Grace
April 7, 2020
Are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay?
Love? Honey? Baby? Hun? Babe?
It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.
I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.
Yes? Yes? Yes? Yes? Yes?
I know. I know. I know.
I was tired of her questions and tired of my answers. The last few days had been a flurry of repetition. We were getting into a new rhythm and I hated it. A new normal meant things were normal, and they weren’t. Never would be again. I sighed and buried my face in my pillow. I didn’t bother to change out of my clothes; the shorts and tee I was wearing were comfy enough. I tossed a blanket over myself and tried to sleep. I failed pretty miserably, though.
“Mom?” I called out. She opened the door a moment later.
“In bed already?” She joked. I shrugged and nodded. “Rough day?” I nodded again.
“Do you want dinner?” I shook my head. “Alright. Well, what do you need?” I pondered the words. Then I whispered a reply.
“You,” I breathed.
“Sorry?” She asked me to repeat it.
“Stay?” I begged quietly. She nodded and smiled sadly. Then she lay with me on my bed until finally sleep found me.
April 11, 2020
I woke early to the brightness of the morning sun. I yawned and reached beneath my pillow for my notebook and pen. I flipped through the pages, finding the next blank one. There weren’t many left. I sighed and began to write another letter.
Kelly,
I miss you far too much. It is so hard here without you. You are probably getting tired of my letters and wishes and complaints,p; I am, too. It just sucks here without you. No way am I getting over this any time soon. I wish for your smile and your laugh. I wish for you to be back and safe and alive. Wherever you are, I hope you are happy. I love you.
Gracie-Pacey
I yawned and tucked the notebook back under my pillow, along with the pen I had used. I journeyed to the living room and began breakfast.
Mom joined me minutes later, and we enjoyed ourselves a bowl of Frosted Flakes and some yogurt. I smiled at her and didn’t mention the letter. Hers nor mine. I think she was right through me because she asked;
“Have you written any more letters to Kelly?”
Yes. Every day. I have a whole journal of them under my pillow. She didn’t need to know that, though. I shook my head and asked her if she had. She lied and responded with a ‘no, it seems pointless.’ I was disgusted but I didn’t show it.
Instead I finished my breakfast and escaped to my room. I sat on my bed and cried into my pillow, unsure if I was upset at her or myself.
May 19, 2020
I had spent the month wishing for Kelly, just as I had the others. Me and mom weren’t on the best of terms. I was angry at her for so many reasons, and she felt the same. I ignored her as much as I could, fighting the urge to pick at my nails or bite them. I did that when I was anxious. It was a miracle I had any fingers at all; the last few months had been rough. I pulled a notebook from under my pillow and read through the notes I had written.
Thirty-seven in all.
“Kelly,” I recited. “I miss you. I love you. I know you won’t get this letter but I feel good writing it. I wish you would write back. More than that I wish you were here. With me. The days have been hard. I’m struggling. I need you. It’s obvious now, though I didn’t see it before,
I need you.” I wiped a tear from my cheek and read another. And another. And another. I reached the last one far too soon. I was a mess by then. I cried and cried and cried. The notebook was the slightest bit wet. Still, I read on.
“Kell Bell,” I breathed through tears. “I need you. I miss you. I love you. You are gone but here. I think of you daily. Momently, if that’s a thing. I miss you so, so much. I love you and need you here and I seriously wish you were. There is not a moment right now that I don’t. I cry about you so much, I’ve no tears left. But you deserve each and every tear. Each and every one of the bits of my heart that I’ve lost because of your death. You deserve the world, Kelly, and I’d give it to you if I could. Really. Right now I’m busy giving you my heart and love, even though you have it already.
I love you, Kelly. I really, really do. Goodbye, Kell Bell.” I snorted up snot and tears as I cried into my pillow. I sat and cried for who knows how long. Could have been minutes, could have been hours. Once the crying had quieted, I rose and left for the bathroom. I rinsed my face and put makeup over it. My eye bags were so deep, they could carry mom’s groceries. I looked refreshed as I left and went to the couch. I sat in the corner and picked up the remote. I switched on the TV and skimmed through Netflix. I settled on a movie and pressed play before standing to prepare popcorn and grab a soda.
Halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang. I groaned and stood to open the door. Mom was back with the groceries, I assumed. I pulled the door open lazily. I turned my back to her, waiting for her to thank me.
She didn’t. She just waited in the doorframe. I finally turned around, looking her way. At the sight of their face, I screamed. They laughed and I kept on screaming. Finally, I whispered.
“Kelly?”
May 20, 2020
To say I was happy about Kelly’s arrival would be an understatement. And saying mom was shocked would be, too. I was downright giddy and she practically fainted.
“How are you here?” She had whispered as she used the couch to steady himself. He had sighed and swiped at a tear. She repeated the question. He finally answered.
“Jayson,” he’d breathed. “He…He saved my life.” My eyes widened. Mom gasped.
“Is he..?” She asked quietly. He bowed his head and wiped away his tears.
“I’m so sorry,” she’d sighed empathetically. He nodded solemnly. I hugged him tightly and cried into his shoulder.
“I know, Gracie.” He mumbled. “I know.” And we sat together and sobbed and mourned.
May 23, 2020
The next few days were a flurry of activity. Kelly unpacked and moved back into his room. Mom collected herself and fixed up our mess of a house. I stuck by Kelly’s side as if combined by glue, and I refused to let go of his hand. I had gotten him back and I was not letting him out of my sight.
All would have been perfect if dad were there.
“Kelly,” Mom called up down the hall later that day. “It’s for you.” I hurried to the door alongside Kelly, and he ripped open the package. He gasped.
“Oh, Kelly,” mom sympathized. I peered over his shoulder and sucked in a breath.
Jayson’s things lay in the box, identical to the stuff that had been inside of Kelly’s.
“Why is this here?” Kelly wondered quietly.
“I’m not sure,” Mom admitted, reaching inside. “But there’s a note for you.”
Kelly pulled it open with shaking hands. He stared at the open envelope and didn’t take out the note.
“Read it,” I suggested softly, clutching his hand in mine. He gulped and slipped it out. The envelope fell to the floor.
“Kella-Kabob,” he began. I repeated the words confusedly. He nodded. ”His nickname for me,” he agreed before continuing.
“I haven’t been entirely truthful to you. The stories of my mother and sisters are lies. My mother died of Cancer years ago. My father gave in after she died. I never had any sisters. I’m sorry for lying. I didn’t know what you’d think of me if you knew I was an orphan. But when I first met you, you stood up for me. You helped me and you weren’t afraid. I admire that and am honored. When we were told to write these letters, they said to write to our family. They never said we had to be related to them. In the unlikely event that you read this, I have to say; thank you. Thank you, Kelly, for everything. For being my flashlight in the tunnel of dark we crawled through. My blanket from the cold. My brother. I wish you the best and am sorry I am gone.
I hope you are proud.” Kelly paused. “Jaysunshine.”
He broke down quickly. The tears lasted forever.
I cried with him while mom comforted us both.
May 26, 2020
Kelly’s and Jayson’s things had both been tucked into separate boxes. They had been stuffed somewhere in our garage after we had looked through them. Jayson’s box had held the same uniform and outfits. Similar pictures to Kelly’s. Most of them were of the two of them. The only differences were the fact that his hat wasn’t dented and his uniform was soaked with blood.
From the looks of it, he had been shot on the arm. That was where the most blood was.
Kelly had cried looking at it, similar to myself when I had seen his cap. He fought the tears and failed.
“Oh, honey,” mom comforted him. I had merely patted his shoulder and fled to my room.
On my bed I had pulled out my notebook of letters and added a final.
Kelly.
I cannot explain how happy I am that you are home. I am sorry about Jayson. I know he was something special. However, so are you. And you are home. And, whilst I wish for Jayson’s life and your happiness, your homecoming is enough for me. I love you more than imaginable. I am so happy you're okay.
You’re baby Grace.
I closed my eyes and shut the journal, tucking away my pen. I took a deep breath and went to the living room. I peeked inside, searching for my brother. Mom shook her head when she saw me, gesturing to the hall. His door opened a crack as I approached. I knocked on the door quietly.
“Not right now, mom,” he sniffled from inside. Which wasn’t exactly a ‘come in’, but I opened the door fully and entered anyway.
“Gracie,” he gasped, swiping at his eyes as he bolted upright. “What’s.. Going on?” I pulled the journal out from behind my back.
“What’s this?” He asked as I handed it to him.
I left without a word, leaving him alone with his thoughts and mine.
May 30, 2020
Kelly had read the whole of my notes within the hour. He’d cried and cried, soaking the pages as much as I had. I had watched through the doorway at times.
So had mom.
She watched with longing in her eyes as he made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. He hugged me tightly and smiled at her.
“Good morning,” he said and sat down.
“Morning,” mom replied smoothly, handing him his strawberry-banana smoothie and oats. She passed me mine a moment later.
I smiled and took it gratefully, mumbling a quick, ‘morning, thanks’ before digging in. I devoured my smoothie and started on my oats.
“Someone’s hungry,” Kelly joked. I nodded.
“And someone else is happy,” mom pointed out with a grin. I nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, what is with that?” I wondered. He shrugged.
“Your notes,” he admitted. “They reminded me why I had to come home. Why I’m happy to be home.” Mom smiled.
“I love you,” he mumbled. Mom replied,
“I love you, too.” I stayed silent, instead rising to my feet and wrapping him in a hug.
And this time, I didn't let go.
June 3, 2020
After the other day, Mom was more willing to reveal her notes. A pile of neatly folded pages tied together with a bow. She revealed these to us hesitantly, offering me an apologetic smile. I took it with a nod.
She sighed with relief and joined me on the couch. She placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I hugged her tightly. We watched as Kelly read through the letters, tearing up with each passing second. He smiled through the tears. When he had finished reading, he turned to me and mom. He smiled sadly and came over to join our hug. I wrapped an arm around him, and slipped the other into mom’s. Then we stayed there and cried for a long while.
June 7, 2020
I spent the day looking at pictures. I looked first at the ones of just myself and Kelly. When we were grown and when we were young. My first day of middle school. His first day as a Freshman. My eighth birthday. His fourteenth. Easters. Christmas’. New years. My second year. Second month. Kelly’s kindergarten years.
Every new photo was a forgotten memory remembered.
I jumped noticing Kelly over my shoulder.
“That’s cute,” he said quietly, pointing to the picture in my hand. I smiled and pulled him into the seat beside me. He shifted his weight as I moved on to the next picture, which was a selfie of him, me, and dad. I was probably around three. I was sitting on our cream-colored rug and eating ice cream, with cold chocolate cream coating my cheeks and nose. I doubt any had actually ended up in my mouth. Kelly had a small bowl of vanilla in his lap, and was eagerly spooning it into his mouth. He smiled cheerily with ice cream on his chin. Dad was laughing with his spoon in his mouth. In his lap rested the rest of the ice cream container, no bowl. Just a bucket–a pint, maybe?-and an ice cream scooper.
Kelly slipped the picture from my hands and studied it, tears in his eyes.
Mom joined us moments later.
` “What are you guys..?” she started to ask, peering over Kelly’s shoulder at the picture. She sighed.
“Oh.” She hugged us both tightly, and I stared at the final picture. Me, mom, Kelly, and dad. Complete and whole. It fluttered to the floor and I clutched mom and Kelly.
This was our family.
Not quite whole, but wholly happy. 65Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrENYFcdXXy
