here without you

68

I put down the letter. Once again I don't know what I feel. Happiness and sadness. Tears and a smile.

I couldn't save Olive, but maybe she is right. Maybe there was no way I could have. Maybe I did everything I could. And maybe that is okay.

I loved and still love my sister, and I know she loved me too. And I know that if there is a chance she's still out there somewhere, she still loves me, and I know she wants what is best for me. I know she wants me to be happy.

I'm just sitting there, on my bed, when the door to my room is slowly opened. My parents are standing in the doorway, tears and smiles on their faces too.

And then we're hugging, long and tightly.

_____

We are making pancakes. Christmas music is playing, reminding all of us of Olive. It hurts, but it's the good kind of pain.

I'm taking chocolate chips out of the cupboard when a memory of my sister runs through my head. I look at my parents and say, "Remember when Olive had the idea of trying to find out which one of us can eat the most pancakes?"

"Yes, I do," my mother says, smiling. "We all felt sick afterwards."

"And I won," my father says.

"Yeah, you did," I say. "But Olive would have almost beaten you."

"Yeah, she almost did," he says. "Mum was really close too. It was only you who was quite bad at it. How many did you manage again? Five?"

"It was six."

"Well, I managed to eat almost twice as much."

"I just wasn't as hungry as you guys - that's why I couldn't eat as many as you."

"Yeah, right."

"Besides," I say, "I feel like you guys gave me the bigger pancakes."

"Oh no, Roze, that was definitely not the case," my mother says.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, actually... Your sister made sure you got the smaller ones. She knew you wouldn't be the best at it." She gives me a smile; half amused, half apologetic.

"Which you really weren't," my father says. "I mean, six pancakes? Come on."

"Well, at least I won at eating the most waffles."

Their eyes find each other for a second, and I see small smiles appearing on both their faces.

"Wait... Did you guys let me win?"

"Maybe," my mother says.

My father shrugs. "It was Olive's idea," he says. "You were so sure in believing you'd win at eating the most pancakes, and then you didn't..." He shrugs again, then says, "We felt a bit bad for you."

For a moment I don't know what to say, then I say, "Well, let's play again. But this time without cheating."

"But then you'll lose again," my mother says.