart to write that number.
Lilli read what she’d written and almost set the page aside, in the drawer in her nightstand that was packed with all the other pages she’d written to Isaac and had then realized would hurt him too much to read. But this time, after a moment’s pause, instead of starting fresh, she kept writing.
All those months ago, when you told me you’d rather exchange paper letters than emails, I was a little hurt. I never told you, because I wouldn’t think of denying you something like this. Or anything, that I could give you. But email felt like a faster way to reach out to you, even if it wasn’t, really. You were right, though. I love the idea of you holding these letters as I hold yours. Close to my heart.
I’ve come to need these letters as much as I love them. Ending every night writing you helps me keep my head straight and do what needs to be done out here so that when you come home, you come to the home you deserve.
It’s become my calming ritual, writing you on scented paper, with a fountain pen. We’re like characters out of a Jane Austen novel—the dirty one she wrote when nobody was looking and hid under her mattress next to her twisted 19th-century porn. Haha.
She could almost hear Isaac’s laugh at her sudden, lamely puckish burst of humor, and her melancholy returned with a vengeance. She had to stop and move the paper away before her tears fell and smeared the ink. When she could, she dried her cheeks.
Okay. I’ll write again tomorrow night and be more newsy. This is all I have tonight.
Ti amo. Ti amo, ti amo.
L—