King 03 - Restless (29 page)

Tasmyn. I know I’ve been saying I miss you. And I do.  But maybe I need to say more. Maybe I need to say that I still believe with all my heart that we are meant for each other. I still know that you are the only girl I will ever love. And I do,  I love you, Tas. Call me.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, it was to the tremendous relief I felt, the sense of freedom. No more lies, no more secrets. I knew I still had to deal with some major consequences, but I felt almost giddy. 

My parents had decided the night before that school was out of the question today. Although it had taken me some time to settle, I had slept heavily and dreamlessly for hours.

After breakfast, my mother and I drove into town to the small police station. Detective Lawrence wasn’t around, but I recognized Officer Burton. He handed me a tablet.

“Detective Lawrence said to tell you to only write what happened yesterday afternoon at Marica Lacusta’s house. You can include your previous visits there as well, but he doesn’t want anything else.” The policeman’s eyes were bland as they met mine, but I heard his speculative thoughts. 

I wrote everything as concisely as I could. Officer Burton scanned it quickly and nodded. 

“You can go now. That’s all we need.” He smiled at my mother and me. “Thank you for your help. You have a good day now, both of you.”

At home, I wandered restlessly from room to room. There were a thousand things I wanted to do: I wanted to call Amber and see if she had been released from the hospital. I wanted to email Anne and Brea and beg them to forgive me for being such a lousy friend over the past months. I wanted to drive out to the nursery and hug Marly and Luke and cry with them and tell them everything. 

Most of all, every fiber of my body and soul was yearning for Michael.

I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t know how to make it happen. I still had every message he had left saved on my phone. He had never stopped leaving them, and each one ended the same way. “Call me.”

But the idea of trying to explain the last few months over the phone seemed wrong. Instead I sat down at my computer. I pulled up the letter I had written back in December, the day my life had begun to fall apart. That seemed like a good place to begin, a way to somehow explain the insanity I’d put us both through.

I added a new page to the same letter, and I began to type.

Dear Michael,

I don’t know where to begin. You can see from the first page, from December, that I did what I thought I had to do. I heard you thinking that maybe you weren’t sure anymore. I don’t know if you really thought that, but it sounded like something that passed through your mind. And I knew that I wasn’t good enough for you. I wasn’t worthy of you. I’m what I’ve always been, a freak. So what I heard go through your mind… that just confirmed for me that I was right, that we weren’t going to last. I convinced myself that letting you go was the kindest thing I could do, because, knowing the truth, how could I keep you with me? How could I do that, knowing that one day, I’d hear you realize that I’m so wrong for you?

Over these past couple of months, I’ve done some things I’m not proud of. I wish I could erase the time and change those decisions I made. But I can’t, and I realized that I have to learn from them, or this time really will be wasted.

So are you wondering what I learned? I learned that I love my parents, and keeping secrets from them makes me crazy. I can trust them, and if I want them to trust me, I have to learn to be completely honest, all the time. I learned that I have some of the most amazing friends in the world, and I hope that the ones I’ve totally alienated will forgive me. I can’t blame them if they won’t, but right now, I’m trying to be hopeful.

I learned that I had an incredible wealth of blessings in my life, and I let myself be talked into giving them up. Marly, Luke and Lela are some of the most important people to me, and I tossed that away. I don’t know how to make that up to them.

But most of all, I learned that in a way, I was right. I never will be worthy of your love. If I haven’t proved how messed up I am this year, I don’t know what will. But that’s okay, because love isn’t about being worthy. It’s accepting someone completely, flaws and all. You’ve always done that for me. You make me feel perfect and beautiful, even when I know I’m not. You never made me feel I had to measure up—that was all me.

So here I am. Pretty messed up, full of flaws. I’m bruised and hurting and trying to find my way back to my life. 

You are my life, Michael. I love you, and I know, more than ever, that what we have is real and true and meant to be. I know that even if you did doubt that, just for the most fleeting of moments, it doesn’t change anything.

All this time, you’ve waited for me. I knew you were there, waiting for me to come back down from whatever insanity stole me away. I’ve listened to all the messages you left me, and I know you never let go of me.

If you can forgive me, if you still want to… I’m here. I’m waiting.

I love you, Michael. 

Love,

Tasmyn

I sat for a long time, re-reading what I had written. Finally, I opened up email, attached my letter, took a deep breath and hit send. 

I hovered by the computer for almost an hour, and my heart leaped every time I heard the tone indicated a new email message. But none of them were from Michael.

I heard the doorbell ring, but I ignored it, knowing my mother would answer. She came into my room a few moments later, her face very grave. I felt the sadness and worry she carried, and I looked at her in alarm.

“Tas, could you come out here, please? There’s… someone to see you.” 

I followed her out into the living room. A man I didn’t recognize stood there. He was wearing a rumpled suit, and his shirt collar was unbuttoned. He was unshaven and obviously in need of sleep and shower.

From habit I zeroed in on his mind and caught my breath when I realized who he was.

He looked at me with weary eyes. “Hello, Tasmyn.” He held out his hand. “I’m Nick Massler.”

I took his hand automatically, even as my resentment mounted. This was the man who put his wife into a mental hospital, ignored his young daughter and then sentenced her to the same life as her mother. I had never met him, but I’d disliked him for a long time.

“Please, sit down,” my mother said, ushering Mr. Massler to the sofa. I perched on the edge of the chair, keeping an uneasy distance.

“I understand you don’t know me, and I can see that you don’t think much of me, Tasmyn. That’s fine. I’m not here to give explanations or excuses for whatever you’ve heard about me and my family.”

“Then why are you here?” I asked rudely. The picture frames began to tremble on the wall, and I had to concentrate on pushing down my anger at this man.

“Tasmyn!” My mother gasped.

Nick Massler waved off her protest. “No, that’s okay. She has the right to her own opinion. God knows I don’t particularly like myself. And after what my daughter did to her… well, I never did try to make amends there.”

“No, you just sent her away to a mental hospital,” I said. “Just like her mom. Far away, where you didn’t even have to think of her.” I knew I was being unfair, but I couldn’t get the image of Nell out of my head.

“I’m not here to argue with you.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope. “You’ve heard what happened with Nell last night. Sam Lawrence said he’d told you.”

I nodded and winced as I saw Nell through her father’s thoughts, lying unnaturally still, hooked up to machines, white gauze on her neck and arms.

“We found this next to her, on the floor. It was addressed to you.” He hesitated only a beat before he handed me the envelope. I took it automatically but looked at him questioningly.

“Yes, I read it,” Mr. Massler replied. “The doctors did, too. They told me it was evidence of her psychosis. But I thought—” His voice faltered just a little. “I thought it was the least I could do for Nell, to make sure you got it.”

“Thank you.” Turning the envelope over in my hands, I glanced up. “How is she? Any better?”

He shook his head. “No. I went up there as soon as they called me, stayed up all night, hoping… but no. There’s brain activity, and she’s breathing, but no other responses. The doctors seem to think it could be permanent.”

I didn’t know what to say, and we all were still, lost in individual thoughts. 

Nick Massler stood abruptly. “I’ve got to get home. I hope the letter helps you. I hope that you don’t have any more trouble.”

“Mr. Massler!” I stopped him before he stepped out the door. “Could I visit Nell sometime? Please? Will you tell me where she is?”

I could feel his surprise. He dug into a pocket and pulled out a small white card. 

“That’s the name and address of the hospital. You can call and see if her doctor will allow visitors. For the time being, it’s family only—and that means me. But I’ll tell the doctor you’re to be allowed in whenever he thinks it’s safe.” He opened his mouth as though to say more, then thought better of it and left, closing the door quietly behind him.

I didn’t hear from Michael. The afternoon passed slowly, and I forced myself to step away from the computer. After all, I reasoned, he was probably in class. He might not check email until that night. And even if he did read my message—here I gulped and steeled myself—he might not reply. Not right away. Or not at all.

It was possible. I was fairly sure that Michael had heard about Rafe and me. How could he ever forgive me for that? For betraying him that way, not to mention the hundreds of other ways I’d purposely or incidentally hurt him… he would be completely justified in never speaking to me again.

The letter from Nell sat on my dresser, unopened. My mother offered to sit with me while I read it, but I wasn’t ready yet. Those feelings were still too raw. I thought about how close I had come to following her path. When I pictured Amber lying beneath that tree yesterday… I shuddered. 

Amber’s mother had called to let me know that they were all home from the hospital and that Amber was doing very well. She wouldn’t return to school until next week, but I was welcome to come by and visit. I didn’t tell Mrs. Cole anything about my adventures of the day before, but I did ask her to pass on my love to Amber and promised to be over soon.

I could hardly eat my dinner that night. I sat with my cell phone in my lap and tried to participate in the conversation with my parents. 

“Tas, you’re so jumpy. What’s going on?” I couldn’t blame my dad for his suspicions. As I had written to Michael, I knew it would take time to re-establish trust with my parents.

“I emailed Michael this afternoon,” I confessed. “And I haven’t heard from him. So I’m just a little nervous.” 

The empathetic vibes from both my parents were nearly my undoing. “Oh, sweetie, he’ll call,” my mother assured me. “Don’t worry.” 

I tried to smile in agreement, but I wasn’t so sure.

When I climbed into bed that night, I had my phone on my nightstand and Nell’s letter in my hand.

I opened the envelope slowly and pulled out a single sheet of paper. It was handwritten, and I had trouble making out some of the words. There were blots on the edge, and I tried not to think what they might be.

Dear Tasmyn,

I could begin this with the very trite ‘If you’re reading this letter, it means that I’m gone…’ but that seems silly, doesn’t it? If what I’m about to try works, the odds are that I won’t survive it. 

And I’m all right with that. I know you’ll probably feel horribly guilty for a long time, but please don’t. I think I’ m going to be at peace, and that is something I haven’t known for a very long time. 

If I can go out by doing something for you, perhaps even saving your life, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?