Page 125 of When You Wish Upon a Wideout
And then I realized that if she couldn’t be happy on the day that should be the happiest moment of our lives, she’s the one who deserves the wish, not me. So, I made it on her behalf and wished to go to the game so I could get to you. I need your help. I’m about to restart my life, and I need her to do the same. Because one day, I might not be cancer free again. I’ve been around the block before. They already called my first remission a miracle, and it didn’t last forever. I don’t think you get two miracles in a lifetime.
The worst part about being sick is that life still happens even when you’re too tired to get out of bed, too nauseous to stand. It happens during bone marrow aspirations and chemo. That has been the most unfair part. I’ve never actually been afraid of dying. I’m afraid of missing out on all the things I should do while I’m living.
And there’s another thing. I’m afraid for Mom. I’m afraid she has forgotten whatlivingactually is, what it means to dream big and chase those dreams. I know that since I was born, she’s lived for me. And when I got sick, she lived for me even harder. But what happens if I leave her too soon? Who does she live for then?
I know that long before me, she had you during a really hard time in her life. She doesn’t talk about my grandma very much, but I know a lot anyway. I know that she had a larger-than-life personality, that she went out of her way to make people happy and smile and put others before herself. I know that my mom is a lot like her, and that’s what I’m scared about. Because if she’s happy like her own mother, what if she’s sad like her too?
A tear fell from Sienna’s face, landing in the middle of the paper. And then another, smudging Grace’s words but not erasing them entirely and not blurring the rest of the letter Sienna wished she had never found but couldn’t look away from.
A long time ago, you gave her a reason to move out of the darkness. Friendship, young love, whatever it was. It was what she needed at the time. The darkness is deep for her right now, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. I’m not asking you to pull her out of it. I’m only asking you to remind her that thereisa way out if she wants it. She’s done it before, she can do it again... with your help.
My real wish is for you to do just that.
Sincerely,
Grace Clarke
PS: It’s pretty much a mortal sin to not grant the wish of a sick kid. I’m not technically sick right now, but I have been for long enough. Just make my mom happy the way you did all those years ago. I don’t tell her enough, but she deserves it. If you’re short on ideas on how to do that, there’s a list on the back of this paper.
PPS: This stays between us.
With a tremoring hand, Sienna turned the paper around. She didn’t want to read the list, didn’t want the hope in her heart, which had swelled with such joyful magic, to deflate back into soul-crushing disappointment and newfound embarrassment. Skimming it was enough for Sienna to know that she had been wrong to trust Beau, been wrong to believe in the fairy tale, the happily ever after. Words like “motorcycle” and “ocean” and “planetarium” popped up boldly as her eyes drifted down.
A quick skim said it all. Because it was like Beau had told her before,“You can’t really say no to a sick kid, can you?”
hopeless wishes
Dear Mom,
Going to a lantern festival should’ve been the best night of my life. I mean, who loves a dark sky and bright lights more than me? Only you, maybe.
But I should’ve known, even before I got into Beau’s truck, that things were... I was going to write that things were going to take a turn for the worse, but they didn’t take a turn at all, Mom. They ended.
I was getting dressed while Beau was talking to Dad. And I didn’t hear everything, but heard enough. Dad said, “You need to do what you feel is right for yourself.” There was this disappointed tone in his voice, which he never used with Beau, who said something about “Florida” and “this weekend.”
My heart didn’t want to connect the pieces, so I walked into the living room where they sat and said, “I’m ready.”
But Dad looked like he wasn’t seeingme, but me a while ago—his little girl. He folded his lips and shifted them back and forth. And do you know what was in his eyes, Mom? Pity. It’s the worst thing ever to be looked at with.
Beau was quiet in the car. I shifted, bouncing my leg, fiddling with the radio, smoothing down my dress. Really, I was waiting for Beau to take my hand or squeeze my knee—anything that would wake me up from this dream before it turned into a nightmare.
I tried to stop my hands from shaking when we took our lanterns and markers. And what I wrote on that paper got smudged by the tears that hit it when I saw what Beau had written on his paper—I hope Sienna forgives me.
I looked down at what I had written—I wish for us forever— and scribbled it out. I didn’t want to waste a wish on someone who was about to break my heart. So what I wished for that night was a family—a real one. I wrote and wrote everything I could, nearly filling the paper lantern. I wished for a father who could show up for his kids, a brother who didn’t push me away when I needed him. I couldn’t wish for another mom because there could never be one like you again.
So, I wished that when I become a mother one day, I’d be like you but better. I wished I’d be the one who stays around no matter what, the one who teaches her kids to live, laugh, have fun, and never give up, because even though I knew what was coming—a brick wall of heartbreak—I wouldn’t give up.
I know Beau saw what I wrote because his face changed. Pity again, two times in one night.
When we got to the line, my hands were shaking so hard that I couldn’t hold the lantern up for the attendant to light the flame, so I handed it to Beau. “I’ll wait by the car.” I had no idea if he sent his or mine up to the sky. I didn’t care
The ride home was quiet. “You’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question.
“This weekend,” was all he replied. “I passed the last exam I needed to fulfill my graduation requirements.”
I knew Beau would leave one day. But one day wasn’t meant to be this weekend and my sadness battled my anger over Beau’s nonchalant tone and the quickness of his answer. It was like he didn’t think his words would rip me open and strangle my heart.
“I’m moving to Florida to train with a program they recommended. I’ll know FSU’s offense in and out by the time preseason starts.”
