Hello Beautiful

by Ann Napolitano

He had what felt like gaping holes to fill in his knowledge of how the world worked, and it appeared to him that history had the answers.

He divided his days between studying in the library, practicing on the basketball court, and attending classes. In each of these locations, he knew what to do.

Later, William would look back at this moment and know that this was when he fell for her. Or, more accurately, when his body fell for her.

His intelligence didn’t register in the form of strong opinions, though. He was interested in questions and uncertain in his answers; he was moldable.

Rose had tried to build a solid life, but Charlie had wandered away with, or kicked over, every stone she laid down.

It was because she loved him that Rose had been so disappointed by her marriage and why it was essential that her girls grow up strong and educated, able to stand on their own two feet, unbowed by something as tricky and undependable as love.

Sylvie closed her eyes, a book in her hands, so she could relive Ernie’s kiss. The people who called her easy, or a slut, were lazy thinkers.

He would see Sylvie, as if through a pane of clear glass, and not want to change any aspect of her.

The dream was now in the air, at risk of the elements, beyond her grasp.

William’s heartbeat slowed to a murmur in his chest, and he had to breathe in a funny way to keep from crying. He was surprised by how upset he was; it felt like something had broken inside him.

She might as well have said, My life was over when I became pregnant with you. Julia wasn’t offended, though, because her mother was seeing everything wrong.

That early impulse to follow her father, to imitate him, had built a fence between her and Rose.

“You’re too young to really understand that life is short, but it is. I didn’t want to stop you when you were walking away from something that didn’t matter to do something that did. You and I are cut from the same cloth, baby girl. Neither of us would expect school or work to fill us up. We look out the window, or into ourselves, for something more.”

He needed to be alone. He needed to wrestle his breath under control.

No matter how many minutes remained on the clock, there was no chance of victory.

No one wants to be near someone who’s that close to gone.

I thought I needed a husband, because that’s what we were told as little girls, right? Or maybe not told but shown. It didn’t occur to me that I might be better on my own. I was carrying him, Sylvie.”

She was grateful that her father had prepared her for this type of hard, lonely ground. Because of him, Sylvie knew she could exist outside the boundaries of her past and future selves, for a little while, anyway. Even though it hurt. She understood now, though, why her father had tempered the brutal beauty of this kind of life—this kind of honesty—with alcohol, and why she had always been more comfortable in the library with books than in the world with people.

There was only one person Sylvie felt fully herself with: William. She was all of herself with him and even felt there was room for her to become more. When he rested his eyes on her, it was without judgment or expectation, and in that space, Sylvie felt her potential: for bravery, brilliance, kindness, joy. All of these sails rested on the deck of her ship; they were hers, but she hadn’t seen them before. She hadn’t been aware of them prior to the many hours she’d spent in William’s hospital room. Her father’s love had said, Do everything. Be everything. She knew, when she was near William, that she had the capacity to raise these giant, beautiful sails and go.

He had married out of fear, because he didn’t think he was capable of steering himself into adulthood. He’d needed Julia to be his parent more than his partner. He was ashamed of this, but it was true.

“But really, as long as she doesn’t have his darkness,” Julia said, speaking her secret fear out loud, “I don’t mind what she looks like.”

“I didn’t want to love Josie,” Emeline said. She stared down into her coffee cup. “It was hard for me to accept the fact that we don’t choose who we love, because who you love changes everything.”

Alice needed to learn Julia’s specific issues so that she could compensate for them when the time came.

Sylvie also knew that her sister was right—she and William were nicer to each other than most couples. She watched William swallow his pills before breakfast and bed and watched his eyes search out hers in a room when he was beginning to feel overwhelmed. She found herself reaching for his hand at the same moment he reached for hers. William made her lunch every morning to bring to work, and she made sure their life stayed quiet at the edges, because he did best that way. He whispered, “I am so lucky,” most nights before they went to sleep, and she knew he was and she was too. Sylvie had almost missed this life with this man, and because of this near miss, she appreciated their moments together, even as they accumulated.

When she started high school, she was too tall to make slouching—which she’d mastered in middle school—an effective tactic to look “normal.”

You know the quote about how the only reason for time is so everything doesn’t happen at once? I feel like everything that’s ever happened in my life is happening inside me. I’m never bored anymore. I think about everyone and everything. I’m with you now, and you’re with me in here too.” She pointed at her head.

He’d always assumed openness was synonymous with danger

He’d known his wife was dying, but he hadn’t expected her to die.

“For a long time, Sylvie knew me better than I knew myself. I think sometimes”—now it was his turn to pause—“we need another pair of eyes. We need the people around us.”