November, 1997
Dear Marcia,
I hope this letter finds you well.
Time flies by, doesn't it? Hopefully it has not been so fast that hearing from me again will bring you feelings of resentment, and instead, it is now indifference to another person who went through your life, so I will not have the power to bring you pain that, believe it or not, I did not intend to make you feel. Therefore, I repeat, I hope this letter finds you well.
I have heard a lot from you about the book you are about to release regarding the O.J. Simpson case. I well remember reading and watching excerpts from that case when I had just met you. All that you must have suffered when all eyes were on you. It was a very dark phase of your life from which you struggled to emerge, but finally, you did the Marcia Clark thing: you took advantage of it, reinvented yourself and rose from the ashes. You may not have won the case, but your determination has inspired millions of people, the right people. And you will do so even more through your upcoming book.
You inspire me every day, for I had the privilege of observing how some days, you would sit outside smoking as your way to relax, and that way, find yourself in a better state to spend time with the kids. Despite wanting to go to sleep, you would help Travis with his homework or watch Kyle's favorite cartoon with him. There wasn't a single night that you went to bed without asking me how my day was, and even though I asked you the same, there were many things you held back... still, it was an honor to feel like everything was getting better for you when I laid on your chest. You got up every day, to do your best in both your personal and work worlds.
Maybe I never formally said it and maybe I'm being reckless in mentioning it, but I'm sorry. I really am sorry. There isn't a single day that goes by that I don't imagine what would've been, could've been and should've been if only such a simple sentence had come out of my mouth at the appropriate time. And the fact that you are reading this, I appreciate it, because it is more than I deserve. I will not justify myself anymore, and I will not justify others, for I have been doing so for a lifetime. So, once again, I am sorry.
I am at a point in my life where I look back, and I realize that I do not recognize myself. Not in a bad way at all! But in that sense of having grown so much personally, and being able to say that I learned... maybe the hard way, but I did. I try to always have a goal in mind, not just a path without direction.
I contacted Phyllis Bowery in May, and about six weeks later I met my half-sister. Now, the three of us are a little family. And if you count our cat named Binx (yes, like the movie "Hocus Pocus") then there are four of us.
I have an evening job that I really enjoy, most of my income is directed to a start-up business to which I devote most of my day. Phyllis insisted on paying for it, but I wouldn't let her. In the end, she was kind enough to open the doors of her home to me, so the pains of paying rent or food are a thing of the past. Not to mention, as much as I appreciate her good intentions, this is something I wanted to do on my own.
I was able to realize that, going to college was perfect, but it was also perfect to not go. It's okay to want to step outside the norms a little bit and do it YOUR way. And I've found my calling. Soon enough, this business will become my first income and later on, it will become my only income, I will be able to have employees who will make my dream a precious unit and most importantly, I will look at my current self who is writing this letter the same way I am looking at my self who worked in a pharmacy. I can say with all certainty that the process brings me enormous joy.
But most important of all... how are you? I hope to hear from you very soon.
Love, (Y/N).
This letter, which I wrote in August, was sent but never answered.
I didn't let my curiosity get the better of me, but it would be a vile lie to say that maybe once a day, I wondered what happened to that letter.
Maybe Marcia threw it away without even opening it, or maybe she read it and then came to the conclusion that she didn't want me back in her life, or maybe she's been thinking all this time about what to say in response.
In the beginning, I checked the mailbox every day.
Phyllis could tell, oh she knew all too well what happened between Marcia and me.
My hopeful expression turning into one of disappointment was a daily sight for her to see every time I returned home.
Eventually, I stopped checking. Marcia wasn't going to answer.
Stefan, my lifelong best friend, always asked me if I was really okay with maybe this was the final sign that this was the end. I would tell him yes, but we both knew I was lying, yet he wouldn't go any deeper into it.
But one day, I left the house as usual, having had breakfast wraps that I made for myself and left in the pan for Phyllis and my sister Simone to eat as soon as they woke up.
I was so annoyed to find unwanted mail under the door of my establishment. Most of it was advertising, nevertheless it all came crashing down inside me when I noticed that name on an envelope.
That envelope was hidden inside so many flyers, what would have happened if I had just thrown the pile of papers away as usual? The thing is, inside every individual there is a little gut feeling that may seem very small, until you come across the why. Why did I feel this time that I had to go through them one by one?
Because otherwise none of this would have happened during the last week of November.
Marcia Clark wanted to settle a book signing at my bookstore.
She was a few feet away from me, sitting in a chair with a microphone in hand, and a sizeable audience in front of her, listening intently.
As I introduced her to the public, I only wished I had done her the proper honor. I could feel her gaze on me at all times, and I made a superhuman effort not to succumb as the weakling that only she knew how to make me.
Her smile and the applause when I concluded were confirmation that I had done a good job.
Once she had finished reading an excerpt from her book and answering a few questions, I waited for everyone to leave with their signed copy, totally stunned with admiration for the brown-haired woman.
I grabbed my copy from under the counter, which I reserved just for myself before they ran out, which happened in a matter of minutes. Subsequently, I made my way to her with slow steps.
"I know the event is over, but could you give your autograph to your biggest fan, Miss Clark?" What a way to greet the woman you disappointed.
She smiled, just as she did after my introduction earlier, and nodded.
For my darling, (Y/N). Yours, Marcia.
I was so broken by the way she referred to me.
All I wanted was her forgiveness, nothing more. After that, I would be more than happy to watch her from afar.
It was of great impact that she, perhaps, wanted to have a clear start with me.
My heart was overflowing with so much joy at that possibility, for it was more than I could ever want!
"I got your letter," was the first thing she said, to my noticeable effort not to break down in tears. "You and I have changed so much, we have formed our empire. I confess that, in every step I took to become this, from time to time I would entertain the possibility of your accompanying me."
"So did I," I agreed. "I thought about accompanying you and I thought about you accompanying me in... this." I looked around at what was becoming my bookstore. It had dim lighting suitable for reading, various sections containing their respective category and the decor was better than I had planned. "It was enough for me to see that you were being successful, even if I couldn't be a part of it."
"I want you to be a part of it," she admitted. "I was hurt, and I felt betrayed, and as the months passed, I realized that the pain of not forgiving you was greater than the pain of what you did to me." She got up from her seat, and walked towards me. It wasn't because of the height difference, but because of that characteristic countenance of hers, that I felt so small in comparison to her. Just like the first time I saw the older woman, I corroborated multiple times that it could be felt in a good way, in the best way. "Now, rather than forgive you, I want us to try again."
She took her suitcase. It was the same one she used every time she went to work. That object had the good fortune to accompany her on her journey and even if it were to break down to the point of being useless, Marcia would never get rid of it.
From there she took out her agenda, and showed me the first page.
Those were the Polaroids we took! Marcia had kept them!
The first one was taken by me, only of Marcia with both boys cuddled up to her on the couch. All three were smiling at the camera in their sleepwear. It was a Friday night where we rented a movie, bought fast food and made popcorn.
The second one was mine with Marcia, we were both lying on the grass. The kids were with their dad, and it was her idea to rent and ride bikes to a park, lay out a blanket and have lunch there. She then took out the camera, flipped it over, and although it didn't come out perfect, for us it was.
And the last one was of all of us, the one we asked to be taken in Go Karts.
Those were a few of the many memories that were in the most treasured part of my heart.
"I love you, Marcia Clark."
With those words, she kissed me.
Finally. Finally that constant desperation to feel her lips again ceased, as our bodies came together to form one as only soul mates could.
And from that day on, I felt whole again, because I achieved everything that not so long ago, was only something I had merely imagined from the counter of that pharmacy.
—
Hiii! Oh wow, I have finished my fourth work.
Again, thanking you for every form of support you have given me. I appreciate it with all my being. THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 🥹❤️
I'll be honest, I don't have any more stories in mind right now, and I'm determined to take a hiatus to focus on other things. But I'll see you again soon.
So, I bid you farewell, hoping this story has been a very nice little escape for each one of you. 💗