Page 47 of Embers of You (Amity #1)

Jameson

After sleeping for so long I question what day it is when I finally wake up.

I panic about needing to take care of the animals and if I missed Ma’s appointment.

But when I realize it’s dark out and I just slept the day away I calm down a bit.

Though, I hate that my schedule is about to be messed up.

I get dressed to go out to do all the chores I neglected all day.

I’m about to walk out my bedroom door when I see the envelope lying on the bed that I almost forgot about. I debate with myself for a moment before picking it up and putting it in my back pocket. I don’t know if I’m going to read it now, or ever, but at least I’ll have it with me.

Duke doesn’t follow me out, and I don’t blame him, it’s late after all, but the other animals are hungry and I’m sure the horses aren’t too happy that their stalls are dirty.

Once I get down to the barn, I turn the lights on and take a peek in Sandy’s stall first, only to see it’s almost completely clean.

It definitely has been mucked today at least. I check all the others and it’s the same.

Ma shouldn’t be down here doing this, and I feel even worse that she felt the need to. I hope she didn’t feed them.

My eyes catch on a small whiteboard we have hung up that we used to use, but lately it’s just been covered in dirt and I didn’t even know we had a dry erase marker for it. There’s a note, and I’m surprised to see who it’s from.

Cleaned up the stalls, didn’t feed them though. Thought you might need the help.

-Wes

I’ll have to thank him the next time I see him.

I wonder if Ma knows that he came down here or not, but I guess it doesn’t matter.

I feed them all and then leave for the night, going to the cattle next.

The goats, who make it known they aren’t happy with the late dinner come next, and thankfully the chickens are all back in their coop, so I lock them inside, and finally feed the pigs.

I look up at the sky and the stars seem extra bright tonight and I remember the envelope burning a hole in my back pocket.

Thinking back to what Ma said about reading it when I wanted to hear from him again.

On one hand I don’t know if I’m ready to, and on the other I’m so curious what he could possibly say that would change what I’ve thought about our relationship for years.

I walk through the open fields weighing my options until I reach the spot I came to with Sutton, and as soon as I’m down on the grass I wish she was here with me.

My arms feel empty without her in them. My ears miss the sound of her voice, my nose misses the sweet floral scent she always had.

My lips miss the taste of her. I just miss her.

Pulling out the envelope, I stare at it for a minute, still debating what to do. I could refuse to read it, let our last interaction be the final one between us. I could wait for another time.

A breeze hits me, and for some reason it makes me feel guilty for even considering putting it off. I may not know what it is I’m holding, but it’s my dad’s words, it has to be. And maybe for once I should hear him out.

So that’s exactly what I do.

Slipping my finger under the flap, I gently tear the envelope open and unfold the paper inside, revealing the hardly legible handwriting of my dad. I pull my phone out and turn the flashlight on so I can actually read the black ink scribbled on the paper.

Jameson,

I don’t know how to start this other than to say I know you and I don’t always agree on many things.

I know you don’t understand how I am a lot of the time, and that’s okay.

I don’t understand why you wanted to leave, but I’m proud of you for doing it.

I’ve never known how to tell you because it hurt, but I know you had to do it.

You had to find your own life. And your mom has always been so happy for you, we both have.

We got her diagnosis today and you said you’re coming back. I don’t want you coming back because you feel like you have to. I don’t want you uprooting the life you built out of obligation. We’ll be happy to have you, but I know you’re leaving your life behind.

Of course I wish you would have visited more, but we could have as well.

I’m sorry my pride has always stood in the way.

I’m sorry I’m not able to voice everything I’m feeling all the time.

I’m so proud of you. I love you. I don’t know if you’ll ever get this letter, we just got off the phone and I know you were upset.

I didn’t mean to do that, I just never say the right thing to you.

You’re so much like your mother, you and her have always been closer than us.

I wish that were different and I should put more of an effort in to change it.

I’m sorry. Jameson, I’m scared about what this means for your mother, and for our family.

She’s the glue and I fear, without her, you’ll never speak to me.

I don’t want that. Please forgive me one day, and I hope we can work through this together.

I don’t know what the future looks like but we’re family and I want to make sure we stay that way.

I love you.

-Dad

I don’t notice how hard I’m crying as I read the last words on the page, and tipping my head back, I look up toward the sky. “Why couldn’t you say any of this to me before?”

Another breeze goes by as if in answer and I look down at the paper again. It gives me one glaring thought. He ran out of time and we weren’t able to work through our problems before he was gone and I’m not about to make the same mistake.

I know I’m going to have to be on my knees for awhile, begging Sutton for forgiveness. I know it won’t be easy, nothing with her has been. But that’s one of the things I love about her the most. She makes me work for her and she’s worth every single second of it.

That breeze goes by again. “I don’t know if I’m insane, or if that really is you, Dad. But I’m sorry too.”

Everything seems to calm, and I take a deep breath, looking at a particularly bright star. “I love you, too. If somehow you are listening and can help me get my girl back, I would appreciate it.”

It’s almost like I can hear his chuckle at that, and I know everything is going to be okay. But first I’m going to have to beg for forgiveness. Which means I need a plan on how to do just that.