Page 96 of How to Make a Wish
Calm serenity rimmed with fiery energy.
Us.
There’s no note, but that’s not too surprising. The necklace speaks for itself. The return address speaks for itself.
She granted my wish.
She’s getting help. She’s still my mom and I’m still her daughter and we’re still us, somewhere under everything we’ve been through.
“That’s beautiful,” Eva says. “Did she make that?”
I can only nod, the tears blurring my vision.
“Want me to help you put it on?”
She takes the necklace out of the box, and I lift my hair so she can circle the delicate chain around my neck. Her hands linger on my throat as the cool glass settles on my chest, just above my sternum.
I look down at the necklace. It’s not a lot. Such a small thing, really. But it’s something. A start. A hand reaching out. A change. Maybe it’ll all go to shit again. Maybe real healing for Mom and me will take a few rounds of falling apart and coming back together. I don’t know. Time will tell, I guess.
For now, I can breathe. I know where she is and that she’s safe, and I can breathe. I can go to New York with her necklace pressed against my heart and play out my Fantasie.
No, I never thought I’d be doing this without my mother.
I never really thought I’d be doing this at all.
And I sure as hell never thought I’d be doing it with Eva’s hand in mine.
I would never think any of it, all this missing and sadness mingling with happiness and relief.
But that’s the funny thing about wishes.
