letters are passed out, we all take off in different directions, all of us wanting to be alone. Mona has Hunter, so I don’t need to worry about him.
Getting home, I sit on the couch, the letter clenched in my hand, and finally open it.
Mason,
My boy, you are one stubborn son of a bitch. I understand why you feel the way you do about Eden, but don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh? Should she have made the girls promise not to tell you guys anything? No. However, it was also Hilary and Lilly’s choice not to say anything. They are all at fault with this, but you are just taking your anger out on one person.
The person you should be mad at is yourself, for how you treated Hilary during your marriage. You need to live, Mason. Live for that little boy Hilary was able to give you. Live for yourself, and live for Moira. I know you love her. Don’t let her slip through your fingers just because you are hanging on to a ghost.
Now, listen to me. I sound like Lilly, all serious and level-headed and shit.
I might never have said this out loud to you, but I love you, boy. You’re a good kid that just went down a bad road.
I’ll say hi to Hilary for you, and if you don’t move on from this mess, I’ll haunt you my damned self.
Have a beer for me,
Eleanor Shepard
I crumple up the letter and hang my head down. She’s right. Fuck, I hate that she was always right. Wait, I open the letter back up and look at the name. Her name was Eleanor? I didn’t know that.
Going to my fridge, I get out a beer and open it. “You were crazy, Eleanor, but you were always right. This is for you.” I down it quickly and find myself wondering how she knew it was her time. By the sound of her letter, she was ready.
I haven’t heard from Mason since our night together, well okay I have, I just never answered the phone when he called. I haven’t tried to reach out to him, either. It’s not like I know what to say. Is there anything to say after that disaster? He called out her name. I know she was his wife, but she’s gone. I know he loved her and always will, but doesn’t he have room for me in that heart of his?
I go through the motions at work. My head turns every time I hear a motorcycle, wondering if it is him.
Finally, he sends me a text, inviting me to his place. I don’t know how to feel about it… him… everything, but we need to talk. The past month, we have had this intense on again off again relationship. Some days, we are so good, and others, he goes distant again.
I pull up to Mason’s house and feel slightly weird. He shared this home with his wife. Will he feel awkward having me here? Last time, it didn’t go so well.
I don’t even get to knock on the door before it swings open, and Mason is standing there, shirt off, sweaty and grinning at me.
“Hunter’s in the living room, playing with some toys. I just need to finish up in the kitchen.”
When I walk in, the smell of garlic and Alfredo hits my nose. He cooked? For me? Holy shit! He is really making an effort.
I grin at Hunter as he bangs his car on the top of a ball.
I am nervous Mason will freak if I get too close to him again, but he is so dang cute, grinning at me with his toothy slobbery smile. How can I deny him my attention? I sit in the floor with him and speak softly, not to attract Mason. “Hey, little man. I’m Moira. I am a friend of your dad’s, and I hope we can be friends, too.”
Surprisingly, I look up to see Mason smiling at us. “Grab Hunter. Food’s ready.”
I nod. Okay. He is in a good mood. This is going good. We sit down at the table; Hunter is to his left in his highchair, and I am on his right.
“This is great.” I compliment his culinary skills.
He takes my hand. “I’m sorry for what happened. I didn’t mean it. I guess I am just used to her. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I know he is sorry, and I knew coming in that this would be hard. I have to give a little, too, if I want this. “I
Getting home, I sit on the couch, the letter clenched in my hand, and finally open it.
Mason,
My boy, you are one stubborn son of a bitch. I understand why you feel the way you do about Eden, but don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh? Should she have made the girls promise not to tell you guys anything? No. However, it was also Hilary and Lilly’s choice not to say anything. They are all at fault with this, but you are just taking your anger out on one person.
The person you should be mad at is yourself, for how you treated Hilary during your marriage. You need to live, Mason. Live for that little boy Hilary was able to give you. Live for yourself, and live for Moira. I know you love her. Don’t let her slip through your fingers just because you are hanging on to a ghost.
Now, listen to me. I sound like Lilly, all serious and level-headed and shit.
I might never have said this out loud to you, but I love you, boy. You’re a good kid that just went down a bad road.
I’ll say hi to Hilary for you, and if you don’t move on from this mess, I’ll haunt you my damned self.
Have a beer for me,
Eleanor Shepard
I crumple up the letter and hang my head down. She’s right. Fuck, I hate that she was always right. Wait, I open the letter back up and look at the name. Her name was Eleanor? I didn’t know that.
Going to my fridge, I get out a beer and open it. “You were crazy, Eleanor, but you were always right. This is for you.” I down it quickly and find myself wondering how she knew it was her time. By the sound of her letter, she was ready.
I haven’t heard from Mason since our night together, well okay I have, I just never answered the phone when he called. I haven’t tried to reach out to him, either. It’s not like I know what to say. Is there anything to say after that disaster? He called out her name. I know she was his wife, but she’s gone. I know he loved her and always will, but doesn’t he have room for me in that heart of his?
I go through the motions at work. My head turns every time I hear a motorcycle, wondering if it is him.
Finally, he sends me a text, inviting me to his place. I don’t know how to feel about it… him… everything, but we need to talk. The past month, we have had this intense on again off again relationship. Some days, we are so good, and others, he goes distant again.
I pull up to Mason’s house and feel slightly weird. He shared this home with his wife. Will he feel awkward having me here? Last time, it didn’t go so well.
I don’t even get to knock on the door before it swings open, and Mason is standing there, shirt off, sweaty and grinning at me.
“Hunter’s in the living room, playing with some toys. I just need to finish up in the kitchen.”
When I walk in, the smell of garlic and Alfredo hits my nose. He cooked? For me? Holy shit! He is really making an effort.
I grin at Hunter as he bangs his car on the top of a ball.
I am nervous Mason will freak if I get too close to him again, but he is so dang cute, grinning at me with his toothy slobbery smile. How can I deny him my attention? I sit in the floor with him and speak softly, not to attract Mason. “Hey, little man. I’m Moira. I am a friend of your dad’s, and I hope we can be friends, too.”
Surprisingly, I look up to see Mason smiling at us. “Grab Hunter. Food’s ready.”
I nod. Okay. He is in a good mood. This is going good. We sit down at the table; Hunter is to his left in his highchair, and I am on his right.
“This is great.” I compliment his culinary skills.
He takes my hand. “I’m sorry for what happened. I didn’t mean it. I guess I am just used to her. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I know he is sorry, and I knew coming in that this would be hard. I have to give a little, too, if I want this. “I
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