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“I wish Mom were here,” she choked out, grabbing a tissue from the box on the nearby table.
“Ahh, my Lou-Lou,” her dad said, taking her into his arms and patting her back. “I’ve been thinking about her, too, today. She was so proud of you girls, but she worried as mothers do.”
“Most of the time, I can deal with Mom being gone but sometimes,” she sniffed., “there’s a hole in my heart that can’t be filled by anyone else. Today’s one of those days, Dad.”
Her dad pulled away to look at her. “She had an incredible intuition, your mother. She could often predict things before they would happen. And she was especially sensitive to you girls. I suppose that’s how she thought to give you this.” Her dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny silver jewelry box and folded it into Lillian’s palm.
“What…what is this?”
“I don’t know. Your mother didn’t tell me. Hannah and I found it when we cleaned out her dresser after her death. You were in Boston by then. The box was sealed, but there was a note attached with your name that said it was meant for your birthday. You left before we got to celebrate it, remember? I had planned to give it to you when you came home, but with Hannah being so ill at the time, it escaped my mind. I thought today might be an appropriate occasion.”
Lillian stared at the shiny silver box, her hands trembling. A whisper of power hit her hard—her mother’s energy. She’d know it anywhere.
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
Lillian sucked in a breath, her fingers tingling. She broke the seal and opened the lid, letting out a gasp. A tiny silver angel with a shiny halo encrusted with sparkling diamonds on a delicate chain glittered at her. She reached in with shaking fingers to touch it, absorbing the last remnants of her mom’s spirit in the process. Underneath the necklace lay a folded letter.
Still clutching the necklace, she somehow managed to pull out the letter and open it without tearing the paper. She sat on the couch and smoothed the wrinkles so she could read what was written. Her mom’s familiar hand jumped out at her, and Lillian’s pulse leaped madly as she read.
My Dearest Lily,
In a few days, I will be leaving. I won’t be here to celebrate your twenty-fifth birthday next month. It saddens me to miss it. I will ask your dad to give you this gift and will plan to celebrate with you when I return.
Although I feel bad about missing your birthday, it helps to know you want me to make the trip. How like you to be more concerned for others than yourself! I will be able to use my gift to help so many, and in that light, the time away from you is a small sacrifice we must make.
I thought about giving this gift to you before I leave, but you are working overtime right now, putting in long exhausting hours in the ER. Your patients and their families love you for it, but they don’t understand the toll using your ability has on your spirit as I do.
I am so proud of you, Lily, but I’m afraid for you, too. You feel responsible for those who suffer. You continually put their needs before your own, and it worries me. The life of a healer can be lonely. You are always the strong one, always the dependable one, always the one everyone leans on. But there will come a day when you will not be able to cure someone you love, when you will try your hardest to use your talent and fail, when you can no longer be the strong one and stand alone.
I have enclosed the angel necklace to remind you I am always here for you. You are never alone. Please come to me any time you are feeling afraid or lonely or need a listening ear.
I hope one day you find your Prince Charming. The greatest happiness I have known has been with your dad, and the family we’ve created.
Happiest of birthdays, my sweet Lily. Be brave and kind and trust your instincts always.
I love you,
Mom
The tears were dropping on the paper, smearing the ink, and Lillian set the letter aside.
“Are those tears of happiness, I hope?” her father asked, handing her a tissue. “Would you like to wear the necklace?”
She nodded and dabbed at her eyes, standing and turning so her dad could fasten the clasp around her neck. She fingered the glittering angel, her mother’s presence filling the room.
“Your mother understood you, Lou-Lou. She only ever wanted to see you happy. I think her wish has come true.”
“Yes,” Lillian said. “Yes, it has.”
“Are you ready, then?” Her dad offered an arm, and Lillian looped hers through.
“I am.”
They walked from the dressing room, through the hall, and into the back of the old historic church in her hometown where she was to be married. Hannah signaled the musicians and began her march down the aisle, following little Annie Logan, who had agreed to be Lillian’s flower girl. Then, Lillian and her dad began the long walk.
Tristan’s mom and a small group of cousins and aunts and uncles and friends turned to look. Lillian managed to stay calm by fixing her gaze on Tristan, who stood tall and handsome in his black tuxedo, the familiar wave in his dark hair.
And then they reached his side, and her dad was placing her arm in Tristan’s. Her skin tingled, her heart pounded, and she was bolstered by Tristan’s strength and the love shining from his dark-blue eyes.
