Canary Island Song

by Robin Jones Gunn

  “Tell me more about your life.” Carolyn lifted her head from his broad shoulder. “I don’t want to sit here in silence and worry about my mother.”

  Bryan talked more about his son, his job, and the vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle he was refurbishing. She noticed that he didn’t say anything about his stepsister or the tense situation he was in with her and the issues over the inheritance. Carolyn didn’t want to let him know how much she was aware of. It seemed better to wait and let Bryan tell her what he wanted her to know—when or if he wanted her to know it.

  He asked her more about her life in Fremont, and she stuck with the lighter topics such as her recent decorating project and a few of the things she still needed to get fixed. After an hour of waiting, Carolyn said, “I’m going to check on her. I’ll be right back.”

  She left the warmth of Bryan’s closeness and conversation and went to where they had left her mom in an examination bed. Going to her mother’s side, Carolyn took her cool hand in hers, and together they waited for the doctor to return. When he appeared, he offered Carolyn what looked like a sympathetic smile and explained the prognosis in Spanish. Carolyn didn’t understand, but she nodded, knowing her mother would tell her everything.

  As soon as the doctor exited, Carolyn asked, “What did he say? Did he find the problem?”

  Her mother didn’t answer. She had the look of a stubborn child.

  “Mom, dígame. Tell me. What did the doctor say?”

  “I have gas.”

  Carolyn squinted. “That’s what the doctor said? He said you have gas?”

  “Yes. Acute indigestion. He asked what I had been eating the past few days, starting with my birthday party, the fettuccine at lunch, and the dessert at dinner. He said I’m not used to so much rich food. I can go home and take the remedy he’s given me to settle my stomach. Tomorrow it’s nothing but tea, toast, and broth.”

  Carolyn was relieved, of course. But she knew her mother was embarrassed. This was much worse than if the diagnosis had required an overnight stay for further examination.

  “What would you like me to tell Bryan?”

  Her mother sighed. “The truth, I suppose. It’s always best to tell the truth.” She shook her head and muttered something in Spanish.

  “Don’t be flustered. You were obviously in a lot of pain. It was the right choice to make sure everything was okay. You have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “Would you like some help dressing?”

  “No, I’m fine.” She sat up, and a low rumble sounded from her midriff.

  Carolyn ducked out and returned to the waiting area. “It’s good news,” she told Bryan. “Nothing serious. Just some indigestion.”

  “That’s a relief.”

  “I’m sure she’s embarrassed that she asked to come here over something minor, but I told her I was glad we brought her. She’ll be ready to go in just a bit.”

  “I realized something while you were with her. We never paid for our dinner. We were in such a hurry to leave the restaurant that I didn’t think to ask for the check. I called them just now, and the person I spoke with asked that your mother call back and talk to the manager. Sorry about this. I was hoping they could take my credit card over the phone.”

  “You didn’t tell anyone she was in the hospital, did you?”

  “No. I got the impression your mother wouldn’t appreciate that.”

  “Why don’t I take your phone with me to the exam room, and my mom can call them now in case we need to stop by on our way home? How do I redial the last number called on your phone? This is way more sophisticated than the one I have.”

  Bryan showed her how to dial the restaurant, and she returned to the examination room where her mother was moving slowly. Her discomfort was obvious. She had her dress on but was slumped into the chair in the corner, appearing to have difficulty with her shoes.

  “Let me put those on for you.” Carolyn knelt down and lifted her mother’s feet one at a time, maneuvering the shoes on and clasping the side buckles. Before she got back up, she felt her mother’s hand on the crown of her head, as if in readiness to bestow a blessing on Carolyn.

  “Dios le bendiga, mi niña.”

  Carolyn smiled and received the words. For so many years she had put herself in a position of service to help other people any way she could. While she had received many thank-yous over the years, she didn’t remember ever feeling this sort of hand blessing.

  Rising to her feet, Carolyn smiled, and the two of them exchanged the sort of expression reserved in life for those you truly love, flaws and all, no matter what.

  “Mom, if you don’t mind, could you make a call before we leave here? Bryan realized we left the restaurant in such a hurry that we didn’t pay for dinner. He called them, and they wanted you to speak with the manager.” Carolyn pushed the button and handed the phone over to her mother.

  She perked up and spoke with more liveliness than Carolyn knew she was feeling at the moment. The call didn’t last long, but her mother was smiling when she handed back the phone. “It’s all taken care of.”

  “Will they take Bryan’s credit card over the phone?”

  “No. The dinner was a gift, he said. For my birthday. No charge.”

  “I’m telling you, Mom, you are finding ways to keep celebrating all week long. That’s great.”

  “I am a blessed woman.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Her mother’s stomach let out a low rumbling growl.

  “You are blessed, and you are about to belch, aren’t you?”

  Her mother held her hand over her mouth, swallowing a series of small hiccups.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I will be. We need to get me home.”

  When they arrived at the apartment building, Carolyn’s mother insisted that she didn’t need help to walk up to her place. Bryan honored her decision. “How about if I call in the morning, Carolyn? We can decide what to do about going to the airport for your daughter and my luggage.”

  “That sounds good. Thanks again, Bryan. For everything.”

  He smiled back and then leaned over to her mother in the passenger’s seat and brushed a kiss across her cheek.

  Carolyn helped her mom to the apartment, taking slow steps. Tonight they didn’t pause to examine the cactus or the night sky. Once inside, Carolyn filled a glass with water so her mother could take the medicine and went into the bedroom to turn down her mother’s side of the bed and put out her nightgown.

  Even though her mother was still in much discomfort and it was well after midnight, she had paused in the dining room, lit her evening candle, mouthed her benediction to the day, and blew out the light with a small puff and a hiccup. Carolyn covered the birdcage and closed the window halfway, as she had observed was her mother’s custom each night.

  By the time both of them were in bed and Carolyn was just about to drop off to sleep, her mother released a long, rolling belch.

  “Mother!” Carolyn laughed.

  A variety of gas-releasing sounds escaped from her mother’s petite body with unexpected volume.

  “Seriously!” Now Carolyn was sitting up and laughing. “What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?”

  “I feel much better, thank you.”

  The two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles.

  “I guess the medication is working.” Carolyn waved her hand in front of her nose. “It’s working so well, I think I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

  “I would if I were you.” Another hearty belch sounded.

  Carolyn cracked up. She reached for the pillow and took the folded-up blanket at the end of the bed. “Good night, Mom. If you need anything, call for me. But if you wake me up, it better be because you at least are having a gallbladder attack this time.”

  Her mother liked that one. She chuckled and hiccupped.

  Carolyn felt her way along the wall to the light switch and set herse
lf up on the couch. The confused bird called out a questioning chirp from under the cage blanket.

  “Don’t worry, Alma. I’ll turn off the light, and in two minutes all you’ll hear is me peacefully sleeping.”

  Her prediction was right, and it was the warming rays of the morning sun that touched her face and woke her six hours later. She tiptoed into her mother’s room to check on her.

  “Are you feeling better?”

  “Yes. Barriga llena, corazón contento.”

  “I remember that one. You just said, ‘Full belly, happy heart,’ right?”

  “Yes, I did. Your father used to repeat that saying whenever I made his mother’s meatballs, do you remember?”

  “I certainly do. I’m glad you’re improved. How about if I bring you some tea? That’s what the doctor recommended, right?”

  “Yes. See if I have any mint tea, will you, please? I’ll get up now, and we can have our breakfast together in the living room.”

  Carolyn was about to step out of the bedroom when her mother said, “Carolyn, what about you?”

  “I’ll make some tea and toast for me as well. I might have an egg or some yogurt.”

  “No, I am not asking about your belly. I am asking about your heart. Is your heart happy this morning?”

  Carolyn paused only a moment before she thoughtfully answered, “Yes. Yes it is. My heart is happy this morning.”

  “Good.”

  That was all her mother had to say on the subject. She didn’t elaborate on the intense conversation at dinner with Bryan or on the expectations of what might happen with him next. No hint was given that Carolyn should be looking forward to seeing Tikki that afternoon. Her mother’s assessment for the moment was simply, “Good.”

  The first part of the day was just as good as her proclamation. Bryan called and asked if they wanted to join him for lunch. Carolyn’s thoughts started to compare the invitation to the one Ellis had given Carolyn to meet him for “lunch” at the downtown hotel. She quickly told herself there was no comparison, and she believed it. Ellis and the world he belonged to were far away. The indecisive and insecure woman she had been with him was also far away. Carolyn felt as if she were stepping out of a thick fog into a place where she could at least see where to put her feet.

  Bryan told her on the phone that he had found a beachfront café where he had gone earlier that morning for breakfast. He said he wanted to take Carolyn and her mother there before going to the airport, if they were interested.

  Her mother waved off the invitation, saying she was under doctor’s orders. No food for her. She wanted to take the day to rest up before Tikki’s arrival. Carolyn agreed to take a taxi to meet him and asked the name of the café.

  “Al Macaroni.”

  Carolyn laughed. “You discovered my mother’s favorite sidewalk café. She took me there yesterday.”

  “Maybe that’s where I heard about this place.”

  “Remember the fresh calamari delivered to the front door?”

  “Oh, right. Yes, you were the one who told me about Al Macaroni. It’s great, isn’t it? But then you probably don’t want to go there again today.”

  “No, I’d love to.”

  “Okay, good. Would an hour be too soon for us to meet there?”

  “Make it an hour and a half, and it’s a deal.”

  Carolyn bounced in and out of the shower, rummaged through her limited selection of clean clothes, and determined that she absolutely had to go shopping tomorrow to buy something new to wear. Tikki would be with her, and the thought of them shopping together made her feel even more buoyant.

  Kissing her mother good-bye and grabbing everything she needed, Carolyn headed out the door and across the busy road like a pro. She flagged a taxi within the first three minutes and confidently gave him the information in Spanish. “La playa de Las Canteras, por favor.”

  She had the right amount of cab fare ready when she exited and thanked him in Spanish. With her old beach sandals on her feet and the ocean breeze in her hair, Carolyn walked with brisk steps down the crowded boardwalk to the café next to the statue of the fisherman’s wife who stood frozen in time, peering out to sea with her hands on her hips.

  Bryan was waiting at one of the tables under a shaggy grass umbrella. He stood when he saw her, and they greeted comfortably with a quick touch of their cheeks. Carolyn noticed right away that he had a phone earpiece in his left ear. Bryan motioned that he was on a call, and she mouthed the words, “I’ll order for us.”

  Bryan nodded and said something to the person on the phone about equity and resale value. She guessed this wasn’t one of his calls for work but rather it was counsel for the unsettled problem he had with his stepsister over the inheritance.

  The waiter appeared, the same man in the crisp white shirt and bow tie who had served Carolyn and her mother the day before. He handed her two menus, but she didn’t open them. With her newfound boldness after communicating with the taxi driver in Spanish, Carolyn ordered the same salad she and her mother had yesterday, gambones con ajo that her mother had mentioned last night at the restaurant, and a bottle of mineral water.

  As Bryan concluded his conversation, she looked out at the sand and the water, once again feeling that sense of timelessness here where life’s elements were at their most basic—sun, wind, sand, sea. She paused to wonder if Columbus had ever come to this exact bay and beach when he was on the island. What other explorers or pirates had left their footprints in this sand in this place of soft, dusty tenacity?

  “Sorry.” Bryan removed the phone earpiece. “I needed to stay on that call.”

  “Don’t worry. No te preocupes.” She grinned at her Spanish word-infusion. “I’m early.”

  Bryan checked his watch. “Yes, you are.”

  She noticed he was wearing the same Tommy Bahamas–style short-sleeved beach shirt he had worn to her mother’s birthday party. It definitely looked beachy by this point.

  “What did you order for us?”

  “A salad.”

  “Healthy. Nice.”

  “And hopefully I ordered the prawns with garlic. Or if I didn’t get my Spanish right, it could be something else.”

  “Like fish cheeks.” Brian kept a straight face.

  Carolyn grinned. “Yes, like squishy fish cheeks.”

  “Speaking of squishy fish cheeks, was your mom all right about your leaving her alone today?”

  Carolyn’s jaw dropped. She reached across the table and swatted at him.

  “What?” He looked innocent. It was an expression she recognized because he had mastered it long ago.

  “Why did you associate squishy fish cheeks with my mother?”

  “No! I didn’t mean she has squishy fish cheeks. When you said it, I thought of dinner last night and that made me think of your mom’s episode. I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  “Her ‘episode.’ I can’t believe you just said that.” Carolyn hid her grin. “Yes, she was fine with my leaving her today. And for the record, I didn’t say squishy fish cheeks first. You did.”

  The bottle of mineral water arrived, and Bryan did the honors of filling their two short glasses. He lifted his glass and said, “Truce?”

  “Truce.” Carolyn took a sip and kept an eye on him over the top of her glass.

  “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “You’re still you,” she said.

  “And you’re still you. Only a whole lot more beautiful than I even remembered.”

  Carolyn hadn’t expected his compliment on the heels of their bantering. She hid her smile with another sip of mineral water, but she couldn’t hide her happiness. It could be just one of his roguish lines of flattery or even a small joke. She didn’t care. It made her glad to be a woman and glad to be alive. It made her glad to be there, with Bryan.

  Just then the impressive salad arrived, a repeat of yesterday’s bountiful feast, and Bryan said, “Good choice. This looks great.” He reached across the tabl
e and covered Carolyn’s hand as she was about to pick up her fork. “Do you mind if we give thanks?”

  Carolyn couldn’t remember the last time she had paused to pray before a meal. She somberly bowed, feeling self-conscious as to what the mix of humanity gathered at the other tables might think of what they were doing.

  Bryan’s words of gratitude to “Our Heavenly Father” were as clean, true, and elemental as the sun, sand, and surf. It felt as if he was gently taking Carolyn by the hand and leading her back inside the mystery, into a place of vast, unexplainable life ruled by an untamable God.

  Upon his “amen,” Bryan released his warm hand, and Carolyn looked up. Her eye caught on the statue of the fisherman’s wife. That’s when Carolyn knew that Someone had been standing on the shore for a long time, staring into the ocean of her sorrow, scanning the horizon, and waiting for her to return.

  She had been out at sea far too long.

  “De tal palo, tal astilla.”

  “From such a stick, such a splinter.”

  THE REST OF Carolyn’s time at lunch with Bryan was as natural and enjoyable as if they were established friends who met at the same table every week for conversation sprinkled with charm. Carolyn was tempted to bring up the unexpectedness of their reconnection or comment on how easy it was for them to talk. She felt she should let him know how much she was enjoying their time together.

  But she didn’t want to spoil any of the easiness and spontaneity. She thought of all the times Tikki had told her about her “DTRs” over the years with the guys she had dated, including Matthew. Every time those conversations had taken a toll on the natural momentum of the relationship. Carolyn preferred to enjoy the moment and not try to figure out what it all meant or what was next.

  As they drove to the airport, Bryan opened up to her a little about the problem with his stepsister. “Do you remember Angelina?”

  “Yes. She was only five, I think, when I was here last time.”

  “That sounds about right. She and I are working out the details of her mother’s will. It looks like I might be staying here for a while. Did your mother tell you?”