So Close (a James Hetfield story)

Chapter 46

"I saw that."

I stopped mid chew. "How could you, you weren't even looking?"

Karmically, I choked on some cookie crumbs. My mom turned around with a serene smile and shoved a glass of water into my hand. I took it gratefully and downed half of it.

"Moms know all, remember?" She arched an eyebrow then. "Just like I knew you were in love with James all those years ago. Just like I knew he was always in love with you." She ignored my exaggerated look of skepticism, "And just like I knew you'd find your way back to each other."

"You did?"

She nodded confidently. "You two have too much history and too much love for each other to think that this wasn't inevitable." She shrugged then. "You've always had a blind spot when it comes to James. You are so smart in most things, but so dumb when it comes to him."

"Ouch!" I protested loudly. "Jeez mom, don't sugarcoat it or anything."

"Oh, I won't." She smirked at my outrage, even as she ran her hand down my cheek lovingly. "I'm not singling you out though, he's just as dumb. But then, we usually are when it comes to falling in love." Her eyes softened then as she looked at me. "I don't know what caused you to part ways, but seeing my girl smiling with her whole heart again...I'm so grateful."

She pulled me in for a hug and I held on tight, feeling the healing powers of her hug soothe away more of the sadness and grief that had hung over me for so long. 

I felt a little sob at the back of my throat that caused my mom to pull back and look me over worriedly. "What is it sweetheart?"

I shook my head, trying to stop the tears that were already spilling down my cheeks. "I'm happy mom," I whispered, as if the universe would overhear and take it all away again.

Her eyes started to tear up too, so we hugged and cried, and then we laughed at each other as we hugged and cried. Eventually we pulled ourselves together and finished getting the food ready.

I assumed James and my dad were still bonding over the bottle of scotch, so I headed upstairs to use the bathroom. Walking into my old room, a wave of surreal nostalgia washed over me. Save for a stack of boxes my parents seemed to be storing there, my room had remained unchanged since I'd moved out eleven years earlier when I'd headed to Berkeley to go to school. The pictures of Jamie and I had been removed—I assumed by my mom after we'd split—but posters of bands still dotted the walls and my first acoustic guitar rested untouched in a corner. I sat on the bed and then laid back, staring up at the same eggshell white ceiling that I'd spent hours agonizing over my feelings for James. Now here I was back again in the same spot, same boy.      

"This brings back memories," came Jamie's voice from the doorway.

I sat up and watched him make his way slowly into the room; I could see he was having the same surreal reaction as me as his eyes took it all in. 

His face tightened then as he noticed all the missing photos of us that once scattered across the bulletin board hung above my desk. "Did you burn them all?" he half joked.

"I thought about it," I admitted, smiling ruefully as I moved over so he could sit beside me. "I could never bring myself to do it though. I kept the photos, the things you gave me, the letters you wrote me...all of it. I guess somehow I knew...deep down...I always knew...you and I were never going to be finished."

His eyes darkened then as he stared at me, and then he looked away. "Do...do you have any idea"—his voice was low and hoarse—"any idea, what it means to me to hear you say that? To know you loved me that much, despite everything telling you not to."