Finding Me

“I feel like I’m dreaming. I’m not though, right? You’re here?”

I smile and nod. “I’m here.”

She shakes her head and pulls me to her once again.

“I really want to talk to you. I have so much to explain, but I need to talk to Max really quick, first.”

“Ace?” Max steps behind Kendall, followed by his dad and Jameson. I hadn’t anticipated an audience during the million times I thought about this scene and how it would play out as I travelled across the entire country, but I work to push my discomfort aside and breathe. “What are you doing here?”

Kendall takes a few steps back as Max takes a few hesitant ones forward, and I lift my shoes for him to take.

His brow furrows as he takes the laces from my fingers. “What are … why are you giving me your … your shoes?”

I work to ignore the fact that the others are all looking at me with earnest anticipation and curiosity and focus on Max. “They’re the last piece of me.” My voice is quieter and sounds hoarse and broken, so I clear my throat. “I’m giving you my last piece. I didn’t know how else to show you that I’m not afraid anymore. You have to work with me a little with the metaphor here—”

My words stop as Max’s lips land on mine with a need that resonates in my soul.

When he pulls back, a smile is spread across his face. Cheers register and I look over Max’s shoulder to see Kendall, Tim, Jameson, Wes, and Landon all yelling and cheering. I smile and watch Jameson and Kendall hug as she bounces on her toes with excitement. My eyes float across the small group that I love as family and see their warm smiles. I stop when I reach Wes, who gives me a wink with a single nod before my sole focus returns to Max.

Just Max.

“How in the hell did he know?”

I raise my eyebrows in confusion.

“I have something for you to read later, but I think these guys want to see you first. And before that, I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to kiss the hell out of you until you don’t have a single doubt about being here.”

“I don’t have a single one,” I whisper against his cheek as he leans down to hug me. “Not a single one.”

Max still kisses me, long and hard, and the others give us an encore applause before finally disappearing into the house and allowing us a small bit of privacy.

“What do you have for me to read?”

“Do you want to read it now or go see everyone?”

“I want to read it. I want to explain everything—I have so much to tell you.”

Max’s hands clasp both sides of my face, and his forehead leans against mine as he releases a soft breath that holds the hint of mint and the promise of him.

He leads me to his room and opens the bottom drawer of his nightstand, revealing stacks of pictures of the two of us and of just me. One of my old anatomy flashcard sits in the back, and my most recent note is folded in half, covering several other previous ones. He fishes to the bottom of the drawer with a knowing practice and extracts a white envelope that has his name scrawled across it in my father’s handwriting. I look at Max as he pushes it toward me.

“He wanted you to read it when you were ready,” he explains softly.

A part of me feels anxious to read more words from my father and relish in this feeling that has descended upon me since reading his letter to me. Yet my chest tightens with a new wave of heartache from missing him.

I sit on the edge of Max’s bed and carefully open the letter.

Dear Max,

Each year in December I write a new letter to each of my girls, and also to their families. I know that you aren’t married yet, but I’ll bet my last dime that you’re going to be a member of our family forever, so I thought I may as well begin your stack of letters this year as well.

I write these letters so I can impart some final advice to my girls on the off chance that something ever happens to me, and I’m not there to help them in the way that I’ve always strived to.

When Muriel was pregnant with Mindi, we didn’t know she was a girl. Part of me had wanted a boy, someone to rebuild cars with, and watch sports, and one day drink a beer with, and talk about him proposing to a girl that he loved as much as I love Muriel. Five girls later I don’t have a single regret. I have cherished every single makeover, Barbie session, and tea party more than words could ever explain, and I look forward to enjoying them with all of my grandchildren, or granddaughters as they love to tease. They’re filled with the best things that life has to offer, and part of that is the emotions that sometimes run high. I’ve strived to balance between supporting them and offering them advice that will guide them in the right direction, without curtailing their own journey and decisions in the process.

I also write to them and tell them my favorite memories throughout the past year. This is difficult because there isn’t a single day that has passed over the last thirty years of my life that I haven’t loved my girls more than life itself. They’ve given me more amazing memories than most people experience in a lifetime.

We’ll start with the memories, but since this is my first letter to you, I need to go back a little further—back to the first day I met you and knew that you were going to play a role in my family. I knew it the second I saw you. I just didn’t realize what it would be until I saw Ace discreetly watching you each time she passed by a front window or stepped outside.

I pray that you’ll never see this letter, and chances are good you won’t, but on the off chance you do, there are some things I need to tell you.

First and foremost, it was your father’s loss that he didn’t get to watch you grow up and become the most amazingly wonderful man alive (Ace’s description … but I agree.) Don’t carry guilt or regret in your heart for someone that doesn’t deserve it. Focus on all of the people that love you, and if you ever need a reminder, I know six Bosse women that would be happy to do so.

The next is to have fun and be silly. Regardless of how old you are, find the joys in everything you do and with the people you enjoy doing them with.

I’ve come to love you as a son in a very short period of time. I wish I’d been this close to you since the day you moved in and my daughter began climbing out her bedroom window to watch the new neighbors. She was drawn to you even before either of you knew it. I know you’ve dated other girls and resolved some problems in ways that Ace considers barbaric, but I want you to know I don’t hold any of it against you, or think any less of you. Those experiences allowed you to realize how special Ace was when you two finally slowed down and stopped dancing around one another.

And my Ace, my Ace is so special. There are few people that can touch someone’s soul, and Ace has that effect with just a smile. There’s no way I can put into words how special she is, and I’m sure you know exactly what I mean when you read this, because she’s becoming your Ace.

If something is to ever happen to me I fear she’s going to run. You’ve already seen that she runs from troubles. Thankfully, she’s pretty much always run home to me, and I will say that although hearing and seeing her unhappy breaks my heart, knowing that she can come to me and feel safe has always been one of my greatest accomplishments. I’ve noticed lately that she’s begun turning to you. At first this really hurt me; she’s never chosen anyone over me … ever. That’s how I knew how much she cared about you. That week after your birthday she came all the way home to seek comfort from me, and then left me to go to you, and from there forward she began to seek comfort and support from you. Please, Max, from the very depth of my soul I plead to you to give it to her. I know it’s silly and pointless to ask, you’ve told me yourself how much you love her, and I know in my heart that it’s true. However, if she loses me too early, which she won’t—I refuse to go!—but for the sake of my sanity, if something does happen, you have to let her go.