The Beach House

DALLAS’ POV
Count forward two years: Amber and I had been living in the same New York apartment since she came. Tang had been gracious enough to give us quite a hunk of money for a more than decent place. Amber was working at Starbuck’s (“That’s what I know how to do,” she’d said) as assistant manager. I was working in a vintage record store in Brooklyn. The combination of the jobs brought in a lot more money than expected.
The two of us still called back to California. The two of us talked to Kimmy and Kayvan every week. I kept close with Gramps, and Amber with Tang. I did miss home-- the beach, the dock, my friends. But now, this was home. It was harder some days than others, but in the long run, it was worth it.
Our apartment had four bedrooms. One for me, one for Amber, and one as an office. Amber’s room was a bit crammed with her current projects, but we covered the crappy walls (the only downside to the place) with her art. Nothing from Home Depot could top that.
I went to the den one day and closed the door tight behind me. The bottom drawer of my desk was locked, and I bent the tumblers to my will with my key. It was the biggest drawer in the desk, but the only item that sit inside was a slowly yellowing envelope.
I pulled it out, remembering the day Amber and I had gotten it. One of the most eventful says-- tied with another-- in our NYC history. I felt like revisiting it. So I pulled out the letter, and read the words that I had practically memorized.
^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
My dearest Dallas and Amber,
If you’re reading this, I’m shocked. The fact that you would even give half a damn to anything I have to say is nothing short of a miracle. It makes you more amazing than I knew you were. And I hope you’ll read to the end.
First off, I will try to apologize. It’s probably worthless to you now, but it’s important to me to be able to tell you. I want you both to know how terrible I feel for ruining a special part of your friendship--trust-- as well as hurting, manipulating, and lying to you both. Nothing I can say can make that forgivable.
Dallas, do you remember that nickname you had for me? Well I’ve come to see how it’s more than true, in both positive and negative ways.
For the negative: At the start of this summer I was snobby, spoiled, ignorant, and shallow. But of course you both know that. I thought I was so invincible. “I’m rich, I’m hot, and I get what I want.”
I’m shocked no one punched me. I wish someone would have.
Now for the positive spectrum: I am rich. In love and luck. I may have people that love me now. But the love I was granted by the two of you is irreplaceable. Thank you.
I’d best cut to the chase.
This morning, I went to see my doctor. And I learned how much har, my drinking has caused me. My liver is severely damaged. It could possibly be repaired by surgery, but there are further more complications for me, more than the danger of a liver transplant. It’s highly unlikely that if a transplant were possible that my body would even accept a new liver. Worst case scenario… I have six months to live. With careful actions I may be able to buy time. And my complication requires me to live longer.
I need to live three months longer than expected. What may be a burden to some is my beautiful stroke of luck.
Dallas, you’re a father.
I swear to cheat death long enough. I write this to ask that, when I go, the two of you would take care of the baby. You may say no. In that case the baby will stay in my parents care. But (not to guilt trip), I personally think a baby needs their father. I know the two of you will be able to raise a child just as wonderful as you.
Lastly, I want to thank you. You’ve helped me see how the world really is. Far beyond money and self pity and selfishness.
Amber… you’ve changed me into such a different seashell. And now I can see that as you do. Using or hurting anyone is a deeper sin than anything in this world. Stealing that kind of purity is capital and then some.
Dallas… you taught me about myself. Into the darkest corners of my existence that I didn’t even know about. Helping me find the real humanity that I should’ve been living all along.
I am sorry beyond description. And I will love you both forever.
Sincerely yours in life and death,
Josey Marie Westin

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
I folded the letter up and returned it to it’s proper place in the desk drawer, locking it up again. Leaning back to relflect, I remembered the last time Amber and I had seen Josey.
^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
Gramps had called me about Josey’s condition. Worsening. Amber and I flew to California for our last goodbye. And something even more important than that.
When we walked into the hospital room, everyone was there. Kimmy, Kayvan, Tang, Gramps, and the Westins. Everyone looked pale and exhausted and grief-striken.
“Guys,” Kimmy said. “Would you like to be alone with Josey for a while?” Amber and I nodded.
Everyone stood and left the room, shutting the door. That was when I got a good look at Josey.
She was literally skin and bone. Her eyes were yellow where they should’ve been white, and they were sunken into her face as if they had been pushed back. Her breaths were labored and horse. She had had the baby two months beforehand, and now her stomach was thinner than her rib cage.
She turned to look at us and I nearly burst into tears. The girl who had once been my beautiful Josey was now a skeleton. Of course I still loved her! As terrible as she had acted, it felt like a chunk of my heart was missing without her.
“You guys,” she wheezed, smiling like it took all her strength. “You came.”
Amber and I sat across from each other, one on each bedside. Amber was staring at her feet, her hair like a curtain, her body shaking. Obviuosly crying. Josey put her hand out in comfort and Amber placed hers over it. Amber flinched at the feeling of what “seemed to be only bone” , she told me later.
“God, Josey,” Amber sniffed. “I had no idea it was this serious.”
“It doesn’t even matter to me,” Josey said.
I was stunned. “How can you even say that?”
She gasped in a few breaths before speaking. “When it’s time to go… it’s time to go. Why mourn, you know? This is a happy thing.”
I could hardly hear her speak. She was so silent compared to the drowning sound of her heart monitor.
“Josey,” I said as I tried not to cry. “We came to tell you something very important.” I couldn’t go on. I looked down and tears spilled.
Amber took over. “We both had to tell you… we love you. And we forgive you. What the three of us did…”
“We all betrayed each other,” I said. “And we’re really hoping…”
“That you can forgive us too,” Amber sobbed.
It was quiet with only pulsing beeps. “If you can forgive me… for what I’ve done… I would go to hell… if I didn’t forgive you.”
She had no energy, yet she cried. We all did for a moment. Then Josey looked at me, her yellow eyes barely open.
“Dallas,” she said. “Please… please take care… of our baby. She is so… beautiful… and she needs… you.”
I put my hand over the one of hers close to me. It really was like bone. With cold skin around it.
“Of course I will, Josey.”
She smiled. “And… both of you… take care… of each other.”
“We promise we will,” Amber said.
“I… love… you… both.” Then Josey’s eyes closed, as she ran out of energy, and drifted of to sleep.
^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^
One year, three months, and seventeen days after Amber and I the letter had come, Josey died. We went to her funeral and had a good cry. But Amber and I knew that she was happier. She was watching over us now. We had all made peace.
When the funeral party had drifted from the grave before the dirt was poured in, Amber and I stuck around. Each of us threw a seashell into her grave.
Not a day went by that Amber and I didn’t miss her. But like I said, we had made peace. I think that helped us keep our heads.
One of Amber’s paintings was hung over the fireplace. Probably the most important one to the both of us. It was from a picture she’d taken of Josey two years before. While Josey slept silently on Amber’s old mattress with the Emily the Strange sheets. You would think the thought of that would upset me. But being able to see Josey’s face every day wiped away every negative feeling I could’ve had.
“Dallas!” Amber called. I broke from my reverie. “Need you!” headed to the sound of her voice in the living room.
“Tang’s calling, and Rebekah’s on her way up with some take out,” she said. “Time for you to take care of your daughter.” She winked at me and disappeared into the kitchen.
I sat in the middle of the living room floor in front of the cradle swing (a gift from Kimmy), gazing at the little smiling face inside. The most important day tied with the letter. The second positive part of our California hospital visit.
Amelia Chase Westin.
My mother’s name, my father’s name, and (no duh) Josey’s last name.
And she was the most gorgeous child in existence.
A knock came on the apartment door. I got up quick to answer, passing the kitchen to hear Amber mumbling into the phone.
The door opened and I was blasted with the smells of chicken stir fry and perfume.
“Hi, honey.” Rebekah gave me a quick peck on the cheek and went to put down the bags in the kitchen.
It had taken me a while to date since Josey died. But Rebekah was angelic. She understood I had a past, and respected the privacy of it. She loved Amelia and vice versa. She knew there was zero romantic interest between Amber and me (in fact the two of them were close friends).
It was amazing how life had turned in two years.
I still heard about seashells from Amber. She still had her trunk-full. But now, for the first time since I’d met Amber, I finally understood the Seashell Concept.
Josey had once been a seashell to me. In memory she still was. But some seashells don’t last forever. Physically. Josey had died and taken a piece of my heart with her. She would live with me forever.
Now I had Rebekah and Amelia and Amber. Every seashell in the world, no matter how beautiful, could ever replace them. We were a family. The closest family any of us have. (Tonight I want to bring this family even closer, and ask Rebekah to marry me.) They loved me, and I loved them.
Here’s the important part of the Seashell Concept:
We are all fragile. We are all irreplaceable. We are all different and unique. Like seashells.
Rebekah summoned me to dinner. I put Amelia in her high chair and the three of us started to eat. My mind was still trapped in all the thoughts. Rebekah noticed.
“It’s the anniversary of Josey’s death today,” she said, “Isn’t it?” I nodded solemnly.
“I know how much Josey meant to you, Dallas. But you know she’s always with you. That’s why you have this little blessing.” She tweaked Amelia’s nose and made her giggle. “So you always have a piece of her.”
“Josey never deserved to die,” I said. “Especially the way she did.”
“Josey’s happier now, honey. You know that. I’ll bet she’s so happy to be able to see all of you that she doesn’t even think of the pain of her death.”
“I hope so,” I said.
“Baby, I know you’re not religious,” Rebekah said, “But would you like to say a little prayer for Josey?”
I smiled and nodded. Rebekah, Amelia, and I joined hands.
“Josey,” I said. “We all miss you immensely. And we love you. I just hope to God that you’re happy, wherever you are…Amen.”
Short and sweet, I guess. Rebekah patted my hand.
The three of us ate in silence a moment longer before a miracle happened.
“Josey lubs you,” Amelia said.
We froze. Amelia’s first word had been “Josey.”
“Holy hell.” We turned to see Amber in the doorway, phone (off) in her hand, wide eyed. “She said…”
“I know,” I said.
“But, Dallas,” she turned to face me. “You’ll never guess what Tang just told me.”
“No, I probably won’t,” I said through a mouthful of fried rice.
“It’s for sale,” Amber said quietly.
“What’s for sale?”
“The beach house.”