“Mom,” I began, but she silenced me immediately.
“Honey,” she said, her breathing labored, “reach into the top drawer for me and pull out the white box.”
I did as I was told and started to pass it to her, but her thin, frail hand rose to stop me.
“No, Matty, that’s for you. Open it.” She tried to sit up further in the bed but began wheezing and I leaned in to place another pillow behind her head so she could be as comfortable as possible.
I took the top off of the box and inside was a small charm, half of a gold heart.
She squeezed my hand with the little strength she had left, her tired and lifeless eyes meeting my tear-filled ones. “You’re my first-born, Matty. You and I both know that you’ve always had a special place in my heart, a place that’s tucked away, that no one can ever reach. I bought this for you because I want you to remember that. I don’t want you to be tainted and bitter after I’m gone. I don’t want you to be fearful. I want you to be hopeful. I want you to live your life, and someday, even though I won’t be around to see it, you’re going to find a girl who will love you and who you’ll love right back, because you have so much good in you, so much love to give, Matty. Someday you’ll find the other half of your heart.”
A tear slid down my cheek as I pressed her cold hand to my face. “Mom.”
I couldn’t look up at her because I was crying and I wanted to be strong for her, so I moved her hand and held it to my chest, grasping the charm tightly.
“Now,” she whispered, “I don’t expect you to put it on a necklace, I know boys don’t really wear necklaces, but keep it with you as a reminder of your hopeful future.” She hiccupped a breath. “I love you, Matty.”
I climbed onto the bed, snuggling as close as I could to Mom, knowing it was probably for the last time. “I love you, too, Mom.”
And I couldn’t help thinking at that moment that the other half of my heart was dying.
I roughly wipe away the tear escaping down my cheek with the back of my hand and yank the wallet from my pocket. When I open the flap and tip it over, the charm falls into the palm of my hand, the gold heart now dull from time, but the love for my mom stronger than ever.
With a balled-up fist, I bang on the door to Caleb’s room, pacing the small area in the hallway as I wait.
The door opens and I walk in without a word to find Caleb shirtless in a pair of jeans, his hair wet from a recent shower.
“What’s up, man?” he asks, as he slides a polo shirt over his head. “Hey, by the way, thanks for helping my parents out yesterday. Mom rang me this morning and she really appreciated you coming by…and you’re not even listening to a word I’m saying,” he mumbles when he sees me standing in front of the window in a daze.
I don’t hear his footsteps, only feel the hand that lands on my shoulder a minute later.
“You okay?” he asks sincerely, dragging me from the inner turmoil, my stomach a chaotic mess.
“Not really,” I reply, raking a tense hand through my hair. “Not at all.”
“Sit down. Tell me what’s going on.” He takes a firm hold of my arm and pulls me down to the sofa, waiting patiently for me to say something.
I’m not sure where to begin, my brain so muddled with rampant thoughts that there’s no way for my mouth to catch up.
As if Caleb senses my unease, he once again places a supportive hand on my shoulder. “Start from the beginning.”
I unclench my sweaty palm, holding up the charm so he can see it. “Remember this?” I ask quietly, shaking my head from side to side, still in disbelief.
“Of course. I remember the day your mom gave it to you.” He picks up the charm, wiping it on his shirt as if to shine it up for me.
I huff out a blast of air. “Fran has the same one.”
He turns his head to me, his brow narrowing. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I,” I reply, scrubbing a hand over my face. “My head is so fucked up right now I don’t know which end is up.”
He sits quietly, letting me gather my thoughts together, as if that’s even possible.
I exhale another hard breath. “Fran and I were together last night and it was fucking amazing,” I murmur, and he cocks his head to the side with a smile. “I went to her room this morning because I was planning on taking her to Long Beach for the day. We were getting ready to leave and I spotted a necklace on the ground.” I squeeze my temples with my fingers to soothe the impending headache. “She has the same one, Caleb, except hers is on a chain. She told me her mom gave it to her for her ninth birthday.”
“Seriously?” he asks, not waiting for me to reply. “That’s fucking crazy and wild all at once.”
Resting my elbows on my knees, I drop my head in my hands. “I don’t know what to make of it.”
“You don’t know what to make of it?” He lightly knocks me in the head forcing me to look at him. “I know what to make of it. It’s called fate, meant to be, and all that shit.”
I stare back at him with a pained expression, my chest sore as my heart breaks apart.
“Oh shit, man.” Caleb’s eyebrows pull together in sympathy and shock. “You’re in love with her.” And there’s no question in his tone.
I scrub a hand over my face again while rubbing the back of my neck. “Who said anything about love? That’s not possible. It’s been one fucking week.”
“Really, and who told you that? The love fairy?” He chuckles before he continues, “Dude, there’s no time limit on that shit. My parents got engaged in a month and married four months later, and look at them, they’ve been married more than thirty-five years. You see how they are with one another.” He grins. “I mean, remember Greg Riley and Jill Stevens in high school. They dated for five years before they got married, and guess what? They were married for seven years and then got divorced. I thought I had that with Allison, too, until she ripped my heart out of my chest. She just didn’t feel the same way about me. But when you find it, man, you have to grab it and hold onto it. I see the way Fran looks at you, and I’d stake money on it that she feels the same way. She’s just scared. Peyton told me she’s been through a lot of shit.”
“Yeah, she has.”
“What the hell are you doing sitting with me? Go find her and tell her how you feel.”
“I don’t know how I feel,” I tell him, and it sounds like I’m trying to convince myself more than him, I’m not sure.
“Bullshit. I think you know exactly how you feel. I think she threw you for a loop and now you don’t know which end is up. And,” he says, lifting his hands in the air to emphasize his point, “now the heart thing.”
I push myself up off the couch, stuffing the charm in my pocket. “I’ve gotta go.”
“I hope you’re going to see Fran,” he says, his lips pinched together in frustration.
“I can’t right now. I need time to think.” I head for the door but look over my shoulder. “Thanks, man. You know after twenty-five years, you’re it for me,” I attempt a joke and he laughs, even though right now I can’t laugh with him.
“Get out of here and go get your girl. At least one of us can get the girl and walk off into the sunset.”
I only wish it were that easy.