Laura Miller - By Way of Accident

“It’s a girl!” I make the announcement to the waiting room full of Brooke’s family and my mom and dad and sister and Tim, who’s now a teacher and a baseball coach for our old high school, and his family. The room explodes into cheers, but I don’t wait to hear all their congratulations. In a second, I’m running back to the room where the two loves of my life are resting.

Brooke and I got married in a little church not too far from where I grew up and where she once spent a summer. It was a pretty, sunny day in September. She wore white and carried daisies. And she was beautiful — as always.

“Hey, baby,” I say when I get back into the room.

“Shh,” Brooke says, smiling at me. She’s sleeping , she mouths.

“Oh,” I whisper, before I tiptoe the rest of the way to her bedside.

I get to the bed, and I plant a kiss on Brooke’s forehead, and then I look at our baby girl. “She’s beautiful,” I whisper.

I hear Brooke smile, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off the life we created together. She looks like Brooke. I’m so thankful for that and also thankful that from the moment I spotted Brooke on the other side of that creek that hot, summer day, fate was working. And in the nine years we spent apart, making a life for ourselves, fate was working. And when an old woman heard a little voice tell her to look inside the chair of an old hall tree, fate was working — literally.

I notice Brooke glance at me and then back at our baby girl. “I love you, Moirae,” she whispers and softly kisses the pink knitted hat on her head. “I love you, baby girl.”

I watch the both of them, and then I notice the shiny, little quartz heart around Brooke’s neck. I had kept it all those years. For almost a decade, that little heart necklace rested in a nightstand drawer in my childhood bedroom. And now, I replay what Brooke told me about the quartz heart so many years ago: It’s supposed to hold your dreams until they come true . And then, I swear, the breath escapes right out of my lungs because I realize in that moment, that right beside me, nestled together in a hospital bed, are my dreams — my two dreams come true.

Iwalk past an old hall tree and slip out onto the porch. I can’t help but smile every time I see that damn thing. It was my wedding gift to Brooke. And I kind of like to think it was Grandpa’s gift to Brooke as well. It was his, after all. It took me dang near three months to finally track it down. I ended up buying it from a little old lady for twice as much as she paid for it. And then it took all the strength Tim, Grant, my dad and I had to load it onto my truck. But it was worth it — just to see the smile on Brooke’s face.

I set my glass down onto the porch railing and catch an open box sitting at my feet. We’ve been moving stuff for months now trying to get ready for the baby. And somehow, I guess a couple boxes got out here. It’s still hard to believe that this is the same porch I always used to catch Mrs. Catcher smiling at. I only hope Brooke and I can make just as many happy invisible memories here as it seemed she had.

It’s pretty dark, but I notice an old envelope sticking out of the half-open box. I reach down and grab it. On one side are two red lips and underneath are the words: Good-bye, River. I recognize it — not because I’ve read the letter before but because I’ve seen the inscription before. It’s the same envelope that the old woman from the antique store — Moirae — secretly gave to Brooke and the same one I saw in her back pocket later that afternoon. I set it onto the railing, trying to decide if I should read the letter inside or not. But before long, my curiosity gets the best of me, and I go to examining the envelope. It’s already been opened once, so I carefully slide the blue stationery out and unfold the page. And then using what little bit of moonlight there is, my eyes go to reading her words:

Dear Riv,

I haven’t heard from you since my last letter. I guess I did lose you in the move after all. I just wanted to give you a proper good-bye. But know that I love you, River. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you on the other side of that creek bank. Yes, I saw you first.

I love you because you’re a dreamer like me. Even though you don’t know it yet, you are. I love you because you think I’m fearless even though I’m not. I love you because you’re not afraid to be afraid. I love you because you’re beautiful and you have a sweet heart. I love you because you think I’m pretty. I love you because you showed up. And I love you because you made me feel like I was home for a summer. But mostly, I love you just because you’re you…and because it’s Tuesday. But I understand if we can’t write anymore. I understand you lose things in the move. I understand it’s hard to love something you can’t see. I understand, River, which is why I’m letting you go. So, don’t think about me anymore. Don’t waste another thought on me. You’re free, River. Go and make dreams with someone else…that you can hold. But know that every time I think of love, I’ll think of you.

Love always,

Brooke

My eyes burn. I feel the moisture building behind my eyelids, threatening to escape down my face. I can’t tell if I’m in awe or heartbroken over this letter I never got from the girl I’ve always loved. But I do know I’m glad I never got the chance to read these words back then. I’m glad I never had to hear her say good-bye . I’m thankful I always had that ounce of hope to hold onto. And while I didn’t get prom or that first date in my old truck with her, like I had hoped I would, I’ll gladly take the rest of this beautiful life with her.

“River.”

I shove the letter back into the envelope and the envelope into my back pocket.

“There you are.” She smiles her sweet smile and steps out onto the porch as I make my way over to her.

“I just got Moirae down…” She stops abruptly and looks out onto the black night, as if all of a sudden it just jumped right out in front of her. “Oh, the stars are so…”

“Pretty,” I finish.

She stares into my eyes and just smiles. And then she opens her mouth, but before she can get anything out, I wrap my arms around her, and I pull her close. “You are and will always be my dream come true.”

I hear her breathe out a happy sigh as her shoulders lift and then fall in my arms. “I love you too, Riv.”

I hold her then for longer than I usually do because there’s a part of me that just can’t believe how it all fell into place — how I’m standing here holding the only dream I ever had worth dreaming. True love has a habit of coming back.

I pull her body closer to me still, and at the same time, I catch two familiar stars hovering in the night sky. Immediately, my eyes go to finding the rest of them. It’s Aquarius. And somewhere I hear a quiet voice ask me if I see it.

Yes, Grandpa , I mouth. I see it .

Then my eye catches on a bright star in one corner of the constellation. The Star of Hidden Things . I smile. And right then, I know. I know what Grandpa had meant when he uttered those words while staring out his living room window those last days of his life — so many years ago. He meant that in life, there are no accidents, but instead, only things we cannot see, only hidden memories — later disguised and made to look as if they merely came to us…by way of accident.

There once was a river, who came upon a brook,

And with all his strength,

His current was no match for the brook