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Twenty-five years later, it was still colder than she expected. Lottie Matthews woke up with a gasp on a table in the morgue. When she saw herself, not her own body, looking down or at a mirror, but her younger self, standing tall and beautiful in pink clothes straight out of a fairytale from a hundred years ago, she understood. She was waking up, just not in the usual sense. She was finally dead. It was time.
Although, in many ways, she had been waiting and even actively working to get there for twenty-five long years, it was difficult to let go of the immediate feeling of panic. She thought she would be a little more ready, she thought she’d had a little more time, she thought it would be different. Her bottom lip started trembling, and she looked around in a frenzy, hoping to catch sight of a sign that this was wrong, that maybe this was yet another cruel vision or harmless dream. But she knew herself and Its tricks a little too well by then. This was all real.
So, Lottie wondered, “Did I miss it?”
It was a relief, knowing that for once she didn’t have to explain herself. Because her own self stepped closer to her and comforted her with a gentle shush.
“We didn’t miss anything,” her younger self reassured her. It was enough to help Lottie breathe a little easier. Both of them, breathing in and out as one. But the younger self’s next question sent Lottie’s heart, or the illusion of it, into a frantic rhythm. “Do you remember what we promised?”
Was that a rhetorical question? If they were the same person, both of them had to know that she would never forget it, any of it. Was there a chance her younger self doubted her, or was she terrified of one day forgetting?
It was the strangest feeling, dealing with her own distress and feeling the impulse to reassure, well, herself. So, Lottie regained a little bit of calm and control. She nodded.
“It’s time to meet her,” said her teenage self.
The older version of Lottie didn’t miss the hint at a smile that passed over her lips before saying those words.
Lottie could hardly contain her excitement. Both of them. Her older self didn’t even know what to do, what to say, how to react. The teenager had to help her. That beautiful girl, wise beyond her years, reached for the plastic sheet still covering her adult self, and then she offered her a hand.
When Lottie stepped down from the table, she felt her white dress sweep down her legs and brush the floor. It was a familiar feeling.
Lottie was grateful for her other self holding her hand as they walked across the morgue. She wasn’t even sure to which one of them belonged that thought. Both of them, she thought. Maybe there wouldn’t be two of them for much longer.
When they walked around a corner, they found themself out of that awful place entirely, and in a different, familiar, and still terrible hallway. The older one of them hesitated, but the younger one was persistent, perhaps even a little impatient. But after one more corner, when they saw the hundreds of candles lining the walls of the dark and damp hallway, they started walking at the same pace.
Younger Lottie let go of her hand when they reached the stairs, but she followed close behind as her older one climbed slowly, mindful of her long white dress, but with a confidence that could only come from the profound knowledge of having been there before.
When Lottie reached the top, she was breathless, but not from the physical effort, but from the awe of seeing the light of all those candles and knowing exactly what everything meant.
“Do you remember the first time you were here?” Lottie’s younger self asked.
She sounded so calm. She used to sound so soft and gentle and serene. As an adult, even when she had dozens of acolytes eating from the palm of her hand, maybe even literally, she always had a feeling that they could hear the ever-present fear in her voice, a slight tremble that this teenage girl somehow was missing.
“Yes,” Lottie, the older one, whispered in response. That aforementioned shudder in her voice was still present. “I was with-”
Lottie turned around as she spoke, and found that in the blink of an eye, the hallway and its hundred candles disappeared completely. It was like waking up again, gasping for breath, as if coming out from underwater. That, too, was excruciatingly familiar. And not entirely inaccurate, because they were right there.
They were back at the lake, that lake, their lake, close enough to the shore to feel the very gentle sway of the water lapping at the hem of her dress and the soles of her feet. Her teenage self was still with her, a step ahead and smiling at her nervously again. This time, she was eager to watch her older self’s reaction. And she wasn’t disappointed.
Just when the older one of them got used to the bright light of the wilderness’ generous summer, she looked beyond her younger self, and there she saw her.
Her angel, her best friend, the first person to ever believe in her, the only one who didn’t ever turn against her, her salvation, and everything she ever hoped to find at the end of her journey. Laura Lee.
One look at her and Lottie’s eyes filled with tears. Both Lotties.
Laura Lee was beautiful and untouched by the passing of time. She stood on the shore wearing the last clothes Lottie ever saw her wearing. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she swayed a little on her feet. Her smile teetered on the verge of nervousness and the kind of playful little grin that she rarely let anyone see.
“It took you some time to keep your promise,” Laura Lee said, and immediately blushed, her smile wavered, as she second-guessed her joke.
But, before the older Lottie could react, or even accept the full reality of her situation, her younger self laughed. Lottie laughed her most sincere, joyful, free, and emotional laugh. She grinned like a teenage girl that never experienced any darkness in her life, but she ran toward Laura Lee as if only her light could save her from those shadows she never could quite escape.
The two girls embraced tightly, without the smallest intention of downplaying how desperately they needed each other. Laura Lee was on her tiptoes, and briefly swept off the ground entirely. She wrapped her arms around Lottie’s shoulders, and pressed her face to her neck. If they had to wait twenty-five years for that hug, they would make it last as long as both their hearts needed it to.
Eventually, and reluctantly, and let go of each other, but didn’t allow each other to get very far. Lottie kept her arms wrapped around Laura Lee’s body, keeping her as close to her as possible. Laura Lee did untangle her arms from Lottie’s shoulders, just so she could cradle Lottie’s face in her hands. She held her as if she were the most fragile and precious thing in the world, as if only she could protect her and keep her safe, even while knowing that nothing could ever hurt her again.
Lottie leaned in first, and her adult counterpart didn’t have to see her at that moment to guess the deer-in-the-headlights look on her face that she’d seen in the mirror countless times before. Hesitation. Afraid to ask for too much. Terrified of getting what she always wanted. Luckily for her, Laura Lee offered her one more beatific smile before enthusiastically closing the rest of the distance between them and finally, finally kissing her.
Lottie’s older self widened her eyes and then quickly looked away. A small smile took over her lips. She was amused by her own impulse to give them some space, and deeply endeared by what she’d glimpsed. She couldn’t deny the lump in her throat. This felt so right. It felt like a culmination of sorts. She hadn’t even known how badly she’d yearned for this “Welcome home” kiss.
The lines that separated an older and younger version of Lottie started to blur as the feeling of freedom increased. The oldest of them felt her own lips tingle as if she too could taste Laura Lee’s kiss. Just then, she heard some movement, and looked up to watch herself begrudgingly let go of the love of their life and let Laura Lee approach the other half of her.
“Hi, Lottie,” Laura Lee said, very softly, politely, as if she were meeting her all over again.
“Oh, look at you,” Lottie couldn’t help but say. She was in awe. “You’re just as I remembered you. Can I…”
They walked a little closer to each other, and Laura Lee’s unwavering smile, contrasting with the way Lottie felt her entire body and soul tremble in front of her, was all the permission she needed. Lottie reached out, and this time she was the one cradling Laura Lee’s face between the palms of her hands. At first, she barely grazed her skin, terrified beyond measure to have her disappear, like many times before, from underneath her fingertips. But she cried and she laughed and she gasped when Laura Lee’s hand moved up to press Lottie’s palm to her face. Her head leaned into Lottie’s hand. She was real . Warm and soft and undeniable. Something different than alive, but it couldn’t be called death. To Lottie, in that place, they were both as alive as they could be. And, when Lottie’s thumb brushed against Laura Lee’s skin, even the young girl’s eyes filled with fresh tears.
“You’re…” Laura Lee said, briefly looked away, and then, in her very particular style of courage, looked Lottie in the eye when she confessed, “You’re even more beautiful than I dreamed you would be.”
Lottie couldn’t hold back the warm and fond laugh that escaped her. even through the tears. Her chest felt so warm and so tender, full of love and the familiar pain of realizing Laura Lee had been so young . She was just a girl, a child. She was looking up at Lottie in her adult age as if she was the most unbelievable miracle she could imagine, as if she really were the saint she once made her out to be.
So, Lottie leaned in, and she pressed the gentlest kiss on Laura Lee’s forehead, right over the spot where they shared a matching scar.
“I missed you,” Lottie whispered, with her lips still brushing Laura Lee’s skin.
Their eyes were still closed. She pulled back slowly and let go of Laura Lee, who suddenly looked a little lost without Lottie’s hands holding her in place, but Lottie needed to wipe away her tears if she wanted to say at least an ounce of everything she’d felt for the last twenty-five years.
“I missed you, and I loved you, every single day of my life,” Lottie said, meeting Laura Lee’s eyes and hoping she was conveying how deeply she meant every word, how profoundly her love and her aching for Laura Lee had marked every second of her life since their separation. “You know I never wanted to leave you.”
But Laura Lee shook her head softly, and even though she was also delicately wiping away her own tears, she looked so serious for a moment, so grown up. For a flashing moment, Lottie had a vision of how the love of her life would've looked twenty, thirty, fifty years older. She would have been gorgeous, the kindest goddess of Lottie’s life, and they would’ve been very happy together.
Laura Lee’s voice brought her back to their very particular reality.
“I’m glad you left,” Laura Lee said, with great confidence, which didn’t exactly continue into her next words. “I hope it wasn’t all bad out there,” she added, making it sound like a question, and a tentative one at that, as if she feared the answer. But Lottie couldn’t let her be afraid ever again.
“No, it wasn’t all bad,” Lottie answered with an easy smile. She was suddenly standing up taller, straighter, her hands clasped comfortably in front of her. She looked and felt like herself, the best version of herself. She looked down at Laura Lee with immense love and serenity. “There were good moments, and I believe I shared some of that with people who needed it. Like you would’ve done. I got to live so much more than I thought I would. We all got to live a little longer because of you, Laura Lee, and it was a good thing. I can see that now, and I hope you know that.”
The illusion of an older and wiser Laura Lee was gone, and once more, she was the young girl who was too brave and too full of faith and sacrificed herself without hesitation for her friends. Her bottom lip trembled, and she didn’t stop herself from just throwing herself toward Lottie and hugging her tightly. Her arms wrapped around Lottie’s middle, and Lottie cradled her against her body with all the love she was capable of. Laura Lee’s faith in her got her this far. The young girl in her arms was the most precious thing in Lottie’s world.
They held each other for as long as they could, whispering to each other all the thousands of words that they prepared for twenty-five years that felt like an eternity.
When Laura Lee was finally able to let her go and take just a couple of steps backward, she saw that there was only one Lottie Matthews standing there next to her.
“Hey,” Lottie’s younger version smiled at her.
It was a bittersweet smile, of course. Moving on wasn’t easy, and letting go of a part of herself was bound to be difficult. But she wasn’t afraid, because for the first time in her life, Lottie was confident that she would never have to be alone again.
“Are you ready?” Laura Lee asked her.
They turned around to face the woods ahead of them, and Laura Lee offered Lottie a hand, which Lottie accepted eagerly.
“I’ll follow you,” Lottie promised. Again.