Love, Lucas (24 page)

“Me too.” She smiles and then opens her mouth to say something else, but closes it. I know what she’s going to say and I beat her to it.

“I’m sorry,” I say.

“Oakley—”

“No. I’m sorry for everything. I’ve been a horrible daughter. I’ve made all of this harder on you, Mom. Lucas, Dad. I . . . I’m so sorry. I just miss Lucas so much and I took everything out on you. I didn’t understand how much you were hurting too.”

“It’s not your fault, Oakley.”

“A lot of it is. You’ve done nothing but love me. And I pushed you away. Dad, too. And everyone at home. I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot. And if anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

“You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

“I do. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when Lucas was going through everything. I wasn’t ready to lose him. I didn’t know how to talk to you about it and I know I abandoned you.” Tears fill her eyes and she blinks, letting them spill down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. And I didn’t realize how much the divorce would affect you either. I feel awful.”

“I understand, Mom. Really.”

“I love you, honey. I want you to know that. I really truly do. I don’t know what I’d do without you, and . . . I’m going to make all those lost months up to you. I’m going to fix this.”

I reach over and grab her hand. “I love you too. And we’ll fix it together.”

CHAPTER 26

I stare at the notebook again. I’ve pulled it out so many times, but for some reason, I can’t seem to get a hold of myself long enough to read the last letter. The handwriting is not Lucas’s. That means it’s the last thing he wanted to say to me before he died. And that means the letters will be over and I’ll have nothing else to look forward to reading from him. All the advice and memories will stop and I’m afraid I’ll fall back into my depression. I don’t want them to end. I don’t want it to be over.

But I want to know what he says.

The notebook sits in my hands for almost fifteen minutes. I’m still staring at it, wondering what could be in his last message for me. I take a shaky breath and open it.

Dear Oakley,

As you already know, this isn’t my handwriting. Mom’s writing it for me, since I can’t do anything on my own anymore. My time’s almost up. I can feel it. My body is shutting down, and honestly, I welcome it. I’m not afraid to die. It’s a whole new adventure I’m ready to face.

In all seriousness, I want to tell you something. Don’t ever lose hope. Even when a situation is the worst you could ever think of, hope will always pull you through. It’s been a constant companion through the last few months, and even though I know I’m not going to make it, I still have hope that I can leave some good in this world.

And about me leaving. People will grow old, move on, forget about me, but I know you won’t. You’ve been by my side, hoping, praying for me this whole time. And I want to tell you how much it has meant to me.

I look forward to our visits every day. You always lift me up and pull me back. Your happiness is contagious. Please don’t lose it. I know there are so many people whose lives you’ll touch. So many people who will meet you for one second and want to know everything about you. You have that effect on people. Your smile, your laugh. Even your ugly snort. But all kidding aside, you’re beautiful inside and out.

I know you’re going to have a hard time when I’m gone. You’ll miss me. And trust me when I say I’ll miss you too. We’ve been through so much together, it’s only natural. But don’t let you missing me stop you from doing the things you were meant to do. You’re going to be great in this world, Oakley. I can feel it. You’re the reason I’m still here. Not even kidding. Without you, I would have given up ages ago. So, don’t lose that spark. Don’t lose hope. Be true to yourself and move on with your life. Don’t carry the past along with you, but don’t forget it either. And don’t forget about me.

I love you little sis.

Love, Lucas

I’m crying so hard, I can’t even read the words on the page anymore. I try to wipe my tears away as fast as they fall, but it isn’t fast enough. I close the notebook and lie on my bed, burying my face in my pillow. I need to cry. I need to let it all out and then I can get myself under control and figure out what to do next.

Hours pass. My eyes are swollen and red. I have a headache. My pillow is soaking wet where I’ve been lying and my body is sore from sobbing. I sit up and pull my sticky hair away from my face and sniff.

Lucas is right. It’s time to move on. I need to take control of my life. Be there for Carson as he goes through physical therapy. Be there for Mom and Dad, even if I don’t agree with their decisions. I’m an adult now. I’ll be eighteen in a few weeks and it’s time to figure out what I want to do with my life.

I turn the page of the notebook and grab a pen.

CHAPTER 27

The hospital isn’t busy at all. I go to the intensive care unit and look around for the nurse who’s usually there. She sees me and waves me over. “We transferred him to another room. Don’t worry, it’s a good thing. It means the doctors think he’s stable enough and doing well enough to function without all those machines.” She walks behind the big desk and pulls out a clipboard. “He’s in room 220, on the second floor. Go right in. I’m sure he’s expecting you.”

I release the breath I’m holding and she smiles. It occurs to me that I’ve never learned her name. “Thank you,” I say. “Can I get your name? I’m sorry I haven’t asked before.”

“No worries. It’s Michelle.”

“Thank you so much, Michelle. For everything.”

“Anytime. You take care of that boy, you hear? He’s a keeper from what I’ve seen.”

“Yes. He is.”

Carson’s sitting up and eating lunch when I arrive at the hospital. A grin spreads across his face as I walk into the room. “Hey,” he says and pushes his tray away.

“Don’t stop eating because of me.”

“No, I’m just finishing up. And have you ever tasted hospital food?” He makes a face and sticks out his tongue.

I laugh. Lucas had hated it too.

“How are you feeling today?”

He moves and flinches, but acts like he’s fine. “Good.”

I frown. “For real.”

“Better.”

“You don’t have to be brave in front of me.”

He searches my face for a moment and his eyes water. He shakes his head and reaches for my hand. “You know, I’ve been pretty good at being optimistic about this whole thing. But when everyone leaves and goes home, the doubt creeps in. I can’t get rid of it. It’s like it’s torturing me until I admit that I . . . that I’m scared.”

He doesn’t look at me, just stares at our hands intertwined on the bed. “I know I’m going to be okay, but I have a long recovery. They’re sending me home soon and I start physical therapy in a few weeks to learn how to strengthen my left leg since I can’t use my right anymore.” He cringes. “Every time I move it, it’s torture right now. My doctor says it will be bad for a while. And after it heals, I’ll get something called phantom pains.” He takes a deep breath and gives me a smile. “I just have to take it one day at a time. You know?”

“I know.”

“I’ll probably never surf again. Which sucks.” His shoulders sag and he sighs. “I’ll figure it out.” He looks up at me and smiles. “How are you today? Anything exciting happening out in the world?”

I can’t help but laugh, and then I go quiet. I came here to tell him something and I need to do it before I chicken out. “I read Lucas’s last letter today.”

“From that notebook?”

“Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so. I know I will be, eventually. It’s only been a month or so since he died, but I feel like I’m going to be okay. My emotions are still all over the place. So . . . raw. All I felt after he died was grief and I didn’t know what else to feel. It grabbed onto my heart and squeezed until almost nothing was left. It almost took over my life. Until I met you.”

“Me?”

“Not the first time I met you, but as I started to get to know you. You’ve helped me be myself again. And I’m sorry you had to see my depressed and grieving self. It wasn’t pretty. I know that now. And I’m going to try to leave it behind. I don’t know why you started to like me in the first place.”

He chuckles. “First of all, I love how enthusiastic you are about the world around you. How you try new things. Jumping in the ocean to surf for the first time and never looking back, Rollerblading, even though you were certain you’d crash—biking, too. Trying to teach me the guitar, the way you take pictures of everything and hang them on your wall. Picking up a starfish, not just to pick it up, but to examine it because it’s cool. You view things in your own way and I love that about you. And the way you care about those you love and will do anything to protect them. I not only saw that during the shark attack, but what you’ve told me about your relationship with your brother is priceless. Staying with him day after day in that hospital just so he wouldn’t be lonely? You’re loyal and selfless and will do anything for people you love. And, when I break down all your walls and get you to actually talk to me, you’re real. Not some fake who’s just trying to nab a boyfriend. You’re genuine. You don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. I could keep going . . .”

I’m quiet for a second, gathering my thoughts. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

I remember Lucas’s letters. His advice in each one. Now is my chance to use it. I pull a stack of pictures out of my purse and give them to him. “Actually, before I do, I wanted you to have these.”

He takes the photographs and flips through them, moisture filling his eyes. “This is me.”

“Yes.”

All of them are pictures of Carson surfing. I wanted to capture every detail, every movement, and he had no idea I was even there. It made the pictures even better because he was just being himself. Not trying to impress anyone.

“When did you take these?”

I shrug. “When I was avoiding you I’d take walks on the beach and see you out there. I’m not a stalker, I swear.”

“These are . . .” His voice cracks. “Amazing.”

“I wanted you to have something to remember how it felt to be in the waves. Maybe you’ll get out there again someday, but for now . . .”

He grabs my hand. “Thank you. You have no idea how much these mean to me.”

“You’re welcome.” I blush and look away. I mentally prepare myself for what comes next. I look back at him. “There’s something else.”

“Okay?”

I clear my throat. “I’ve never been one to say how I feel. You’ve probably noticed that more than once—I don’t like to talk about things. Never have. But I have to tell you this.” I meet his eyes and my heart is beating so fast, it’s getting hard to breathe. “I think . . .” I stop and shake my head. “I mean, I know . . .” I stop again. How do I say this without sounding like a total moron?

“I think there may be a small chance . . . a tiny one . . . that I might be . . . actually . . .” I shake my head and smile. I’m ridiculous. “I think I’m in love with you.”

He’s staring at me and his lips part slightly.

“I had to tell you. I don’t want to regret not telling you.”

His face softens and he breaks into a grin. “I don’t think, I know,” he says. “Since you fell off that first wave and went right back in, even after you were slammed into the beach, I knew.”

I laugh. “That wasn’t one of my finest moments.”

“It was to me.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes for a second.

“You’re hurting. Can they give you any more pain medication?”

“Pretty sure I’ve used up all the morphine in the hospital.”

“They gave you morphine?”

“Yep.”

“I didn’t know they still used that stuff.”

“They do.”

“How on Earth are you talking to me right now?”

He shrugs. “I’m not really sure. You do sound a little echoey though.”

“That’s it? I’d be curled up in a ball and rocking back and forth.” I shiver. Heavy-duty medicine is not my friend. “One time I took some really strong cough syrup and when I blew my nose, cartoon characters came out.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Were they green?”

I punch him in the arm—softly, since I swear he could break any second. “No. Like Mickey Mouse and his friends. I thought I was losing my mind.”

“Uh . . . I’m pretty sure you were.”

Great. Now he thinks I’m a crazy.

He closes his eyes again.

“I really should let you rest. I’m sure you need some sleep.”

“I’m fine.”

“Right.” I stand and lean over, my lips hovering right above his. “Promise me you’ll get some sleep. I’ll be back later, okay? I need to have a chat with my mom. If I’m not back in a few hours, send help.” I smile at the look he’s giving me. “We just don’t talk, so who knows what will happen.”

“Okay. That makes more sense.”

I lean down and touch his lips lightly with mine. I pull away and push his hair out of his eyes.

“Is that it?” he asks with a chuckle.

“For now. Go to sleep.”

“You’re no fun.” His words are sort of slurred and he closes his eyes.

“I know. I’ll see you later.”

He’s already snoring.

I step out of his room and find Mom. She’s in the waiting room, just as she said she’d be. She’s really focused on some soap opera on TV when I walk up.

“Enjoying yourself?” I ask.

She almost jumps out of her seat before turning to look at me. “Oh, you scared me.” Her hand moves toward her chest and she takes a deep breath. “You’re finished already?”

“He’s tired. I told him I’d come back later.”

“Oh. Good. Sleep is good.”

“So . . . What do you want to do?”

“Why don’t we go grab some lunch in the cafeteria? Then you can come back and hang out with Carson again.”

“You really don’t have to stay here and wait for me.”

“I want to.”

I reach out a hand and help her up. I surprise both of us when I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug. She hugs me back and we stay like that for a few minutes at least. When I pull away, she’s smiling. “Thank you,” she says.