ACT IV: Chapter Twelve - Sweater Weather (May, 2008)

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Author's Note: NSFW Warning

It had been a week since I gave Alex the completed version of my manuscript--which I titled The Final Blade--and still there was no word from her about it. With every day that passed my initial excitement dwindled further into the anxiety I had sworn I wouldn't feel, making it increasingly difficult to not burst out and ask her about it.

Today was another one of those days where Alex shut herself in her room to read, only leaving to grab a snack--the sheaf of papers always in her grip while she made a sandwich one handed, as if she were mocking me--and I was stuck in the living room doing nothing. Having to wait for her to come out and tell me that she was finally finished every day was driving me insane, and after four hours of it I decided that I had to leave the house finally.

The good thing about taking a break from waiting on Alex every minute of the day was that it gave me a chance to trek over to the graveyard so I could visit Lilah and Tanya. I had gone over there with Bobby once more in the time that I was denned up writing, but I found that I enjoyed going by myself a lot more. I never felt like I was on a time limit or that I was being watched. I could get that personal time that I really needed to talk and connect like I wanted.

After my first trip to the graveyard, I began paying my respects to Tanya on my way up to see Lilah. Visiting Tanya was never as hard or emotional as it was with Lilah. It was always safe and comfortable though. Whenever I would talk to Tanya, I felt like a piece of my confidence came back to me and I always walked away feeling more certain about the value of myself--just as Tanya had always given me in life.

In every sense of the word, Tanya was the mother I had always wanted and needed. I couldn't care less if my biological mother was dead or alive--in fact I didn't even know if my mother was dead or alive--but losing Tanya had shook me to the core. With her gone, it was as if I had lost my moral compass in life.

I sat and talked to Tanya, telling her about the book and my journey over the past few weeks. I rambled on about nonsense and most importantly let her know that the renovations were going well. I was sure she would have been happy to see all the love and effort that went into restoring her home but more importantly, how it had brought together the old gang again.

After a few minutes catching up with my aunt, I touched her grave, told her goodbye, and began my trek up the grassy hill to where Lilah laid--my calves protesting like they always did from the steep angle of the trail.

The sun was peeking through the dark rain clouds that had been lingering all afternoon to shine a light across Lilah's headstone and I knew in my heart that it wasn't a coincidence. She was here with me today, just waiting for me to show up. I ran my hand across the sun warmed part of the marble stone and smiled.

"I know this visit is a little late but I've been working hard this week. See I...I finished it finally," I said and hunkered down next to Lilah's grave. "I stopped worrying about beating the loopholes and pleasing the fans. I just wrote what I thought a good story should look like. Something interesting that kept me entertained. And everything flowed out of me after that."

I laughed once and shook my head before going quiet for a moment.

"I really think you'll like it. Maybe I can bring it up and read it to you sometime." I smiled at Lilah's tombstone and touched the lily flower etched at the bottom. "What do you think?"

A cool spring breeze swept over my bare ankles and rose to my face. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the embrace of nature. It was crazy but sometimes I felt as if Lilah talked back to me like this. With a warm sunspot or a comforting breeze. Those were her little ways of saying 'I'm here. I'm listening.'

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