Louise and Emma had been best friends for over forty years. Back in college, they would stay up late studying together. Emmie, as Louise was fond of calling her, always had her nose in a book and her feet in Louise’s lap. Louise, on the other hand, preferred to stake her claim on the coffee table. Her textbooks lay splayed and opened, taking up every corner of the mahogany surface. She lost track of how many hours they passed this way, with their favorite Buddy Holly record serenading them through the night. The day they graduated, Emmie gave Louise a beautiful purple lei, and a small, embossed journal. Inside, Louise found a pressed orchid and a perfectly scripted note reading “Please treat me with care and fill me with beautiful thoughts.” She cried, and they gripped each other tightly.
But even after college, they weren’t quite ready to say goodbye. They found that adorable little apartment in Kaneohi. The first day they moved in, Emmie planted a small plumeria tree. The white kind, with the splash of yellow in the center of the petals. She said it was because it had always been her mother’s favorite, and Louise could see it in the way Emmie’s fingertips caressed each tiny bud. With a smile, Louise knocked on the kitchen window and called her in for breakfast. Emmie’s stomach growled at the scrambled eggs, and they laughed over buttered toast and easy conversation.
Not all of it had been easy though. It was the November after they graduated, and Louise’s father died. He had been feeling tired lately, but she hadn’t given it more than a passing thought. The call came at five in the morning, and her wail wrenched through the hallways. Emmie burst through the doorway and said nothing while she held out her arms. Anger was smeared across Louise’s face, and her lips pulled back in a snarl as a new howl emerged from her aching heart. But Emmie stayed regardless, and Louise’s face soon crumbled beneath the weight of her grief. At the funeral, Emmie brought over a dozen, handwoven leis. The tears welled up when Louise saw Emmie’s pin-pricked hands and exhausted eyes, and she clutched her tightly. Louise only hoped that her arms could convey what her heart could not bring her mouth to speak. A quick squeeze and a kiss was her only reply.
Now though, the pink has faded from their paper lips. As the monitors sing their ceaseless melody, Emmie sits at Louise’s bedside. Her trembling hands turn the pages of a much-worn novel as she reads to Louise in a small, halting voice.
The nurses startle Emmie from sleep, as they rush in with strange, strained roars and orders are belted out. One of them steers Emmie out, but not before the high-pitched screech reaches her ears. She crumples.
After the service, Emmie goes back to the apartment to sort through Louise’s things. Friends offer to help, but she turns them all away. Too often, she has to stop, till she can see again. Before she enters the bedroom, she leans on the doorway. For a few minutes, there is little to be heard, only the faint whisper of her breath. At last, she ventures inside.
Emmie eases herself onto the bed, curling up with one of Louise’s pillows— the huge, fluffy kind, the ones she always loved. Her eyes don’t well up this time, and she shuts them for just a moment. She inhales. Vanilla drifts up from the sheets, and it’s as if she can almost feel Louise’s arms around her once again.
She exhales and opens her eyes. The room seems cold, the walls stiff and lonely without their picture frames to keep them company. Emmie trudges over to the nightstand and begins to pull out its contents. Her chest aches and her hands tremble once more as she dusts off a cracked, brown book.
A thin hair ribbon holds it together, as countless pictures wedge themselves between the yellowing pages. The scrawl inside is as familiar to Emmie as her own, and she finds herself struck dumb by how many lines fill the journal. Though her eyes become weary and strained, she spends hours pouring through each scribbled word.
At times she laughs, and her skin crinkles in fond remembrance. Other times, her shoulders droop as the silence settles heavily upon her back. But the tears don’t fall until she comes to the last page. Here, a picture of her and Louise is stuck to the back cover. Emmie is laughing, and Louise is blushing but refusing to look away from her.
It’s an old picture, at least 20 years, from when they flew to Taiwan. It had been such an beautiful and exotic place, with so many sweet and kind people. That was their first trip outside of the country, and Emmie had always loved Louise for suggesting it.
Beneath the photo, Louise had written
Years ago, you told me to write down my beautiful thoughts, so I filled it with thoughts of you. Thank you for always treating me with care.
Emmie found herself caught between a smile and a choking heart. She clutched the book close to her chest, and fell asleep with the taste of vanilla on her tongue.
