Read chapter 35 here with Cupcakemummy
Winter outside and Winter inside my heart. I read her mail late last night and shouldn’t have. I should have known it would lead to a night of tossing and turning. Somewhere around 3am I grabbed my ipod and put it on shuffle. Music, much like bread, tends to make things better.
The universe has a strange sense of amusement I think as Rebel Beat by the Goo Goo Dolls starts playing.
“We keep heading in the same direction
You become my own reflection
Is that your soul that you’re trying to protect
I always hoped that we would intersect, yeah
Give me time to cope and time to heal
Time to cry if its what you feel
Oh, life can hope, when it gets too real
I can hold you up when its hard to feel
Alive is all I wanna feel
I need to be where you are
I need to be where you are”
When I need music as distraction it ends up explaining my thoughts and feelings better than I ever could. And I call myself a writer? If you ask me real writers add lyrics to a melody. That is art.
Winter is angry at the Mateos. I knew it was coming and I know I shouldn’t feel so involved in their relationship but I can’t help it. Have I taken a second child away from them? I shake away that notion as I vowed to Mark I would stop blaming myself for shit.
Well, he ended up being one of those don’t judge a book by its cover cases. He cooked me dinner last night and we played scrabble. He lost. Horribly. In fact it’s hard to believe the man works in publishing. He even tried to put in “Italian” words. I googled. They were totally made up but it was fun. I laughed. I haven’t laughed in a while. He made chicken and some fancy salad last night. Every so often he would toss a piece lettuce to the dog. I had no idea my dog liked lettuce so much. Vegetarian dog? Is that a thing? I am enjoying getting to know mark more. All the little things you only get to know when you really look a person. I mean really look at him. He is marvellous.
Why does the good always have to come with the bad? I get life is pretty unfair but it just seems cruel. To be happy and sad at the same time. There should be a word for that. Sappy. Sad and happy = Sappy. I roll over and look at my alarm clock and its already 6am. I fill my cheeks and lungs with air and dive beneath my duvet. I would be able to pull it over my head of my vegetarian dog wasn’t asleep at my feet.
I prop up in my bed and shove a pillow behind my back and drag another closer to balance my laptop on. I flip it open and start typing the gibberish in my head.
Email: To: Winter
Subject. Ships in the night.
Forget about me for a minute, I knew you were close to the Matheo’s and my heart aches for you. I do not know why they didn’t tell you about their son. Maybe it hurt too much. You filled a void that they must have thought would be an empty hole forever.
Please don’t shut them out. I will help you. I will help you fix this. I promise. Please trust me. I know I might not deserve your trust but I am asking anyway.
I know what to do. I will tell you in due course.
I jump out of bed and grab a copy of Feathers and Fur, the first box for autographing came yesterday. I open it up and start writing on the inside of the cover page.
Mama & Papa
We never speak of Antonio. I have said sorry more so many times the word has lost its weight and value. Little fragments of my soul drowned with those boys that day. I have written a childrens book in their honour. Their light little lives deserve to live on. In these pages you with find Antonio reincarnated as a little duck. A little duck whose friendship was so strong with a kitten, that he followed the kitten into another life. A wonderful whimsical life with no hurt or sadness. A cheerful life. That same life you created for Winter. She illustrated these pictures and now knows the truth about who the book was written about. Winter brought something back into your life that left the day the little duck flew away. Please don’t let Winter fly away when she needs you most. She does not understand your silence about your son all these years. I have no place in judging your actions or motives. But I plead; please let Winter feel the warmth of your love that she has gotten to know over the years. She told me all about your history.
Please channel disgust and hurtfulness towards me. I am the one who wrote this story. Winter simply brought it to life. As she does with everyone whose path she crosses.
All my love.
I wrap the book in brown paper and tie a little red string around it to form a bow on the top. I put the Mateo’s book aside and grab another copy.
Thank you for teaching me it’s ok to let people in. Not all of them break things and leave. Some come and fix things that were broken ling before their arrival. If I never get to hug you, please know that this was all thanks to you. What you are holding in your hand right now is because of you. If you didn’t push me in the right direction and showed enthusiasm when all I felt was defeat, this would have never happened. Your name might be cold, but I assure you, your heart is the warmest I have ever had the privelage of knowing.
All my love. Always.
I turn the page around to see the inscription page I had printed for Winter as a surprise.
“Written for friends. Where ever they are. In all seasons”