Whispering Waves Read online

  Whispering Waves

  Jamie Berris

  Whispering Waves

  Jamie Berris

  Copyright © 2016 Jamie Berris

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Edited by Theresa Wegand

  Cover by Sarah Hansen at Okay Creations

  To Jason, Alex, Tori, Cole, and Miya, my everything.

  To Grandpa Norm, my mourning dove.

  To Grandma Barbie, my comfort.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Lydia’s Last Day

  Sadie

  Nicholas was down the road at the neighbor’s house for the day, playing with his friend Gabriella. Lydia had already said her good-byes to him, and now it was time for her to do the same with Sadie and Jayna. Sadie’s mom was in the guest bedroom, the room set up for Grandma Rose and Grandpop when they came home for visits from their winters in Florida and summers up north on Torch Lake.

  Even though they had almost seven months to digest their mother’s fate, it still seemed surreal, so unfair. Sadie couldn’t help but wish for some miracle to happen. She had prayed and prayed—the thought of life without a mother was too hard to comprehend.

  As Lydia’s breaths became shallow and further apart, Sadie knew no miracle was taking place, no extra time, no more family vacations, no more Friday family date nights eating out or trips to the mall together.

  Sadie and Jayna were on either side of the bed, each hanging on to one of their mother’s hands. Sadie was stroking the back of Lydia’s hand. Lydia’s breathing had become labored, but occasionally she would gently squeeze her daughters’ fingers. Sadie didn’t know if she was doing it on purpose or if it was a reflex.

  Grandma Rose, Grandpop, Aunt Josie, Aunt Nevie, and Dad all sat in the chairs sprawled around the bed. The silence in the room was only broken by the sound of a mourning dove sitting on the roof, cooing.

  With everyone in the room, Sadie felt like she was suffocating and was overwhelmed and overcome with tears. Her tears set off Jayna’s, and then, like a ripple effect, everyone’s in the room. One by one they all moved in closer and huddled on the bed, scooting close to make room for one another.

  Grandma Rose was the first to speak up. “This isn’t what our Lydia wanted. She wanted us to be by her side and talk about all the wonderful memories we’ve created with her.”

  “Hold hands,” said Grandma Rose.

  Sadie had her mom’s hand in one and grabbed her Aunt Josie’s in the other.

  Grandma Rose started praying, “Lord, you have chosen to take our dear Lydia to live in your Heavenly Kingdom where she will await each of us. Let us carry her in our hearts and know she will be at peace with you and we will be reunited with her when you have declared us to do so. Comfort us in our time of grief and help us to treasure the memories she is leaving behind. Take her with your grace and touch us with your healing hands. In your name, we pray.”

  “Amen,” they all said together.

  Just like that, they all looked to one another with drier eyes. It was always like Grandma Rose to take control.

  Sadie stroked her mother’s forehead with one hand and rubbed her thumb across her other hand as she held it. Jayna had both of her hands cupped around Lydia’s, and Kurt placed his hands on his wife’s leg. Aunt Josie was sitting cross legged at the end of the bed, massaging her sister’s feet, and Aunt Nevie had come to the top of the bed where she could rest a hand on her sister’s head. Grandma Rose and Grandpop were on the other side of the bed, stroking their daughter’s leg and arm.

  “She can feel it,” Aunt Josie said. “She can feel us, our touch and our love.”

  Lydia May Booker took her last breath and passed away, knowing her family had each other.

  ~*~

  May 6, 2013

  As Sadie glanced around the cemetery, she noted the signs of new life everywhere. The trees were heavy with buds just about to bloom. The daffodils, a beautiful canary yellow, and tulips, in every shade of color, opened toward the sun. Somehow, with all this beauty, Sadie still felt engulfed by death and its ugliness.

  While singing “Amazing Grace,” Dylan took her hand in his and kissed it. She turned to him and saw his eyes were welled up with tears. The sight nearly made her break down again.

  She and Dylan had been going out for six months and she thanked her lucky stars every day for him. Losing her mother would have been ten times worse without him by her side.

  Her grandmother grasped her other hand and eyed her to see if she was okay. Grandma Rose looked stunning, as usual, in her tailored cream suit and pink wool coat. Sadie saw many of her mother’s features when she looked at her grandmother. Her mother and grandmother had often been told they looked like sisters.

  Lydia had always kept her sandy blond hair long and loose. Her large, almond-shaped, brown eyes had rarely sported anything more than a coat of mascara, but her full lips were always played up with different colors of lipstick. Her mom had been a head turner, and frankly, Sadie was proud of that.

  Sadie resembled her mother more in mannerisms and personality than anything. With dark hair, pale blue eyes, and fair clear skin, she was definitely her father’s child when it came to looks, but that was okay with Sadie since she always received compliments about the contrast between her dark hair and light eyes.

  Jayna, Sadie’s younger sister,
who would someday pass for their mother’s twin, had her head buried in their grandpop’s chest. Their dad held three-year-old Nicholas, who looked a touch like their mom, but nothing like Sadie or their dad.

  Sadie heard the sniffing of both her Aunt Nevie and Aunt Josie behind her and contemplated taking them up on their offer to fly back to NYC with them after the funeral.

  They dually owned an upscale boutique and were constantly calling with news of celebrities shopping in their store. It was tempting, but Sadie couldn’t imagine leaving her family right now.

  As “Amazing Grace” echoed to a close, the minister said one last prayer. One by one, mourners placed pink, yellow, and purple tulips on her mother’s casket before meandering to their cars, cars which filled every road and crevice of the cemetery and beyond.

  The cemetery had emptied out and fallen quiet except for a single mourning dove perched on the fence nearest Lydia’s gravesite. As they individually said their good-byes, the bird broke out in song, “Whoo-ahh-whoo-whoo-whoo.” Sadie didn’t speak it out loud, but she felt her mother’s spirit watching over them.

  The luncheon following the funeral was tolerable, thanks to the Valium Sadie’s grandmother slipped her. If Sadie’s dad had known, he would have strangled his mother-in-law. He was still irked about the belly-button ring Grandma Rose had paid for and had driven Sadie to get last month.

  Sadie had explained to her dad a thousand times that both she and her Grandma Rose had okayed it with Mom. Kurt had only glared at Sadie. They both knew that, with only weeks to live, Lydia was not going to deny her daughter anything. Sadie had no argument; she was fully aware that she’d taken total advantage of her mother’s illness, but sometimes that’s just what fifteen-year-olds do.

  “Say-dee,” Nicholas whined, squeezing her leg, pulling and grabbing at her as he begged her to pick him up.

  She looked down at his face smeared with frosting and lifted him to her chest where he laid his tired head on his big sister’s shoulder. Sadie wiped the sweet lavender icing from his cheek and let him lick it off her finger, thinking it would have been more appropriate to serve dirt dessert at a funeral rather than cake.

  The luncheon turned into a two-hour celebration of Lydia’s life, with a video and countless pictures. Hundreds of people crammed into the ballroom at the country club for turkey and avocado pesto wraps, chopped chicken salad, and seafood chowder—Lydia’s favorite lunch items on the menu.

  Sadie wanted nothing more than to get out of the confining room and away from all the old people smothering her with kisses and hugs and telling her it was going to be alright.

  Alright? Alright going home to a house without the glue that held the family together? Alright having to be the one to do the laundry for a family of four? Alright trying to comfort three-year-old Nicholas as he cried for his mommy at breakfast, lunch, nap time, bedtime, and countless times in between?

  Alright trying to do homework or make it to tennis practice when Sadie felt obligated to spend every second reading or playing trains with Nicholas, trying to soothe his sadness? Alright trying to act like everything was alright when her mother was dead and she was only fifteen, suddenly thrown into her role?

  Why was it so hard, even for adults, to understand that, sometimes, saying nothing at all spoke louder and clearer than a bunch of nervous garbage? Sadie’s mother always told her she was wise beyond her years. Maybe this was one of those moments, or maybe she was just sick of people telling her she was going to be alright. Everything felt completely all wrong.

  Annoying Sadie further was the fact that Marissa, her mother’s worst enemy, not only attended the funeral but hugged her dad thirty seconds too long and talked privately with him for almost five minutes.

  Sadie wasn’t the only one to notice either. She caught her mother’s longtime friend, Andrea glancing their way suspiciously several times.

  After stepping away from her dad, Marissa moved in on Jayna. She hugged her, stepped back, and spoke to her while resting her hands on both of Jayna’s shoulders, and then hugged her a second time.

  Why Sadie thought Marissa wouldn’t seek her out as well was silly. When Marissa approached Sadie, with Nicholas still clinging to her chest, Marissa’s bottom lip trembled. She held out her arms, and to Sadie’s surprise, Nicholas went right to her.

  What? He doesn’t even know her! Who does she think she is waltzing over here and taking Nicholas from her?

  Marissa proceeded to hug and kiss Nicholas’s cheeks and forehead while resting a hand on Sadie’s shoulder telling her to call her if she ever needed help with anything. She offered to give Sadie rides to tennis, help with babysitting Nicholas, deliver meals, grocery shop, or take the girls shopping.

  Marissa must have sensed both the confusion and anger on Sadie’s face. She quickly handed Nicholas back over to Sadie and said how sorry she was. Sadie wasn’t sure if Marissa meant sorry for her loss or sorry for overstepping her boundaries and being inappropriate.

  Marissa’s eyes were filled with tears as she walked away, grabbing Paige’s arm as she stood talking with Sadie’s friends, and left the country club.

  Sadie wished she knew what had caused the rift between her mom and Marissa in the first place. Her mother was extremely tight-lipped whenever Sadie asked her about it.

  Marissa and Lydia had been best friends since college. Marissa had been the maid of honor at Kurt and Lydia’s wedding. She’d held their children as infants, and there was a time when Sadie and Jayna called her Aunt Rissy.

  The two families had countless barbecues and many vacations together. Marissa and her husband Marcus started having problems about five years ago, and Lydia was there helping Marissa through many brutal fights. Then, a year later, all hell broke loose, Marissa and Marcus divorced, and Lydia and Marissa’s friendship was shattered.

  For the first year or two, both Sadie and Jayna asked about Aunt Rissy and Paige. Lydia had skirted around with excuses about being too sick to do anything social when she was pregnant with Nicholas, and then too busy with Nicholas when he was a baby. Lydia also explained that Marissa was going through a rough time with her divorce and she needed alone time.

  Finally, the girls were old enough to understand that the friendship was broken, to say the least. Sadie knew something big went down, so much so that, when their mothers were at school functions and ran into each other, they both looked the other way; not even the slightest nod was shared.

  ~*~

  Finally, in the safety of the car, Sadie turned around to see that Nicholas had fallen asleep in the backseat next to Jayna. Jayna’s ear buds were stuffed in her ears and were turned up so loud that Sadie could sing along with her from the front seat. Normally, their mom would have told her to turn it down before she went deaf. Dad didn’t have the energy or guts to say anything to her, and Sadie liked the fact that it kept Jayna quiet. Things were definitely going to be different without a mom.

  Sitting in the front seat with her dad, Sadie was instructed to pick a radio station. Kurt stared straight ahead, eyes on the road. His features looked softer today than they had in as long as Sadie could remember. She couldn’t quite tell if it was sadness or relief.

  “Sadie, we’re still a family,” he said.

  She waited, expecting him to go on. He didn’t, and they sat in silence the rest of the way home. Beyoncé was singing “Irreplaceable” on the radio. Sadie wondered if her dad would ever date again. She wondered if he would replace her mom; she hoped he realized that Mom was irreplaceable.

  Dear Sadie,

  As you know, I have written you many little notes to read from time to time. Some I have dated for you to open on specific days or events; others are just general garbage that you can grab and read whenever you want to hear my “rambling” as you call it, or maybe it’s nagging, whatever.

  I’m sure you recognize the decorative box as you were the one who picked it out at the craft store (for Jayna’s dance certificates). At the time, I couldn’t tell you that i
t was actually for these letters because it was too hard to accept.

  Obviously, the dated ones are meant for specific events, but you have my blessing to tear through the entire box at once if you wish. I can only hope they guide you through many stages of your life—just as I would have.

  This one was to be opened on the day of my funeral, a day I know you will never forget. I’m hoping for a beautiful spring day, but if we get a raging thunderstorm, I guess that would be okay too. How many thunderstorms have we sat and watched in the screened porch together, Sadie? Too many to count, that’s for sure. Not many two-year-olds are obsessed with thunderstorms. Most are scared to death, but you always found them fascinating. I’ve always found you fascinating. I love and admire your fearlessness, curiosity, and drive for adventure.

  I hope you remembered to spread the word that I didn’t want everyone wearing black to my funeral. I want color, but since you weren’t supposed to open this up until after the funeral, it’s okay if you forgot. At least I don’t have to worry about Grandma; we know black is not her color. She will either wear cream or pale pink, lilac, or possibly a pale yellow if the sun is out. Was I right? Laugh, Sadie, please.

  I want people telling jokes, funny stories, and remembering me for the life I was so fortunate to live. Oh, I just thought of something. Remember Lila Briggs from our old church? She has to be about 110 by now. Anyhow, to every funeral she attends, she wears a hat that looks as if a cockatiel has been strangled and pinned to her head. I’m not sure if it represents something, but it’s bright orange with blue, green, yellow, red, and purple feathers mangled on it. I hope it makes you smile when you see her. I know Nicholas will probably blurt something out about it, which is okay. Let him—it will get a laugh out of people.

  Sadie, I know today is going to be rough, especially for you because you’re the one in the family who has always been worried about everyone else. Jayna and Nicholas are in good hands, and I know you want to be strong for them, but honey, don’t forget to take care of yourself. Dad, well, we all know how Dad deals with curve balls. He ducks, so bring him back to reality every now and then.

  Keep your chin up, sweetie, and stay strong. You’ve always been a fighter—don’t quit on me.