Dear Meredith (12 page)

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Authors: Belle Kismet

BOOK: Dear Meredith
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            "Meredith."

            My heart stops, then slams back into action in double time.
It can't be.
But I know better, and I start walking again, unable to stop myself. "Jamie?"

            My brother's face emerges out of the shadows, unshaven and tired, an uncertain smile on his face. He looks older, I think irrationally, despite the knowledge that I haven't seen him in ten years.

            My gaze drops further down as he is revealed under the moonlight.

            In his hand, is a heavy cream envelope and I know that the scrawl of black ink on it spells out my name.

 

 

Chapter 13

           

            "Jamie -
what are you doing here?
" I am rooted to the spot, my legs suddenly forgetting how to function after seeing Mike's final letter in his hand.

            His smile turns wry, as he holds it up. "I'm delivering your letter."

            I struggle to process his words. "So
you've
been the one dropping my letters off?"

            He nods, and I realise he's feeling as awkward and uncertain as me. My heart gives a painful tug, I never expected to see my older brother ever again.

            Wordlessly, I walk up the steps and open the door, switching on the lights. I turn to him, a silent invitation to enter the house. His shoulders drop slightly in relief - I still know how to read his body language - and he comes inside.

            We stare at each other silently for a long while, and I notice how weathered he looks now, as though he's spent the majority of his time outside doing physical labour. But he looks unmistakably healthier - his collarbones no longer protrude out in sharp relief, the sallow, sunken look on his face gone from the last time I saw him.

            It had been our worst and last fight. I had just turned eighteen, old enough to move out on my own. Jamie was twenty-three, and despite refusing to admit it, I knew he was a drug addict. It had been ten years since he'd yanked me to safety in the swimming pool, and my older brother was no longer the hero I had blindly adored, my rock in an ever-shifting world of foster homes.

            We had fought over the missing one hundred dollars in my purse, money I had desperately needed to pay as a deposit to the landlord. I knew he had taken it, he had been walking around hollow-eyed for days, looking more and more desperate each day, snarling at me when I questioned the shaking in his hands and the way he constantly wore three-quarter length sleeves now.

            "Get out!" I had shrieked at last, driven to tears of anger and desperation while he stared at me emotionlessly, refusing to admit his guilt. "
You're no brother of mine anymore
. I never want to see you again," I told him, meaning every word, exhausted from the endless quarrels, the worry about money. The knowledge that my brother, who was supposed to protect me, had betrayed me by stealing from me. He had left that very day.

            And now, here he sits before me, a new weariness and vulnerability in his eyes, the last ten years a huge stone wall between us.

            "Mike contacted me," he says at last. "Don't ask me how, but I got a call from him out of the blue one day. He told me he was dying, and asked if I'd like to see you again. I jumped at the chance - I'd been trying to look for you but it was like you disappeared."

            I say nothing. It is true, I had moved away soon after, unable to bear living anymore in the city that had brought me so much unhappiness. Only Laney had known where I'd gone.

            "He asked me to drop the first letter off a month after his funeral, and the second one another month later. The third, he asked me to deliver to you in person, two months later. So, here I am."

            I stare at the letter placed on the table between us. Mike's work again. I look up at Jamie, he meets my gaze steadily, although his hands are trembling slightly.

            "I'm sorry, baby sister. I was an idiot. I'm sorry for hurting you, for driving you away when it was just the both of us against the world. I'm sorry I wasn't around to meet Mike, to walk you down the aisle," he says, harsh guilt written all over his face, his voice faltering as I hold up my hand.

            All of a sudden, it doesn't matter anymore; the past ten years fall away as I understand that my brother is back, I've got my brother back now. I go over to him and we embrace for a long moment, our foreheads pressed together the way we used to do when we were children.

           

            There is a definite chill in the air now, a precursor of the cold months to come. My hands are shoved into my jacket as I trace my familar route through the graveyard, Bandit bouncing along beside me, oblivious to the cold.

            I drop down onto the grass, look up at the evening sky. It's a beautiful day, and I smile at the sunflowers placed gently against his gravestone. Janet must have paid a visit yesterday.

            His gravestone doesn't look so new anymore, weathered slightly in the past few months, and the grass is thick and springy underneath me. "Hi, Mike," I say, as I draw out the envelope from my bag.

            It seems fitting, somehow, that I read his last words to me here, where I feel his presence most.

           

           
Dear Meredith,

            How are you, darling? As I write this, I am imagining you swimming towards me with strong, confident strokes, your green eyes glittering with happiness.

            I hope with all my heart that the swimming lessons were a success and that Candy Cane Brendan has been successfully banished from your mind forever. You have forgiven me, I trust, for springing such an awful surprise on you! I thought long and hard about it, and decided it was worth risking your anger and bewilderment if you managed to overcome this fear.

            Somehow, I have this feeling that you have.

            My last gift to you is Jamie. He's a part of you that's missing, although you would never admit it. He's a changed man now, and he wants desperately to be a brother to you again. I've wished often enough for a sibling to know how precious that bond is.

            As I draw nearer to the end, the words I want to say to you have become clearer in my head. There's no longer room for doubt, no more time to leave things unsaid, the way people so often do.

            When I first met you, I was struck by how you seemed completely unaware of how strong you were. All alone in the world, still heartbroken at the loss of your brother, you had nevertheless found a path for yourself, surviving on your own.

            And yet you never embraced this part of yourself, choosing only to see the good in others instead. You certainly brought out the best in me. Falling in love with you was the easiest - and best - decision I have ever made.

            Meredith, it's time now for you to really live for yourself. You owe it to yourself to bring out the best in you. I have the oddest feeling that you know this already.

            Lastly, I want you to feel free to love again. There's so much room in your heart - and there's someone out there who is deserving of it. I won't be jealous, I promise. After all, when someone has been loved the way you love me, that kind of love never really goes away.

            It's time to bid goodbye now. My steps on the path stop here and you must go ahead.

            I'll always be looking over you, from wherever I am.

            I love you, forever.

 

            Michael 

           

           
I know now what my dreams mean. I see again Michael standing just beyond the forest opening, his hand lifted up in a silent farewell.

            "Goodbye, my darling," I murmur now, a fierce throbbing in my heart.

           
Thank you,
I say silently, feeling him around me more than ever.
Thank you for giving me the sense of self-worth I never had. Thank you for loving me so deeply that even death can't take that protection away from me.

           
I fold the letter up carefully, replace it into my bag. As the sun begins its daily odyssey towards the horizon, I whistle for Bandit and turn to walk back towards my car, one step at a time.

 

END
  

           

           

 

 

           

 

 

 

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