Larkin's Letters (4 page)

That night. That hot, oppressive August night. Even though he had already known, that was the night Larkin had told him she had leukemia.

Letter #5 - August 2, 2011

My perfect friend,

You came to see me last night. I had poured myself a cup of coffee, grabbed that day’s edition of The Philadelphia Daily News, and made my way onto the balcony of my fourth-floor hotel room, which has become my home in the past month. Most people read the newspaper in the morning, but, as you know, I always read it before I go to bed. I am certainly not a morning person, and I never have time to just sit and read in the mornings before I leave for work. Well, when I worked. I always try to capture every last little bit of sleep I can before getting out of bed. Like always, I went straight for the Sports section followed, of course, by the Entertainment section. I always try to keep up-to-date with what is going on in your corner of the world, if not just to see who you might be dating this week. I know, I know. I can be hard on you.

As I sat on the balcony, I took notice of the beautiful view that was laid out before me. My
balcony is just high enough to reach above the treetops, giving me a picturesque view of the Delaware River. Last night was especially breathtaking. It was as if I was looking at a painting. The cloudless sky gave way to the full moon, and the stars blanketed the normally muddy brown-colored river, turning it into a radiant white glow.  I could see the lights emanating off the Camden skyline just across the river. I would glance up from the newspaper every so often, allowing the view to infuse into my memory. There was nothing more perfect, more beautiful, than this masterpiece laid out before me.

Suddenly, a knock at the door had startled me, and I figured it was Chris or maybe my mother. Never in a million years did I expect to see you. I haven’t seen you in so long, and just one glimpse of your perfect face made my heart skip a beat. It was at that moment that I realized I had been proven wrong. There actually was something more perfect, more beautiful than the masterpiece I had just left behind on that balcony moments ago.

When you looked at me, I felt as if you were reading my mind. I was so happy to see you, and I couldn’t wait to wrap my arms around you. I remember, as I tried to release myself from our embrace, I felt you squeeze me tighter. I, of course, reciprocated, trying to dissolve the seven months’ time in which I hadn’t been able to disappear into your arms. You didn’t say anything, and this worried me. You just held onto me for a long while. I felt your head bury into my shoulder, and I suddenly realized you were crying. I have never seen you cry before, Ryan.

I asked you to tell me what was wrong, and you begged me to talk to you. Talk to you? I didn’t know what to think about first, but then I realized you knew. Damn it, you knew. I then realized it had to have been your mom who told you. How else would you know?

I am so sorry I didn’t tell you, Ryan. The sorrow in your eyes broke my heart. I should have told you. You should have heard it from me. I beg your forgiveness. I was scared. I didn’t want to be a burden to you. I could tell you were angry with me. Two months was too long to wait.

I watched you as you stood up and walked outside to the balcony. I waited a few minutes to see if you would come back inside. When I realized you weren’t, I reluctantly walked outside and sat down next to you. Neither of us said anything for the longest time. In the distance, I could see the red lights glowing from the boats that were taking an evening cruise on the river. It made me think of the boat rides we would take together back in Somers Point.

I tried to change the subject by talking about memories of us fishing, but you know me so well, Ryan. You brushed my conversation aside. You didn’t want to talk about fishing. Of course, you didn’t. I could tell you were still angry. I could feel the coldness coming from your beautiful brown eyes, unlike the usual warmth I feel when you look at me.

I am so sorry, Ryan. I was going to tell you. I was just trying to find the right time. Please don’t be mad at me. I really needed my best friend last night, and you were there. You saw me cry. You knew how sorry I was. I felt you put your arm around my waist, and I gently let my head fall onto your shoulder. You said to me, “Lark, I’m not mad. How can I be mad?” And you wiped a tear away from my cheek.

As I began to cry harder, you picked me up and carried me back inside to the recliner. You sat down and held me in your lap as I buried my head into your chest. You didn’t say a word. You just let me cry for as long as I needed as we rocked back and forth in the recliner. I’ll never forget the next thing you whispered to me. You promised me you will be here for me whenever I need you, and that you are never going to leave me alone....

The memory of that night diverted his attention away from the letter. That night was one of the worst moments of Ryan’s life. He remembered it as clear as day. How could he not? He placed the letter down on his lap. He remembered. He remembered holding her as they sat on the recliner, and he had started to doze off when he had felt Larkin stir. He was still holding her while she had fallen asleep, but she had gotten cold and was shivering, so he carried her to her bed so she could get warm.
God, the memory was so vivid.
It was as if he could still feel her shivering in his arms. He had noticed she fell asleep again as he carried her to her bedroom. He gently laid her down on her bed and took her sandals and her sweatshirt off. As he tucked her in, he knelt down beside her and kissed her forehead. He stared at her for a long time while stroking her hair. She had looked so peaceful. He couldn’t believe what was happening. It was unimaginable. He hadn’t wanted to wake her, so he quietly made his way to her bedroom door. As he began to slowly close the door, he had heard her call for him.

“Ryan?”

He pushed the door open. “Yeah?”

“Will you stay with me? Please?”

He didn’t even need to think twice about it. “Of course I will.” He slipped his shoes off and climbed in next to her. She rolled over to face him, and he wrapped her up in his arms. She felt so small, smaller than he had remembered. He had felt her heart pounding, and he had hoped the day would never come when he could no longer feel her heartbeat.

Ryan continued to finish the letter.

I woke up in your arms this morning. You held me all night. You are so good to me. I have to admit I feel relieved that you now know. A weight has been lifted off my shoulders, and having you in my life, in my corner, I feel like I can do anything.

We had a bad day today, Ryan. It started out pretty great actually. You got out of the shower, and you brought me coffee as I sat out on the balcony. It was a cloudy morning and not as oppressive as yesterday. I could feel your eyes studying me during the pauses in our many different conversations. I knew you knew I had been crying while you were in the shower. I never try to cry in front of you, but I can feel myself weakening and weakening by the minute. I am definitely not as strong as I used to be. You reached over the small round table that sat between our patio chairs and grabbed my hand, and you said nothing. Ryan, you always say it best when you say nothing at all. Just the way you held my hand was enough to let me know you were ready to listen whenever I was ready to talk.

I am so angry, Ryan. You left. You just got up and left. I know I pushed you away. It’s my fault, I know, but if you only knew how much I need you. You pressed and pressed me to talk to you about what I was thinking. You pressed me to tell you about my plan. I tried to explain to you that I couldn’t follow the plan. You didn’t want to hear it when I told you I couldn’t do the chemotherapy because of not having any insurance and just like I knew you would, you offered to pay for it. I tried to tell you that I can’t accept your money, Ryan. I am not a charity case. I will not take advantage of you. This is not your problem.

But you still pressed and pressed me. You begged me to let you help. You told me it was your problem too, whether I liked it or not. I could tell I had hurt you when I accused you of thinking of me as a charity case. You asked me what I would do if the situation was reversed, and you’re right, Ryan. You are so right. I would do anything for you, but I just can’t seem to take your money. You pleaded with me. You told me you had more money than you knew what to do with, and now you know. You want to help me, but I can’t. I can’t take it. I know you don’t care about it, but I will never be able to pay you back. I know you’re angry with me for pushing you away.

The last words you said to me today before you left are haunting me. I can’t even sleep. I told you that taking your money wasn’t an option for me, and you told me that letting me die wasn’t an option for you. That’s the last thing you said before you left. You couldn’t even look at me as you grabbed your bag and packed up your things. You let the door close behind you without as much as a glance back at me. Where did you go, Ryan?

Ryan placed the book, Larkin’s manuscript, and his watch back into the nightstand and slammed the drawer shut. He had a hard time catching his breath. Maybe he wasn’t ready. Or maybe he just didn’t want to be ready. Why couldn’t she be here to read to him? She always read to him when he was in a bad place. He wanted so badly to hear her voice. He was having a hard time admitting that was not going to happen. He didn’t know what to do. He was so lost, and he had no idea how to get to where he needed to go, wherever
that
was. Larkin would know. She would know what to do to help him. She was the light he needed to guide him to the place where he could find peace again. These thoughts were attacking his mind. It was as if bombs were igniting in his brain, and he was trying to find shelter, but he couldn’t run fast enough. The shelter he was seeking was Larkin, but she wasn’t there.

“Not yet, Larkin. I’m not ready yet,” he quietly said to himself as the tears began to form behind his eyes. “Don’t rush me.”

He sat on the edge of the bed looking around the room. He wasn’t quite sure what it was he was looking for, but he was grasping for anything that would help him get through this moment. The memories of that night in the last letter were exploding in his mind. He remembered staring into her eyes hoping she would see the desperation in his, but she had broken that stare by looking down and wouldn’t look at him after that. He was so angry with her. How could she be so selfish? He knew there was nothing more he could say to her. He had reluctantly let go of her hands, grabbed his bag, and left without a word. He had never felt so helpless, even betrayed. He felt by her not letting him help her, she was betraying their friendship. He crouched down to the hallway floor just outside her door to catch his breath, and then he eventually made his way down to the hotel lobby. He had felt so disoriented. He didn’t know where to go from there. He went outside and went for a walk, and he had no idea where he was going, but he didn’t care at that point. He just needed to clear his head. He was losing his best friend, and he had felt so alone.

He remembered walking about a half mile before he found his way to a park bench just overlooking the Delaware River. As he rested and tried to gather his thoughts, his attention would wander from the boats and Jet Skiers buzzing by down the river to young kids playing catch with their fathers, to mothers pushing their toddlers on a nearby swing set, to several couples laughing and smiling as they walked hand-in-hand down the gravel pathway outlining the riverbanks. As he watched life happen around him, he realized this was what life was supposed to be all about. It was about being with people you love and doing everything you can to make them happy. But he had been away. Far away from the people that he had loved. He wanted Larkin to experience all these things that were happening around him. But how could she do that all alone? He had felt guilty about leaving her there without saying a word. He had done the exact opposite of what he told her he was going to do. He had told her he would never leave her alone, and that’s exactly what he did.

Ryan walked back to the hotel to see Larkin again. He was going to make one last effort to help her, but if she still refused, he would do whatever it was she wanted him to do. He had knocked on her door several times, but she never came to open it. He had made several attempts before he realized she was not coming. He deserved it, he thought. He had left her alone. She had every reason to not come to that door. He felt his heart drop into his stomach, and he had never felt more alone than right at that moment. Walking away from that hotel room door was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

He had gotten himself a room to stay in before he headed back to South Africa the next morning. He was exhausted from all the traveling the past two days, but his mind and heart were so full of anguish, he couldn’t help but toss and turn. He couldn’t sleep, and the only person who could help him was Larkin. He had needed her, more than she could ever know. Maybe if she knew, maybe if she understood how much he needed her then she would reconsider. She was always there for him, so why would this time be any different? He looked at the time. It was 12:15 a.m. He didn’t care that it was late. He quickly got dressed and walked to her room. He banged on the door so loudly, he could hear people yelling at him to knock it off from inside their rooms across the hall. But he didn’t care.

“
Larkin!
” he shouted. “Open the door.” He kept banging the door. “Larkin, I am not leaving until you open the door!” He kept banging until he saw the light turn on underneath the doorway, giving him an immediate sense of relief.

The door opened.