I kept scrolling, letting the tears fall. There was a photo of Lauren holding Benny right after he was born, her smiling joyfully and him bundled up in a blanket with only his tiny face visible. I let out a small sob when I saw one she’d texted me one day of Ben sitting with Annalise at her play table for a tea party. She’d written that seeing her big husband sitting like that, his knees higher than the top of the table, made her want to jump him and make more babies immediately.
I wanted to talk to her so badly, even for a couple minutes. To hug her and ask her what I should do. I’d never be able to get advice from my best friend again, though. All I had were memories.
Memories, and also the letter the attorney had given me at the reading of the will, which I still hadn’t been able to bring myself to open.
My heart pounded hard as I stood up and went over to one of my suitcases, where the letter was tucked safely into a side pocket. As much as it hurt to know the last words Lauren would ever say to me were inside the white envelope I held in my shaking hands, I needed Lauren more right now than ever before.
I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and opened the sealed envelope, taking out the letter and sitting on the edge of the bed to read it.
* * *
Dear Hadley,
* * *
I hope you never have to read this. I hope someday, when we’re both in our nineties and living our best lives as roommates in a nursing home, I can tell you about this letter and we can laugh about it together. Over margaritas, of course, because we’ll still be living it up then.
This is so hard. I’ve been putting off writing this for so long because just thinking about it makes me cry. But I have to do it, so don’t mind the tear stains on the pages.
If you’re reading this, Ben and I are both dead. I usually cope with difficult conversations by using sarcasm, but this time, I’ve got nothing. Before Annalise was born, I would have had all the jokes. But now, the thought of her being alone in this world without her parents is too painful. It’s unimaginable.
Ben and I want you and Wes to raise our baby girl, and any other kids we might have. I know it’s a shock, and I’m sorry. We went back and forth a lot over whether we should ask you guys if you even want to do it, but we come back to the same decision every time—it has to be you guys. We can’t risk you guys trying to talk us out of it, because the next option is Ben’s parents, and we don’t want that.
If our babies can’t have me and Ben, we want them to have you guys. I know you and Wes don’t get along and you’re probably reeling as you read this, wondering how this could ever work. But it will, Hadley. It will. Ben and I know the two of you better than anyone.
You’re a lot like Ben. Practical and organized. Devoted, caring and hardworking. You’re also a nurturer, even though you probably don’t think so. You’re like me in that way, but mostly, I’m like Wes. I let the little stuff go. I love to laugh and I don’t take things too seriously unless I have to. I take chances. Like Ben and I, you and Wes balance each other out.
Maybe one of you is married by now. Maybe both of you are. Maybe you have kids of your own. I would actually love for my kids to have other kids to grow up with. Ben and I wanted to give you and Wes room to decide which of you would be best for the kids, if it comes to that. But as crazy as it sounds, my gut tells me you guys can find a way to do it together. It’s such a huge thing to ask of you both. But I’d do it for you, in a heartbeat, and Ben would do it for Wes. We love the two of you and you’re our family.
Don’t feel like you have to try to replace me. I want you to raise my kids because you’re you, not me. Love them your way. Don’t quit your job and take up organic gardening unless you truly want to. You are a wonderful role model exactly as you are. Don’t be too hard on Wes. He’s a great guy, and I hope you get a chance to see why Ben and I love him so much.
Read to my kids. There’s a box in the basement of all my favorite childhood books. Please read all of them with my babies and tell them how much those books meant to their mommy. Snuggle them often. Cheer them on and remind them that everyone makes mistakes. Just love them and try to help them know who their parents were and how much we love them.