A Lily in the Light(76)
“We’ve nestled ourselves into this world because the rest is too scary.”
Adam held up his hand to protest, but Esme shook her head.
“I keep dancing and reading books and pretending it’s normal not to see my family. You know”—she laughed—“I can’t even talk to my parents without . . . without . . . well, have you ever seen something reflected in a spoon? It’s all distorted and bloated and not the right version of itself anymore, and the more I talk to them, the more I feel that everything’s just wrong. And is it fixed because she’s back now? Of course not. I know that, but I always thought that if she came back, then it would be. I never wanted to accept that it wouldn’t be right no matter what.
“And now she’s coming home, and I’m truly happy, but it’s so confusing, Adam. Look at my life. What kind of straws did we draw? I keep thinking about this time she packed a suitcase to go to the moon. Or the time I was sick, and she listened to my heart with a Fisher-Price stethoscope, but I have no idea who she is now or what she’s been through.”
The words she’d been holding in for years spilled out. She felt cleaner somehow, happy to leave them behind in a hotel room. These four walls had probably seen a lot, and maybe this was what they’d remember about her: she was finally honest.
“You’ll get there,” he said, resting his hand over hers.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “But I don’t even know what ‘there’ is. No one does.”
“No one knew what was through the wardrobe door either.”
Silence fell around them both like a blanket. She wished she could stop time to keep them this way.
“You know,” he said, staring at the ceiling, “I did something today I never thought I’d do.” Adam took a breath. “I called my father.”
Construction workers shouted outside the window as Esme pieced together the little she knew about Adam’s family, his mother in Cuba, his journey on a raft.
“I hadn’t spoken to him since the day some ship picked us up. My mother pushed us away on that raft, and the plan was never that I was supposed to live with my father when we got here, no . . .” Adam shook his head sadly. “My mother had a sister here, and that’s where I was going. She couldn’t take me herself because she wasn’t well, but I didn’t know that then. I didn’t know anything. And I’d always blamed him for it, figured it was his idea somehow and he’d talked her into it because why else would she send me away? A better life, yes, but I wouldn’t have known anything different. But the thing is, I am happy here. I am lucky to be here, and I thanked him for making the journey with me. I doubt we’ll have another reason to talk again, but it brought me a lot of peace to tell him that, and I think he was surprised. The point is we don’t have to live with our pain, Esme. It’s a choice. And you might not agree, but hear me out. Do you remember that day we wanted to burn driftwood to see if it burned blue?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did it matter so much?”
Esme laughed, remembering how important it’d been at the time to prove such a thing was possible, but she didn’t have an answer.
“It wasn’t, but we made it seem important by wanting it so much. If it’s true for the driftwood, it’s true for other things too. Come to Boston, Esme. Let’s start over.” He rested his head against the top of hers. She breathed in his smell of clean soap, the spicy smell of his deodorant. “I wanted you here because you know the version of me I most want to be. Does that make sense?”
Esme nodded, remembering her own younger face pressed against the window of a taxi, riding over the Golden Gate Bridge, an eleven-year-old girl brave enough to leave home and chase a dream, too young to realize that one decision would unfold her future so quickly she wouldn’t even question it. She was filled with longing for that unwritten life, that same foolish bravery. That girl was gone, so far removed in space and time, so she turned to Adam instead and kissed him. Like the little girl she once was, she’d deal with the consequences later and just take joy in the moment, pure, uncomplicated joy.
Adam kissed her back. His hands framed her face and made her feel protected. Her heart hammered in her chest unapologetically, a reminder that she was alive, with a future she couldn’t yet see. She slid onto Adam’s lap and let him hold her like a child. He wrapped his arms around her, and they stayed silent and still, lost in thought. Outside, construction workers struck hammers against wood. Someone dropped a board. Men shouted to each other in French, but they sounded happy. She leaned into Adam, knowing she’d have to decide, or the world would move on without her. Madeline would get married. She’d have her baby. A new generation would begin while Lily’s life was rewinding and fast-forwarding at the same time. Esme didn’t know where she’d fit in with either of her sisters’ new lives, but she wanted to be part of them.
“Yes,” she whispered, overwhelmed by second chances she’d never expected. “I’ll talk to Paul, but I have to meet my sister first.”
Adam squeezed her tighter and let go. “I’m glad,” he said. “Is there anything you’d like to do? Any last thing you’d like to see?”
Esme laughed, surprised by how much she wanted to go home. “I feel like I’ve seen it all. More than I could have asked for.” She slid off Adam’s lap and settled back on the floor beside him.