And Jessa’s boyfriend, Rob, is exactly that: a class A douchebag. I’ve never met someone so arrogant in all my life, and that is saying a lot, considering the people I hang out with. The way he treats her is what drives me insane. She deserves a lot better. But as much as I wish she was with me, I’ve got my own issues and that’s the last thing she needs in her life.
I unlock the front door and walk down the dark hallway. There’s no reason to turn on any lights, since it’ll probably be like this through the New Year. A few housemates might come back early, but usually it’s just me for the duration of the two weeks. The quiet house is a nice change from the usual chaotic bustle of guys watching sports, playing video games, non-stop partying, and a hell of a lot of shouting back and forth. However, the solitude brings back the feelings of loneliness once again, and I can’t help but be reminded that I have no family. No one to share holidays with or laugh and talk to. My life is absent of any aunts, uncles, or grandparents, who would share funny stories of me as a child.
When these thoughts hit me, I turn toward the only things that usually make me feel better. Pulling out the shoe box that sits in the bottom drawer of my dresser, I slowly open the lid, letting the smell of her perfume hit me first. I welcome the comforting feeling as it wraps around me like a safe cocoon, changing my mood immediately. It took me a couple of years after she died to read these, and there are still some that I haven’t read yet. She clearly took her time in labeling each letter and I wouldn’t dream of reading ahead. Her neat cursive handwriting reads ‘Christmas Senior Year’ across the discolored envelope. After eight years, the once crisp white woven envelopes have become tarnished from age.
I carefully open the flap, trying not to tear it. Knowing it was her way of communicating with me long after she left and thinking about the emotions she must’ve felt at those moments is overwhelming. A slow tear falls down my cheek when I picture her frail body in that hospital bed downstairs in our living room, carefully planning out each letter in chronological order.
Grant,
Merry Christmas , sweetheart! I hope you and your dad had a great holiday with maybe the Carsens or the Billings. I imagine you’re getting ready to graduate soon. My hope is that you found that certain someone during your college years and are madly in love. If not, don’t stop looking, she’s out there somewhere. The fine young man that I know you have become is deserving of someone that will love everything about you, faults and all. Not that I think you have any ;). If you have her, hold on tight, honey, and never let her go. (For more advice on relationships, read my letter labeled LOVE).
Always remember I love you! I never knew a love could fill my heart this much, until the day you were born. Have a Merry Christmas and an even happier New Year. You’ll soon become a graduate with a college degree in what you have a passion for. If I know your father, he made sure of it.
Talk to you again when you graduate , dear. Unless, of course, you still have some letters you haven’t had a reason to read yet!!
Love,
Mom
XOXO
I re-fold the letter and carefully put it back in the envelope before gently placing it back in the shoebox. A pain reaches my heart when I realize I only have five letters left, one of which might never get opened. I quickly put the box back in the dresser drawer, trying to push them from my mind. Every letter makes it harder not to rip them all open. When I opened that first letter eight years ago, anger raged through my veins from her leaving me. But over time, I came to appreciate them. Reading the words of encouragement and advice from my mom now puts a smile on my face as I hear her voice in my head, speaking them directly to me.
I strip my clothes off, tossing them in my hamper, and then hop into the shower. After the cascade of hot water travels down my body, I put on a pair of flannel pajama pants and crawl under my sheets. As my eyelids begin to close, the only thought that crosses my mind is how I wish Jessa was lying right next to me.
Jessa
I shut the door after waving goodbye to Grant and a rush of unexpected sadness smacks me. Ever since Sadie persuaded me to move out of the dorms and into Brady’s house with them, I’ve seen Grant every day. Although his jeans and university sweatshirt apparel isn’t normally my preference anymore, I can’t help but notice the way his shirt usually tightens around his biceps. And I really couldn’t help but notice the way his shirt would rise up when he was painting, exposing a six pack that I assume he works for on a daily basis. I also haven’t missed the way his honey-colored hair sticks up in different directions every time he runs his fingers through it when he seems tired or annoyed. It’s only been two short weeks since I first met Grant, but I’m not blind to our connection with each other. I keep reminding myself though that guys like him don’t go for girls like me. Not to mention, I have Rob.
Rob treats me well, better than anyone else ever has. I might not like the way he checks out other girls when they walk by, or the way he usually walks through doors in front of me, but he’s nicer than Jason and we are definitely attracted to one another.
“What are you doing?” Sam asks. Now here’s the girl for Grant. My sister’s long chestnut hair is curled in little corkscrews with a few strands pinned back, while the rest flows down her back. The skirt she’s wearing, which looks like she ironed it this morning, is paired with a cute matching sweater. She and Grant would make the most adorable little preppy babies together.
“Nothing…why?” I ask her.
“You’ve been leaning against that front door for the past five minutes,” she laughs, and I quickly remove my hand that still rests on the doorknob.
“Just thinking,” I answer, starting to walk back into the room.
“Not about Rob,” she states and raises her eyebrows in question.
Although she’s mostly correct, I decide to take the defensive, “Shut the fuck up, Sam.” I walk into the family room, ignoring her.
“It’s okay, Jessa. I know you like him,” she calls out to me, but I continue my way through the family room and into the kitchen. I grab a beer out of the fridge and chug half of it before sitting down at the table. I know I shouldn’t be so mean to Sam; she’s my sister and knows me better than anyone. Not to mention, she stood by my side during that horrible time. She’s knows the depression and the hurt I suffered after that asshole destroyed my life. I’ll never forget the night she was my guardian angel. Without her…who knows where I’d be. A hospital, a prison, or not on this earth at all.
Most of all, I know she’s right. I do like Grant, but to what degree, I have no idea. I’m not about to blow what I have with Rob, only to find out that Grant has no interest. I chuckle to myself, thinking about him bringing me to one of those Greek formals.
Two days later, I drop my parents and sister off at the airport. The sadness between us is evident with the quiet car ride. My parents didn’t like it when I decided to transfer schools my senior year, taking me a thousand miles away from them. But they understood that it was the right decision for me. I apologized to Sam that evening, and like all the other times, she forgave me. Stopping at the curb, I get out to hug them all goodbye while tears fall down each of our faces.
“I’ll miss you, sweetheart,” my mom cries into my shoulder, hugging me tight.
“I’ll miss you, too. Call me when you get home,” I instruct them and she nods her head.
“Only one semester left. Stay focused, no distractions,” my dad says before wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me into a big bear hug. “By the way, tell Rob we’re sorry we missed him,” he whispers in my ear and when he steps back, he winks at me.