by Elle Chance
“I hope they felt clearer. There’s a lot I think I could do differently if things were better with my father.”
Rocco nodded thoughtfully. “I met my next girlfriend right after everything got better with my mom. She wants to come visit here sometime, actually. Maybe this Christmas will be too soon. But you can always come back some other time.”
“Is your mom doing okay?”
“Oh yeah, if you get treatment for a stroke in like three hours you’re good. At least that’s what her doctor’s said and so far it’s been true.” Rocco put a hand on my shoulder. “I know this doesn’t always help to hear when you’re going through it. But health stuff can really help you figure out what you want. There may be some blessing here somewhere. But you don’t have to feel it immediately either.”
It was the most I’d heard from Rocco that wasn’t about cars, safety, or wizards in a while. “Thanks, Rocco.”
We sat for a while longer. We chatted before making our way back down Main Street and up the hill together to the Lodge.
When I got back to my room, I sat in a chair in the sitting area for a long moment. I couldn’t imagine rallying to crawl to Josh until I knew what was going on with my father. If it healed him, then I figured I should reach out before I went to the city. If my father needs more treatment, god forbid, I had a little longer to rekindle things with Josh.
I may move slower than an action hero, but I still felt better with a plan. Even one that felt like it could crumble or move back to New York City without saying a word to me.
JOSH
THE FIRST TIME Mark Barlow reached out to me was during the last week of his treatment. I thought I was dreaming. He’d sent a car from who knows where to come retrieve me from where Cory had set me on helping to reupholster chairs out in the old stables.
“Mark Barlow has requested your presence,” the driver said.
“Oh, yeah? Does he need help to get into his coffin?” I asked. I wiped at the sweat that was getting dangerously near to my brow.
“He didn’t tell me why.” Mark’s driver had a friendly, wide Irish face and a curl of red hair against his brow under an honest to god driving cap. He seemed cheerful even while he threatened me. “But he paid me a lot of money to ask you all day.”
The thought of getting out of the stables and not lug around cloth all day was too tempting for me. That and curiosity about what Mark Barlow wanted. “Well, I have nothing better to do, obviously.”
“Seriously, Chase?”
I waved to the contractor. “Sorry, man, I’m being paid in room and board right now. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
I was at Mark Barlow’s hospital suite way quicker than should have been strictly legal, from a speeding perspective. And it turned out all Mark wanted was some company.
“I’ll pay you a thousand dollars per day,” he’d said, looking tired and finally bedbound.
“Yeah, that works for me. But no cigars, I’m serious. And I don’t want to be here when Sofie gets back.”
Mark had looked melancholy. “She’s still not speaking to you? I didn’t intend to ruin a good thing.”
“We can add that as a line to the obit.”
But instead of obituary planning or self-flagellation, we mostly just watched tv. Our conversations were light.
I forever wanted to ask Mark about the will, or try to find out more about his treatment. But I knew this was the time to let Mark set the pace. And I couldn’t object to more easy money from a Barlow family member.
So I got into a rhythm. I’d wake up early and spent the mornings with Mark until he got tired and fell asleep. I’d head back to my indentured servitude at the Lodge, while Sofie would post up at her father’s bedside for the afternoon. I liked the illusion of closeness and still was far overpaid for my time. As usual with the Barlows.
Friday, and finally finding out how Mark was doing, marched ever closer. Halloween decorations were rampant. I got dragged into helping decorate the Lodge for the occasion. I’d even be telling up a souped-up spooky story on a tour in a couple weeks, so I wasn’t leaving town soon.
That morning, I walked into Mark’s suite only to hear the entire Barlow Clan, instead of just Mark. I froze at the sight of Rocco and Patty.
“Hey, Josh,” Patty said, looking pleased to see me. “Fancy seeing you around here.”
“Looks like our schedules got mixed up.”
I was about to turn tail and run when Mark’s voice from the other room called to me. “You’re late, Joshua.”
I spent a half-second debating if I could just take the loss of the week before curiosity won out. “As always,” I called out, decisively putting away my coat and heading into the room.
“Good luck,” Patty told me as I headed into the room.
Sofie looked radiant. Which is probably the wrong thing to think today. It should have been all about Mark. I was a monster. But a monster whose ex-boss was wearing a soft blue cashmere sweater and jeans with her hair up at her father’s bedside. She looked… accessible.
Tom and Lou looked like automatons as usual.
“Glad to see you guys,” I told them. “All of you.”
Mark smiled when he saw me. “Excellent, everyone’s here. The doctor should be here in 15 minutes. I got my scan in late yesterday and we have prioritized everything.”
Sofie froze looking at me like a deer in headlights, but she came back to herself at that. “As you deserve, Dad.” She was holding his hand.
“But before we find out the news, I want to make one thing clear. It’s time for there to be some changes in this family. Too long I’ve tried to make you strong by being hard on you.”
Lou shifted uncomfortably. “Dad, it’s fine—”
“No, it’s not,” Mark said, starting to get his thunder back even in the face of his treatments. “Josh and I prepared something that I want us all to keep in mind no matter what the outcome today. No matter how much time I have left with you, I want them to be good days.”
And then, horrifyingly, Mark pulled out the obituary. He’d asked me to give it to him after Sofie had stormed off when she found us writing it. She recoiled from him at the bedside.
“I asked Josh to help me write a little advertising copy since he’s so good at it.” Mark unfolded the paper carefully, hands a little shaky. “It’s about how I’d like to be remembered.” Tom and Sofie cut in, trying to stop him, but he waved them off. “I know it’s unpleasant to think about, but legacies are a part of life. Josh, would you do the honors?”
I looked at Sofie wide-eyed. I had pissed her off by writing this, and I could see that I’d probably lose her by reading it now in front of his family. But I hoped, ridiculously, that this might redeem me a bit in her eyes. I took the paper from Mark and cleared my throat before reading by his bedside.
“Mark Barlow died today a failure.”
“Seriously, Father?” Tom said, trying to stem me from continuing.
“Let the boy go on,” Mark replied, his icy eyes pinning Tom into listening.
Only Sofie was looking at me when I continued speaking. “He was a success by many measures: financially, as a businessman and traveler, and as a husband. And yet he failed his children.”
I looked up at Tom, Lou, and Sofie, who were all looking toward their father. This was going better than I’d hoped, but none of them seemed clear on where this was going.
I continued. “Barlow was hard to talk to and be around until a crisis of faith prompted a cancer diagnosis. His health inspired him to hold his loved ones closer. It took more than simple apologies for lost time. Barlow is proud to say that against his litany of failures, he proudly and imperfectly made amends and built his family back into the center of his life.”
I got a little choked up here and took a steadying breath before finishing in a rush.
“At the time of his death, Barlow considered true success to require consideration for fellow man. It requires thought about how you spend your days. Barlow’s life
is lined with failures on this principle. Yet his final days he pushed towards the betterment of himself and his relationships with his loved ones.”
Mark’s eyes were teary as I finished the letter. “No matter how this turns out, I want each of you to know I love you very much. I spent much of your lives trying to harden you so the world wouldn’t grind you to nothing.” He looked to Sofie, to Lou and Tom at the end of the bed. “I couldn’t see I was my sort of mortar and pestle along the way.”
Lou and Tom looked less emotional. But I watched Sofie, who had tears streaming down her face. Her hand was still on her father’s, but she was looking at me with a softness I hadn’t seen from her since before the news she was out here broke. It may have been foolishly hopeful, but I thought with the way she was looking at me I might not lose all hope.
“That’s what you two were working on?” Sofie asked. She accepted a tissue from Cheryl to clean up her face but still didn’t pull away from her father.
“It was. I thought it was a time when I couldn’t pull your brothers away for a day to hear the news about my health.” Mark told them stiffly, “Thank you for coming. At first, I was angry, but when I looked at my own actions over these years. Well, I haven’t it made it easy on anyone in the family.”
Lou jumped to their defense, citing business, but Tom was still listening watchfully. “We thought it best to keep up the family name.”
“Oh, screw the family name,” Mark said. “I was a treasure hunter for God’s sakes. It’s not any of your jobs to make the Barlow name more respected than it’s ever been. It’s nice if that happens along the way.”
“So where do we go from here?” Tom asked. He still seemed to hold back from believing his father’s turn of heart. “What’s your plan?”
“Well, we’ll figure it out. We can spend Christmas together, here or in New York,” Mark said. “Unless you have other plans. I know it will take time for all of us. I just need this chance with you again.”
“Of course.” Tom was still as watchful as ever. He reminded me of most of Mark at that moment.
“I understand your hesitation. That’s why I had Josh read my intentions before we got the news. I didn’t want to give myself the chance to back out of it,” Mark said, patting Sofie’s hand with his free one.
The deep, curious streak in me made me happy to be in the room, to know what happened here. If Mark truly could reconnect his family, then this might be a pivotal moment in a biography someday. But the rest of me wasn’t sure why I was here still.
Especially when Mark’s doctor walked in the room. “Family only,” he said when he saw me, brisk and tough.
“He’s here as a friend to me, Doc,” Mark said. And I must admit, my heart warmed a bit at that and I smiled at him. I backed off and sat in a chair in the corner so Tom and Lou could be closer to their father for the news. “So, how has the treatment gone?”
The tough doctor took a seat on Mark’s bed and smiled. “This is one of those days it’s good to have my job, Mr. Barlow. You’re not in full remission yet, but we’re getting there. We intend not to progress to chemotherapy. It’s all coming up Mark Barlow today.”
The doctor continued talking about plans, next steps, and Mark’s health. But all I could focus on was that he was getting better. Not perfectly so, but enough that he and his daughter might be stuck with me in small-town New York state for a little while longer.
And Sofie found my gaze and gave me one of her small, mysterious smiles. And I thought things might just be all right.
SOFIE
IT TOOK US a while to leave my father’s room. He was more chipper than I’d seen him in ages and sent Josh to scrounge up some celebratory orange juice for us. And Josh hung out as my father made his first, stilted attempts at kinder conversation. And it thrilled me my father was doing well with his treatment.
But I was also okay when he got tired, and we all began to drift our separate ways. Tom and Lou took another dramatic helicopter ride away from the hospital. And then it was my small team and Josh, heading back to Homesburg.
“We’re all going to the same place. Do you want a ride?” I asked Josh. Such a small question that still felt precarious to me to make. Like a balancing act.
“Sure, that’d be great. Your dad’s drive Joe is intimidating,” Josh said as he looped a scarf around his neck. “Thank you for the ride.”
It elated me when he said yes and then spent the half-hour car ride debating what exactly to say to him. Rocco and Patty were back in the front seats since drama had died down that I was living in small-town New York. But I still wanted to wait until we were alone to talk. Instead, Josh made small talk with Patty and Rocco and included me occasionally.
The Lodge loomed bright and cheery with its homemade jack-o’-lanterns. Rocco and Patty said goodnight to us, her giving me an encouraging thumbs up after and him winking at me in the rearview mirror. I tried to take on their enthusiasm for this conversation, quietly following Josh up the stairs and into the lobby.
“I kind of miss when there were fewer people,” I told Josh at the sight of a couple families and a few tourists milling about. “I understand it’s good for Cory’s business.”
Josh smiled. “Yeah, I know what you mean. It was nice when it was quiet around here.”
“Do you have time for a drink?” I asked hopefully.
“Sure,” Josh said at a slow drawl. “A booth?”
I appreciated he didn’t seem to be in a rush to get me talking. We took our time finding a booth. It was early enough in the afternoon we had the run of the place.
It was go time. I blurted out, “I’m sorry,” as Josh was taking his coat off. “What you read today was sweet. And I assumed the worst the other week.”
Josh nodded, setting his coat away from him. “Yeah, well, I get how it could look. And you know, with the contents of the obit and all, I know it was a stressful time.”
“You’re really the only thing hasn’t been stressful to me this past couple of months.” Another embarrassing thing to just say to someone. I pushed through a wave of panic at giving him so much ammunition by admitting. “I freak out all the time, about everything usually. But you’re the last person I should have taken that out on.”
Josh’s eyes were warm and soft, a comforting brown that warmed me. “It didn’t feel good. But thank you for saying that. I can tell that you mean it.”
“I missed you this week,” I told him. I’d used all my bravery on just talking to him about this. If I’d had any more, I would have reached out for his hand across the booth. I felt like I was circling towards saying what I wanted to say. “You make me happy. And you’re more than just good company to me.”
Josh gave me that little crooked grin that clued me in he’d be teasing me. “Oh? Am I your favorite person?”
“You are. You’re my favorite person to spend time with,” I told him. “Would you spend some time with me? Even after how I yelled at you and my father?”
“Time with you how?” Josh took a slow sip of his drink.
I wanted to roll my eyes but held off considering how much I was asking for. “Are you going to make me spell it all out?”
Josh nodded. “I feel I have to force the Barlow family into talking about their feelings. It may be my one true calling in life.”
I laughed, which cut through all the tension I was feeling from all this opening up and baring my feelings. “Would you go on a first date with me, now that I’ve broken off our fake relationship?”
Josh’s smiled warmed impossibly more. “How about right now? Are you free?”
Josh reached across the booth table and took my hand. Somehow he was always impossibly brave when I couldn’t be. Maybe that was why he made me feel so good.
“Right now works for me,” I told him, squeezing his hand. “And I think the next month should be.”
“I’m glad your father is doing better,” Josh told me.
Tears sparkled in my eyes. Happy ones, finally. “M
e too.”
“And I think I won the bet about winning your father over,” Josh told me, his thumb rubbing circles over the back of my hand. “I hung out with him this week in the mornings.”
“Ah, I was wondering when you had time to become friends.” I finally got to take a sip of my drink. Strong and bracing, though I didn’t need it to give me any courage right now. “Thank you for doing that.”
“Oh, yeah, he totally paid me,” Josh said. And then he winced. “And speaking of money, there’s something I need to tell you. Your father said he’s not leaving you or your brothers any money.”
“Yeah, he started telling us that when we were kids,” I told Josh. “All the time. We had to go out and make names for ourselves. Unfortunately, we all found our places at the family businesses. Everything’s getting left to the Foundation to disperse at our discretion.”
Josh seemed shocked by that. “Seriously? You’ve known? And doesn’t that mean your discretion?”
“Oh, I shove it in Tom and Lou’s faces all the time. But yeah. That part might honestly be part of why we have so much to catch up on.” I bit my lip. “He’s not leaving us with absolutely nothing, but we also needed to ‘make our own way’ and ‘find our passionate purpose.’ I know I still got lucky.”
Josh chuckled. “I love your dad, but I can see why it might not have felt lucky all the time with him.”
“Yeah, he’s a lot. My family’s a lot. I’m difficult too,” I told Josh. Now that I had him, I couldn’t seem to help myself from warning him off. “I think your brother hates me.”
“Oh no, you’re still his favorite customer by far,” Josh reassured me. “The Lodge’s available rooms got booked out for months because of the article.”
“Oh, that’s great. I’m glad something good came of that.” I had half-forgotten that I’d announced to the world that Josh and I were an item. “It’s a good thing we’re getting back together. Otherwise, you might have to retract those pictures.” I raised my eyebrows at him.