"Yeah. I'm doing ok, it's just been emotional, you know? Going through all this stuff, looking through memories that I almost forgot."
Allie stops on one picture in particular, one from the hospital a few days after we were born.
We're both swaddled up tight and resting in our mother's arms, our dads standing behind their wheelchairs, Granny and Gramps in between them.
Everyone is smiling so big, our moms practically glowing, beaming with joy, the same excitement clear on our dads’ faces.
Little did they know at the time, but that would be a scene repeated dozens of times until it couldn't be anymore.
We were born in Ohio, all lived on the same block.
Our dads were twins, both married their high school sweethearts, both worked at the same law firm with our grandpa as soon as they graduated college.
Allie and I grew up together, lived only a few houses apart, and our grandparents smack dab in the middle of them. We had the American dream for almost fifteen years before everything changed... in the worst way.
When we were fourteen, right after our birthday, Uncle Paul—Allie’s dad—was involved in a hit and run. Some maniac that didn't know how to drive hit him early in the morning while he was out for his routine jog. Uncle Paul died on impact, the driver never even slowed down, didn't stop and disappeared without a trace.
Her mom, Aunt Linda, went totally off the deep end after that. She was put on a ton of meds to help her cope, but wound up creating a dependency that she sought to fill in every way she could find. Linda started doing drugs, parading man after man through their house, jumped from one bed to the next in order to support her habit, and she basically stopped taking care of herself as well as Allie.
So, two months later, Allie moved in with us and things were ok for a while. Then they weren't.
Not even six months after Uncle Paul passed, my parents were involved in a horrible car accident, a six car pile up on the freeway while they were on their way home from one of my mom's business trips.
Peter and Louise Masters were pronounced dead at the scene, and Allie and I were left orphans.
Granny and Gramps took us in, gave us our dads’ old bedrooms, and parented a couple of broken teenage girls the best they could, all while they were pushing seventy.
Gramps worked well past his retirement years, gave up his plans to move to California and retire on the coast, just so we could stay in our school and graduate with our friends.
Allie got accepted into the University of Oregon and decided to make a drastic change, decided to get as far away from her mom as possible, and I was accepted into the California Institute of the Arts, which is when Granny and Gramps were finally able to move to Cali.
So we all made big changes, big plans to do great things, and we did for a while.
I got a degree in photojournalism, traveled the world, and did some amazing things while I pretended like the death sentence I received at eighteen didn't exist, and Allie worked toward becoming the best social worker Oregon had ever seen.
Then, about four years after we started our lives, Gramps got sick—stage four kidney disease—so Allie and I both went back to Culver City to help Granny take care of him until he passed. Then, a few years later, Granny was diagnosed with breast cancer and I moved in permanently, gave up my career, and kept my struggles a secret so Allie didn't have to give up hers. And even though Allie quit going to school because it was too hard to maintain with traveling back and forth between Oregon and Cali, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat because my cousin, my best friend and favorite human, has been able to have the best life she could in spite of it. She was able to fall in love and raise two beautiful little girls that deserve the world and then some.
"Rose môjho srdca?"
We both look up at the deep voice coming from the doorway to see Andrej standing there, his dark eyes full of warmth and concern.
"The movers are here for the last of the furniture."
Allie nods and shoots him a watery smile. "We'll be right down."
But Andrej shakes his head. "I will direct them. You finish here then tell me when you need me to load the rest of what you are keeping.” He glances at the hope chest and lifts a brow.
"Allie wants it.” I nod. "We're just going to add a few more things, then you can take it downstairs."
But instead of going back down to assist the movers, Andrej steps his big body into the small walk-in, crouches down, and tilts Allie's face toward his. He searches her eyes briefly then presses a sweet kiss to her lips and I look away.
I am so happy for her, for them, but it still sort of hurts to see that kind of love when I know I'll never have it.
I don't have enough time left.
When I turn back to them, I find Andrej staring at me, a strange but not unpleasant look on his so-handsome face just before he takes my chin in his hand, tilts my face and presses a kiss to my forehead.
"Už nie si sama, sestra môjho srdcá, budeš mat' všetko, co si želáš a viac, láska, ktorú si tak zaslúžiš, bude trvat' cely život."
