60. MATTHEWS

MATTHEWS

I spent the entire flight staring at the letters, never pulling the elastic band off, but playing with the corners of the stack. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was inside of them. If there was any hope of me moving on from Cael, for good this time, knowing what was inside wouldn’t change anything.

“Hey, there’s my sad baby.” Bobbi stood against a wall just beyond the arrivals gate in a silky orange sundress, her hair loose around her face. Brown eyes watched my every move as I strolled toward. “I missed that heavenly face.” She scrunched her cute little nose up against me and wrapped me up in a hug. “Are you hungry?” She asked me, and kicked my sneakers with her white cowboy boots.

“I’m starving,” I whined and fell into her arms.

The ride to the restaurant wasn’t long, but I had been uncomfortable since leaving Harbor, and I didn’t expect the guilt to subside anytime soon.

“Earth to M.” Bobbi waved a ring-laden hand in my face. “I have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t know if I can handle any surprises today, Bobbi.” I squeezed her hand as she led me toward the restaurant. But my opinions changed when I slid into the booth across from my Momma. “I warned you I couldn't handle it…” I switched sides and tucked into her arms. I let her smell engulf me for a long hug, not wanting or not being able to be the one that pulled away first.

“You drove all the way up here for me?” I asked when I could finally stop crying.

“Bobbi said you’d need me, Lovebug.” she kissed my temple and stared across the table at my best friend .

“Well, Bobbi is never wrong.” I admitted defeat quickly and painlessly, reaching out to take her hand in my own. “I definitely needed you.” Tears stung at my eyes.

“Tell us everything,” Momma said. We ordered martinis and fell into our natural rhythm of conversation. I explained everything that happened in detail, skimming over the ridiculous number of times we nearly got buried in each other.

“And then Julien showed up for Thanksgiving,” I groaned and leaned against the booth.

“Ryan has never known when to keep his nose out of something; he’s still just a loudmouth, meddling teenager,” Momma cursed him.

Bobbi giggled. “Did Cael lose his mind?”

“I wish… he would have given me a reason to hate him,” I said.

“Why are you looking for reasons?” Bobbi scoffed. “There is no timeline of our friendship that exists where you didn’t love Cael. Even under all that bitterness, you still could never find it in you to hate him.”

“What do I even pay my therapist for?” I rolled my eyes.

“So, you just left?” Momma asked. “It sounds like to me you had made up your mind long before Thanksgiving.”

“I had, but it didn’t mean what I wanted was what Cael needed. The decision to stay felt selfish with everything he’s going through. Ryan confirmed as much,” I said and yipped when Momma pinched my underarm. “That hurt.”

“Good, will you stop listening to that man? He hasn't been right in the head since the day Rainey got sick, and he’s not the authority on your heart or Cael’s,” Momma scolded me with a huff of air. “I raised you better than that.”

“Don’t piss off Momma Matthews.” Bobbi put both her hands in the air, and I was met with a wink.

“Do you have any Advil?” Momma asked, and I pointed to my purse without taking my focus off Bobbi.

“Ryan’s sheer stupidity aside, what do you want?” She asked, but before I could answer, I was smacked on the shoulder .

“Stop it, I’m emotionally traumatized. I don't need you beating me up too.” I laughed and shoved her away playfully, my eyes trailing down to what she had hit me with.

“What are these?” Momma asked, holding the stack of letters up.

“Forty of the three hundred and something letters Cael has sent me over the last seven years,” I said without breathing.

“What?” Bobbi leaned across the table, snatched them out of her hands and pulled the elastic back without the careful hesitation I had.

“Wait,” I yelped like she had snapped me with it and she looked up with concern across her face. “I haven’t looked at them,” I blurted out.

“That boy went full romance novel on you, and you haven’t read the letters?” Bobbi scoffed, “Are you serious, right now?”

“I–” The words were silenced by the sound of ripping paper. “Whatever is in those will just break my heart more than it already is. They won’t change anything.”

“The hell, they won’t. I’m still confused about the details and why you’re sitting here and not in Rhode Island with knockoff Nick Carter.” Bobbi pulled the first letter out and unfolded it, her eyes scanning the pages. She looked up at me and back down with a giggle. “Did you really?” She gasped under her breath. “Clementine Mary Matthews.”

“Bobbi!” I tried to snatch the letter from her.

“I’m just kidding.” She handed the letter over.

I smiled at his chicken scratch and ran my fingers over the messy ink.

Clem, I can’t decide if writing these first thing in the morning or after a tortuous day of school is better. English class is hell without you doing my homework, and I swear the teacher can’t understand a damn thing I’m saying to her half the time. The accent isn’t that thick, but everyone seems to tease me about it anyway. The gym teacher calls me Cowboy… I don’t even own a cowboy hat. Every time I think I’m getting the hang of things I picture you lying in the grass, bathing in the sun with your bottom lip between your teeth as you concentrate on your homework. You derail every thought I have. I miss you. Cael.

“ You derail every thought I have ,” Bobbi swooned, pretending to faint and sinking against the table as she wrapped her fingers around the stem of her martini glass. “That boy was down bad.”

“Open another, Lovebug,” my Momma encouraged me with love in her eyes.

Dear Clem, Six months of sliding these letters in the mail bin with Susanna every morning and coming home to them gone. I just hope you’re getting them. Every time the phone rings, I race Mama to it just hoping to hear you on the other end. Dad says I need to start my life here, that chasing your ghost around is affecting my school work. He’s wrong, he always is, but arguing doesn’t help me or him. He’ll never understand how hard this is. He wasn’t the one ripped away from the one person who loved him. No, he dragged her across the country to this hell hole. Graduation is in a few weeks. I had some girls ask me to prom, but there’s only one girl I ever wanted to take, and she won’t even call me back . That was mean, I’m sorry. I hope you still wear purple. It makes your eyes soft. Cael.

“I don’t think you’ve worn purple in years,” Momma said softly .

“That’s because he likes it when I do…” I rubbed the paper between my hands. Every ounce of my new personality was still attached to him, just in spite of him, and I hated the realization.

Clem, I have something that feels like a secret: I met a boy today. His name is Dean, and he reminded me of you. His eyes might be blue, but I see you when he looks at me. It’s hard to explain. He’s funny and smells nice. He laughs with his whole body like you do and I don’t know… when I’m around him, it’s not so hard to be alive. I hope that maybe you found someone like that, even just a friend. I’m sorry I stopped calling. It got hard to hear the answering machine every time. I just wished you’d answer. I love you. Cael.

“ The Dean?” Bobbi mouthed.

I nodded. I couldn’t even believe he had even told me about that. But of course, he had. He was never one to keep secrets. My heart swelled knowing that the reason he’d grown so close to Dean was because he found the comforts of home with the first baseman.

“So Cael’s bisexual?” Momma asked.

“Uh yeah,” I confirmed, looking up from the table. “I met Dean. He’s well-rounded and really sweet. It seemed like he got Cael through a lot the last couple of years.”

“A heart made to love everyone,” Momma smiled. “I always knew that boy was made of gold.”

“This one smells pretty.” Bobbi held up a purple piece of paper and a piece of dried lavender fell to the table. “Oh my God, it’s the first one.” She held it out of my reach before I could snatch it. God only knows what he put in it from that night .

“Dear Plum, You asked for letters, and I won’t ever deny you.” Bobbi’s mouth fell open in shock. “Alright, if you don’t go back for him, I will.”

“He’s not your type,” I snapped at her and tried to take the letter again.

“I’ll make an exception,” Bobbi giggled and continued reading in a voice that was meant to mock his. “Here’s number one. We left early this morning before the sun came up, and all I could think about was your skin and how it felt to trace every inch of it beneath my fingertips. Maybe I’m still dreaming. ”

“Please stop.” I covered my red cheeks with my hands.

“Woof. Rated N for naughty.” Bobbi winked over the paper.

“Clementine Matthews.” My name rolled from Momma’s mouth in astonishment.

I just prayed it didn’t get any worse because, knowing Bobbi, she’d read it regardless of its television rating.

“ Maybe I’ll open my eyes, and you’ll still be tucked against me, wrapped in my arms where we belong. I miss you already so much it feels like someone has carved a hole in my chest where my heart used to be. If you wake up and find it still in Texas with you, keep it safe. I’ll mail this as soon as we reach Rhode Island. I love you, Clementine. ”

“God, he’s even adorable in letters,” Bobbi scoffed. “I can’t get a girl to even flirt with me for more than five minutes, and he’s been doing it in ink like some Elizabethan-era male escort for seven years! I need you to be so for real with me right now.” She leaned over the table with a playful dip to her brows. “Why are you here?!”

“Because I’m an idiot,” I groaned and rested my forehead against the table.

We continued to open the letters as the pizza came, and tears flowed. Some of them were heartbreaking, and I ached to rewind time so I could be there for him.

Mama died yesterday. We were in the middle of rereading The Outsiders.

And dated a week later .

I wish you were here. But I’m really glad you aren’t.

The short letters were the worst of them. I could feel his agony through the pages, some of them stained and crumpled from previously being wet. I couldn’t imagine being alone like that.

“Poor Honeybug.” My Mom read one of the longer ones when I couldn’t get past the first sentence. “ Mama collapsed yesterday. Dean and I found her. I don’t know how long she had been there but she doesn’t look good, and Dad isn’t answering his phone. I thought about calling your Momma, but I don’t even know what I should say. ”

Opening them out of order was torture. The next one was worse.

Clem, I don’t know if I can do this. Mama keeps denying food and won’t let me help her anymore. I’m so fucking angry all the time. She just keeps asking for Dad, and he won't leave his office. I don’t know what to do. The doctor said she’ll be gone by the weekend…

“I didn’t realize he was all alone when Mrs. Cody died.” I folded up the short letter announcing her death and leaned against her shoulder.

“It’s funny how a little perspective can change everything,” Momma cooed and ran her hand over my hair.

“How do I rewrite seven years of unanswered questions?” I asked them with tears in my eyes and both of them stared back at me without a solution.