All We Have Is Now

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All We Have Is Now Page 13

by Lisa Schroeder


  “Em, you are not. Maybe a little hardheaded once in a while, but that’s the only way you are similar to a rock.”

  “Thanks,” she says, lacing it with a bit of sarcasm. “Thanks a lot.”

  “Look,” he says, “we could sit here and do ‘what ifs’ all day long. Doesn’t do us any good right now.”

  “Personally, I’m glad we didn’t stay there,” Kendall says. “It wasn’t a good place for us.”

  Kailee doesn’t say anything. She just stares out the window, at the empty driveway. Emerson looks at Vince, feeling completely helpless.

  “Kailee?” Vince asks as he turns around. “You all right?”

  “I can’t believe she’s not here,” she says softly. “I thought …” She turns to Kendall. “She should be here.”

  “But she’s not, so you guys have to figure out how you’re going to make the most of it,” Vince says matter-of-factly. Emerson wonders if that sounds harsh to them. “You’ve got each other, right? And you’ve got Teddy.” He reaches out and pets Teddy’s head. “You’ve got more than a lot of people have, I promise you that.”

  “We’ll be all right,” Kendall says. Emerson can tell she’s trying her best to reassure her sister. “Maybe we can bake something delicious.”

  Kailee perks up a little bit at that idea. “Hey, yeah. We could totally do that. I know we have flour and sugar, and a few eggs left. I’m pretty hungry, actually.”

  Emerson almost suggests they all go find something to eat, but she knows Vince is anxious to head back to Portland.

  “How about if we make cupcakes?” Kendall asks. “We have Grandma’s recipe. You know, the chocolate ones she always makes? Pretty sure we have powdered sugar for the icing, too.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Vince says. “If we didn’t have to get back, we’d stay and help you out with those.”

  “He means he’d help you eat them, not make them,” Emerson teases.

  “Hey, I bet I could bake up some fine cupcakes if I got the chance,” he says. “I know my way around a kitchen. I made a mean grilled cheese sandwich, once upon a time.”

  “Okay, we seriously need to stop talking about food before I make like a lion and eat all of you,” Emerson says.

  “We should go,” Kailee says, nudging her sister.

  “Thanks so much,” Kendall says, looking at Vince and Emerson. “For everything.”

  “Yeah,” Kailee agrees. “Thank you. We’re so lucky you offered to help us in the store.”

  Kendall nods. “Really lucky.”

  “Well, you girls take care of yourselves,” Vince says. “And Teddy, too, of course.”

  “We will,” Kailee says as she opens the door.

  “ ’Bye, you guys,” Emerson says. “Thanks for being awesome.”

  “ ’Bye,” the girls say softly as they get out of the car with Teddy.

  Vince and Emerson sit there and watch the girls walk up the driveway toward the front door.

  They don’t notice the car coming down the street until it turns into the driveway. Kendall and Kailee are at the door, in the process of opening it, when they hear the engine. They turn around and stare, as if they can’t quite believe it.

  And then, the skinny red-haired woman is getting out of the car and running toward them. If the girls have mixed feelings about seeing her, they don’t show it. They simply run toward her, and fall into her arms.

  It is a wonderful, happy scene, though Emerson knows that behind the smiling faces, there’s a lot more going on. She hopes, for everyone’s sake, they can figure out a way to focus on the good stuff.

  Vince looks over at Emerson and smiles as he puts the car into drive. “See how easy it is? Just like that.”

  “I doubt it will be anything like that,” Emerson says as they pull away from the house. The girls don’t even notice them leave, which, Emerson thinks to herself, is exactly how it should be. “I’m happy for them, though. Maybe she’ll help them clean up the kitchen so they can make those chocolate cupcakes.”

  “And now we can go to Portland guilt-free, right?” Vince says.

  “Actually, can we make one quick stop first?” Emerson asks. “I promise it won’t take long.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  She bites her lip as she tries to decide how to respond before she says, “It’s a surprise. Just go out to the main street here and head toward downtown Salem.”

  “Emerson. Really? After our discussion about surprises? Come on. Please tell me.”

  “No. I’m not going to tell you. Because you might say no. And I really want to do this. So you have to trust me and drive. I’m not sure exactly how to get there, but I’m hoping there will be signs.”

  He sighs. “Sometimes you’re impossible, do you know that?”

  She smiles. “Yeah. I’ve been told that once or twice.”

  He reaches over and squeezes her shoulder. “But it’s part of what makes you … you, so I can’t really complain, can I?”

  “Nope. No complaining.” She points her finger straight ahead. “Just driving.”

  THE SIGN at the top of the building gives it away. SALEM’S RIVERFRONT CAROUSEL.

  Vince doesn’t say a word as he parks the car by the curb. There doesn’t seem to be anyone else here, although the glass windows that used to cover the front of the building are all broken.

  “I hope they didn’t vandalize it,” Emerson says. “That would be horrible.”

  They step through the shards of broken glass and Emerson pulls on one of the doors, which swings open easily.

  The old carousel stands there, as magnificent as ever.

  There’s graffiti on the walls, and the gift store nearby has been looted. But thankfully, whoever did it left the carousel alone.

  “Which horse do you like?” Emerson asks as they walk around and eye the different animals. “Or maybe you want to ride the zebra?”

  He stops next to a horse that has a silver shield on its shoulder, and is painted as if it’s wearing gold armor, like it’s ready for battle. The headdress it wears is teal and gold and beautiful.

  Vince gets on the horse.

  “I’m going to try and find the on-off switch,” Emerson says.

  “Look inside that little podium,” Vince says, pointing near the place where a person usually stands and takes the tickets.

  She steps over to it and sure enough, there’s a red button and a green button hidden inside. She presses the green button and a bell rings before the carousel starts to move.

  The childlike music plays as the horses move up and down, around and around. Emerson wonders if she should try to jump onto the carousel while it’s moving, but decides against it. This is for Vince, after all.

  She waves when he comes around and he waves back. Again and again he passes by her, and it’s easy to imagine him as an adorable little boy with a big grin on his face, riding the carousel next to his mom.

  After a few minutes, Emerson goes back to the pedestal and hits the red button. The carousel slows down. She walks over and waits for it to stop completely.

  “How was it?” she asks him.

  He hops off his horse. “Honestly? A little lonely.”

  She steps onto the carousel, walks over, and hugs him. For a long time.

  When they separate she says, “I wanted to try and give you a little piece of her, and I thought of coming here after you shared your do-over day with us.”

  “It was a sweet gesture. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “It’s probably hard for you to understand, but I actually carry a piece of her with me always.” He puts his hand over his heart. “Right here.”

  “But it’s not enough, is it? Don’t you want more? Aren’t you mad you don’t get more?”

  He turns and stares at the carousel. “Maybe sometimes I am, but I really try not to be. I mean, it’s wasted energy, wishing for more. I’d rather spend my time making wishes that might come true.”

  Sh
e laces her fingers through his and leans her head on his arm.

  He squeezes her hand as he says, “I’m sorry I yelled earlier. But I really don’t want to visit her grave. I know some people like doing that, but I don’t.” He pauses. “What I have, it’s enough.”

  She turns her face toward him and he kisses her forehead. “Because it has to be?” she asks.

  He stares at the carousel again. “Because it has to be.”

  AS THEY drive back toward Portland, Emerson realizes how tired she feels. Hungry, too. They’ve been going hard for a lot of hours, and suddenly, all she wants to do is take a moment and rest. Breathe. But Vince is driving fast, like he’s on a mission and nothing’s going to stop him.

  “What’s my mom doing right now?” Emerson asks softly as they speed along the freeway.

  “Well, she has a feeling you’re gonna show up today. A strong feeling. So she’s in the bathroom, putting on a little makeup. Wants to look nice for you. She’s excited you’re coming. And, since I know you’re going to ask about your sister next, I’ll tell you that she’s there, too. She’s in the kitchen, baking a cake. They want to be ready to celebrate your homecoming.”

  Emerson doesn’t say anything. She’s trying to picture them. Wonders what they look like—how much they’ve changed since the last time she saw them.

  She pictures her mom, run-down. Exhausted. And terribly unhappy, it seemed, in those last days and weeks.

  “Vince, please don’t be upset with me, but I really don’t want to go. I’m tired and hungry and—”

  “I know you don’t want to go. But you need to.”

  “Why? If I don’t care about seeing them, why do you care so much?”

  He slams his hand down, hard, on the steering wheel. “Because, dammit, I would give anything to see my mom today.” He turns and looks at her, his eyes cold and hard. “Anything.”

  “Right. You know why?” She’s yelling now, too. “Because your mom was nice to you. She loved you more than anything. The way you’ve opened up and talked about her today, I can tell how much you meant to each other. She never would have kicked you out of her house. But that’s what my mother did, and I don’t think—”

  “You don’t get it, do you?”

  “Get what?”

  “Time is running out!”

  “I know that! Don’t you think I know that? It’s exactly why I don’t want to go there.” She reaches over and grabs on to his arm. “It could be a huge waste of time, if they don’t want to see me.”

  “Girl, when are you going to stop saying that? Thinking that? Of course they want to see you. And in your final moments, I don’t want you to have any regrets. You know why? Regret hurts. Trust me, I know. I think about the last time I saw my mother and all the things I didn’t say that I wish I had and …” He looks over at her. “It hurts a lot, and it will haunt you forever.”

  She stares at the digital clock, taking in his words. Her eyes are so heavy. When the clock changes, showing another minute has passed, it makes her jump a little.

  “They’re family,” Vince says, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Your family. All anyone wants today is to be with their loved ones.”

  There’s something in his voice, the way he says it, that makes her feel like the worst person in the world. “Except me, the heartless bitch, right?”

  He shakes his head. “That’s not what I said. Look, I just know that once you see them, once they see you, nothing else will matter. The past is the past. It’s gone, you know? It doesn’t matter anymore.” He pauses. “All we have is now. Right now.”

  Her eyes go back to the clock. She stares at it, and it’s not long before the number changes again.

  Another minute has passed.

  She closes her eyes as water starts to fill them. She doesn’t want to cry. Not now. Not ever. Crying’s stupid. It never changes anything.

  There’s no way to change any of it.

  There’s not a single thing they can do.

  It’s done.

  Over.

  Soon.

  Really soon.

  Too soon.

  Panic rises up as her heart races. “Can you pull over, please?”

  He looks at her, his eyes now filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need some air. Now! Just pull over!”

  He does as she says. She gets out and stumbles across the asphalt, the heat rising up, almost suffocating her. She makes her way to the grassy field as she tries to catch her breath. She feels Vince trying to put his arm around her. Trying to offer support or affection or something, but she pushes him away.

  “Let me breathe,” she gasps.

  “Em, you’re scaring me.”

  She stops and stands up straight and tall, her breaths coming fast. “Well, join the freaking club.” And then, her anger dissolves as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Oh my God, Vince, I’m so scared. What are we going to do? I don’t want to die. Maybe I’d convinced myself that I did. Told myself there wasn’t anything to live for. But, yesterday and today, the world’s proven me wrong. And now, I’m supposed to give it all up?”

  She turns her back to Vince and shouts up at the sky. “Well, I don’t want to!”

  Tears sting her eyes, and she tries to stop them, but it’s useless. It’s not fair, her thoughts whisper over and over again. How can it be over now, when she’s getting to the best part?

  She loves him. And he loves her. It’s good and right and true, but there’s too much going on to rejoice in any of that. All she feels is an ever-increasing terror about what comes next, and anger at having to go way too soon.

  “Love shouldn’t end,” she whispers as he gently spins her around to face him again.

  He takes one of her hands and places it over his heart as he leans down to kiss her forehead. “Who says it has to?”

  It’s so sweet and tender, more tears fall. Emerson falls, too, right into Vince’s arms, and he is there. Always there. Thank God.

  It seems there’s nothing to do but let go and give in. And with that thought, she cries even harder.

  TAKE WHAT’S given

  and accept it.

  Deal with it.

  Maybe even

  learn to embrace it.

  That’s what

  they say.

  When life is dark

  and ugly.

  When hunger is

  your only friend.

  When every minute

  feels like an hour.

  That’s when it’s

  easy to accept it.

  Deal with it.

  Maybe even embrace it.

  Because through it all

  you don’t feel worthy

  of anything else.

  But now life is

  palace-rose pink

  with silver streaks.

  There is hope,

  happiness,

  and endless possibility.

  You’ve tasted the

  macaron of life

  and it is sweet.

  Maybe you don’t

  deserve it.

  But maybe you do.

  All you want

  is the chance

  to find out.

  Accept your fate?

  Deal with it?

  Embrace it?

  Before,

  it was easy.

  Now

  it feels

  completely

  impossible.

  WITH NOTHING else to do, Carl sits at the patio table, eating cookies. Rhonda is pacing again. She’s tried to stay positive and upbeat.

  “They’ll be back soon,” she must have said a dozen times.

  Now the poor woman looks pale. Frightened. She is worried sick. Of course, she doesn’t burden Carl with that worry, but he can see it, all over her face.

  “Why don’t you sit down,” Carl says. He points to the plate of Nilla Wafers. “Have a cookie. They’re really good.”

  “I shouldn’t have let t
hem go,” she mutters. “Why wasn’t he over here, first thing this morning, so it wasn’t an issue? Frankie woke up and wondered why he hadn’t come by to say good-bye.” She looks at Carl. “You wanna know why? Because people are assholes sometimes, that’s why.”

  “By he, you mean her father?” Carl asks.

  “Yes. She felt like she should go and see him. That’s the problem with Frankie. She’s so damn thoughtful all the time.”

  He chuckles. “That’s a problem, all right. So wait, you said Frankie’s dad isn’t Paige’s dad?”

  She stops pacing and looks at Carl. “That’s correct.”

  “Come on,” he says, scooting a chair out for her. “Take a seat.”

  She hesitates a moment, but does as he asks. Once she’s seated, she stares at the plate of cookies for a long time. She reaches out and fiddles with one as she talks. “Carl, what you don’t know about me is that I’ve been an awful mother.”

  “No. I don’t believe that.”

  “It’s true, though.” Her eyes, starting to fill with tears, meet his. Then she whispers, “What if they’re not coming back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She tries to blink the tears back. “I mean, what if they didn’t want to spend the last hours with me? I’ll be here, all alone. My three girls, three darling daughters, gone. Spending their last day somewhere else. Anywhere else. Away from their horrible mother.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” Carl says. “There’s still time.” He smiles. “Besides, if they don’t come back, you won’t be alone. You’ll be stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

  “What a mess,” she says. “Never in a million years would I have pictured the last day like this.”

  “Life is full of surprises, I guess,” Carl says, picking up another cookie and eating it.

  “Do you have any regrets?” she asks. “Anything you’d do differently?”

  He sighs as he leans back in his chair. “Of course. Who doesn’t?”

  “Yeah. I just wish I didn’t have so many.” She takes a drink of water. “I’d make you a nice, long list, but we don’t have enough time. A lot of them involve Emerson, though. God knows she wasn’t an easy child, but I should have handled things better.”

 

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