Too Late~Lisa Callum

Too Late


I sat in my room most of the day Saturday looking at old pictures. People had always said she looked like me. I could see it now too. Except for her eyes, there was not one difference in our features. I flipped to a picture of her standing in the kitchen. It looked like she was holding a rolled up newspaper, but I couldn’t tell. I didn’t remember when that picture had been taken. The next one I recognized. It was a picture of Milly and I holding spoons on our noses. We had been in a pancake house during my “dork stage” as Milly had so happily called it. I was reluctant even to look at the thick glasses over my eyes and the brightly colored braces on my teeth. I closed the photo album and threw it to the side just as I heard the door open and looked up to see my mom in the doorway.
“I have good news, Lisa.” She said cheerily. I hoped this was a genuine smile. I couldn’t tell anymore with her.
“What?” I said. I tried my best to hide the photo album under the covers so she wouldn’t know what I had been doing. I didn’t know why I didn’t like people to know what I was doing, but it was just something that made me who I was.
“They’re having the Teen Game Night early this month. With all of the holidays coming up, they don’t want to mess up anyone’s schedule, so they’re having it this Friday.” She said. I smiled.
“This Friday? Are you sure?” I asked. She looked up from the laundry basket she was sorting through and nodded.
“Are you excited? You’ll get to see Niki. You haven’t talked to her in a while.” I reached down the floor and felt the outside pocket of my purse where I had put the note for safe keeping. I felt the thick square where the folded piece of paper lay, holding so much information in only a few sentences.
“Yeah.” I said. “I can’t wait.” I watched her sort through the clothes, fold them neatly and put them into my drawers. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. I can do it if you want me to.” My mom was not one to give up her pride easily.
“No, that’s fine. You just rest. I can handle it. It’s not that much.” It sounded as though she was talking to herself more than me. It almost sounded like she was reassuring herself. I felt sorry for her, but she wouldn’t let me help her. There was nothing I could do.
When she finished putting the clothes away, she turned to face me, still holding the laundry basket on her hip. “Do you want me to make you any lunch or anything?” She asked. She looked overworked as it was, and I didn’t want to burden her anymore.
“I’m fine.” I said. “If I get hungry, I can heat up something in the microwave.” She looked at me skeptically. “Go mom. I’ll be fine.” I said.
“Okay.” She agreed. “But if you need anything, just call me. I’ll be right down the hall, okay?” She said. I smiled.
“I will.” I watched her leave and shut the door behind her before I leaned over and reread Milly’s not to Tod. I was debating whether or not the give the note to Tod. What if it wasn’t what Milly wanted? I had no way of knowing what Milly wanted now. It was too late. I was immediately filled with regret. I hadn’t thought about what I had done when Milly was alive. There had been so many times when she had tried to help me, and I had turned to someone else. I didn’t listen to her, didn’t trust her, but she was always there for me, even when no one else was.
I hung my head, questioning how I could’ve possibly treated her like that after all she had tried to do. Why had I blocked her out? I knew I could trust her. I built wall after wall and every single one, she had tried her best to climb over. Finally I had built the wall too high. But even then, she had waited just outside, always waiting for me. And now, when I finally figured out that I needed her, she was gone. It was too late. I had waited too long to let her in, and now she wasn’t there to let in. But I knew what to do. I wouldn’t make the same mistake with Cassy. I saw now that she tried to understand. Everything I told her, she tried her best to understand. But if I felt like it wasn’t good enough, I blocked her out. But not anymore. I wouldn’t wait until it was too late again.