Cottage by the Sea

by Robin Jones Gunn

  As he’d promised, Mike made sure they checked in with Delores every few hours. Her reports were always the same. “Jack is resting. No change.”

  With a stop outside of Redding for fuel and another in Medford, Mike made what he called an executive decision and told Erin they would drive only a few more hours to Eugene before finding a hotel.

  “I can drive some more if it would help,” Erin said. “It looks like it’s going to be light for at least another few hours. Don’t you think we should keep going?”

  “I think we should eat something and get some sleep.”

  “But what if my dad . . .”

  “He’s stable for the time being. You and I won’t be of any help to him if we push the rest of the way. Last time you drove there it took more than four hours from Portland, right? Trust me on this. We need to be ready for anything when we get there. Right now both of us are wrung out.”

  Erin knew Mike was right. After a good dinner of fresh salmon and asparagus at a small restaurant in Springfield, Oregon, they wearily made their way back to a tidy little hotel room where they pulled down the shades and immediately fell asleep.

  The next morning, as Erin laced up her walking shoes, Mike asked, “How is your toe, by the way? You seem to be doing fine. Is it still hurting?”

  “No. It hasn’t bothered me. It’s going to be okay. I thought it would be a lot worse than it is.” She wished those words would be true of her father’s condition as well, but she knew that was too big of a wish.

  Driving through a quirky little espresso hut, Mike ordered a regular coffee along with Erin’s usual nonfat, decaf latte.

  “Really? Nonfat, decaf?” the young woman taking the order responded.

  Erin was caught off guard by the remark. “What’s wrong with that?” she spouted back.

  The girl didn’t hesitate to say cheerfully, “I’m just saying that, on a morning like this, if I were you, I’d order a ‘why not.’”

  “And what is a ‘why not’?”

  “Three shots of Italian espresso with Mayan dark chocolate powder, extra foamy half-and-half with whipped cream and cinnamon on top.”

  “Fine. I’ll have one of those.”

  “Why not, right?” The girl looked pleased.

  Mike looked surprised.

  “Why not?” Erin repeated.

  Once they were back on the freeway, Mike asked, “So, how is it?”

  Erin licked the dash of cinnamon and whipped cream from her upper lip. “Quite possibly the best latte I’ve ever had. Or should I say, the best dessert. It’s like a mocha cream pie only hot. Do you want to try it?”

  “No thanks. This coffee is definitely the best I’ve had in a long time. They certainly know how to brew their beans here in the Northwest.”

  “At least that must be some comfort in their long, wet winters. Although you would never believe they endure all that rain by the looks of things since we entered Oregon. All the grass along the road is dried, and how hot was it when we drove through Medford? Didn’t that sign at the bank across from the gas station say it was eighty-six?”

  “It’s August.” Mike took another swig of his coffee. “It can’t rain here all year long.”

  The fully caffeinated espresso not only got Erin’s eyes all the way open, but it also worked at opening up her mouth to process with Mike the churning thoughts and feelings that had been bumping around in her head and heart the previous day.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to say to Delores when I see her.”

  “You might try starting with ‘Thank you.’”

  “Thank you for what? For not telling me about the strokes my father was having? There is no excuse for her keeping that significant information from me.”

  “Actually, there is an excuse.”

  Erin looked at her husband in disbelief. “Are you taking her side?”

  “I’m saying she honored your father’s request to not let his condition affect Jordan’s wedding. Erin, think what a different day it would have been for everyone if you had known why your dad and Delores weren’t there.”

  She didn’t want Mike to be right. She wanted to stay angry. If she couldn’t keep her anger going against Delores in all this, where was she supposed to put it?

  “It’s a brutal mercy when things like this happen. But you and I both know if you dig past the brutal part, you’ll find the mercy. That’s what you need to think about now. Our son’s wedding would have been a different day if we had known about your dad. He wanted you to be free to celebrate. That might well be the last gift he’s able to give you. Just receive it, sweetheart.”

  Erin let her tears tumble over her warm cheeks. “You know, we’ve hardly talked about Jordan and Sierra’s wedding. It was beautiful, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes, it was.” Mike’s calm voice filled the car, and the rest of the miles slipped by buoyed by memories of their son’s “Happiest Day.” Erin was beginning to understand what Mike had said earlier. It would have been a different day if Delores had given them the news earlier.

  By the time they arrived on the outskirts of the coastal town of Moss Cove, Erin felt surprisingly calm. The area looked different from the way it had in the winter. Instead of closed-up buildings along the main street, the place had come alive with commerce. On the corner was an ice cream shop advertising saltwater taffy and displaying dozens of colorful pinwheels and streamers that twirled in the fresh breeze.

  Mike slowed down to meet the twenty-mile-per-hour speed limit on the narrow two-lane road that wound through town.

  “Charming place,” he said.

  “The sunshine helps. And all the flower baskets hanging from the lampposts. I assure you, this was a different town a year ago in February. When I was here, it felt like a dismal junkyard for amnesiac sailors.”

  Mike turned to Erin with a startled look. “How can you say that? This place is great. I can see why your dad wanted to move here. This is like something out of a movie. Look at the ocean. And these houses. This is a town that time forgot.”

  “It’s rustic, I’ll agree with you there.”

  “Those houses up there on the hills, now those look like the place to be, surrounded by the forest. This is good stuff.”

  “You really like it, don’t you?”

  “Think of all the open land we passed on our way here. We live in a cubicle in Irvine. A single honeycomb that’s part of a huge, standardized hive. Look at that house right there. Now that’s the work of some individualist. Did you see that huge piece of driftwood stuck in the ground to support all those birdhouses? Now that’s the way to live.”

  Erin studied Mike’s expression. “You’re being sarcastic. Tell me you’re being sarcastic.”

  “No.” His unchanged face validated his answer.

  “I can’t believe it. I thought I knew everything there was to know about you. Never in a million years would I have guessed you would like a place like this. Next you’re going to tell me you would like to live here.”

  “No, don’t worry. That’s not what I was thinking.”

  “Okay, so at least you haven’t gone completely nuts on me. Oh, turn right here at the gravel drive just beyond that phone pole.”

  Mike put on the car’s blinker. “I wouldn’t want to live here because I wouldn’t want to try to find work in a place like this, and I wouldn’t want to commute anywhere. But I would like to come here for a vacation.”

  “Or retirement?” Erin asked as Mike headed down the gravel decline that led to Hidden Cottage.

  “Maybe. I’ll tell you one thing. I’d definitely take up fishing if I was here for vacation.”

  “Fishing? Do you like to fish?”

  Instead of answering, Mike slowed the car to a crawl and peered out the front windshield trying to see past the dotted collection of smashed bugs. “Wow. Is this the place?”

  “This is it.”

  Hidden Cottage shone like a sparkling gem in the full sunlight. The front door, painted a warm persimmon
red, looked welcoming and inviting against the sunflower yellow paint that covered the rest of the cottage under the dark pitched roof.

  “It’s a different color,” Erin said. “I remember its being gray. Everything was gray the last time I was here. The sky, the sea, the house.” She had to admit, the summer cottage they were now parked in front of looked charming and welcoming. It was a different place from the one she had visited a year and a half ago.

  Erin also knew that the scene that would greet them inside would be vastly different from what she had experienced a year and a half ago.

  “You ready?” Mike set the emergency brake and offered Erin a brave smile.

  She nodded. But inwardly she knew she wasn’t. What daughter is ever ready to see the hero of her life diminished in stature and confined to a state of partial mobility?

  As she shuffled through the gravel to the makeshift wheelchair ramp that led up to the deck, Mike took her hand in his. He gave her hand two firm squeezes.

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Erin returned three “love-you-too” squeezes to the man who now stood by her side, hand in hand, heart in heart. With Mike beside her, Erin felt ready to face whatever awaited them behind the persimmon red cottage door.

  9

  May joy and peace surround you,

  Contentment latch your door,

  And happiness be with you now

  And God bless you evermore.

  A surrealistic, alternate life began the moment Delores opened the door of Hidden Cottage and welcomed Erin and Mike inside.

  Erin went directly to her father, as she had on her last visit when he was tucked under a blanket in his recliner. That time her father had barked at her about taking so long to get there and then gruffly received the kiss she planted on his cheek. Erin remembered how she had teased him and said, “I’m here now. . . . Isn’t that good enough for you?”

  His reply had been “Never good enough, you know that.”

  This time Erin could barely bring herself to plant a kiss on her father’s cheek, which glistened with streaks of his own saliva. Nor could she find any words of cheer, charm, or comfort. The man propped up in the recliner seemed a poor imitation of her father.

  He didn’t bark at her. Instead he wept. He sobbed odd, guttural sounds as huge tears rolled down his pale face and dampened the washcloth that seemed to be an improvised bib under his chin.

  Erin had no bravery in her. She cried quietly, all the while keeping unbroken eye contact with her father, her blue eyes mirroring the terror in his matching blue eyes.

  She glanced at his right hand where it rested on his stomach, curled into a gnarled fist. His knuckles protruded in a crumpled tangle. He looked so thin. His beautiful white hair had been cut unevenly and was shorter than Erin had ever seen it. He appeared to her as a great lion, captured, wounded, and shorn.

  “I’m so sorry,” she finally whispered.

  Those tiny words threw her father into an even deeper state of wailing, like a wounded animal. The sound went into her bones, and Erin knew she would never forget it.

  Mike placed a firm hand on Erin’s shoulder and pulled her back, breaking the eye-to-eye contact between daughter and father. With strength and boldness, Mike moved closer. He reached for a dry washcloth from a stack on the end table and began the work of an orderly, wiping away Jack’s tears and drool. Mike leaned closer, spoke calmly, and told Jack they came as soon as they could.

  “The wedding was wonderful,” Mike said. “We’ll show you all the pictures as soon as we get them. Jordan married a beautiful young woman. I think you’ll like her very much. She feels like part of the family already.”

  To Erin’s surprise, her father’s demeanor seemed instantly to change with Mike’s ministering touch. Her dad’s left eyebrow went up, as if indicating interest to hear more. Mike moved the pillow under Jack’s head without asking if he wanted it moved. But as soon as Mike adjusted it the taut muscle in Jack’s neck relaxed, and it seemed as if it were easier now for him to look at them.

  Mike made himself comfortable by sitting in the wheelchair parked beside the recliner. He went over some wedding details, describing the location, the bridal party, and the ceremony. Jack listened expressionless but his eyes showed he was clearly engaged. He was as calm as a contented cat.

  Erin had been aware of Delores’s presence behind her as she watched her husband say and do for her father what she wished she had been able to say and do. Turning to Delores, Erin asked, “May I use your bathroom?”

  “Of course. You know where it is.”

  Excusing herself, Erin used the private moments in the bathroom as a chance to blow her nose, summon all her courage, and let the reality of the situation settle on her. She had a long list of questions forming and knew that she and Mike would have to make some difficult decisions before this day was over.

  When she returned to the living room, her father was asleep. “Is he okay?” she whispered to Delores.

  With a condescending look Delores said, “Obviously he’s not.”

  “I mean, right now. Did he just fall asleep?”

  “Yes. He does that. He sleeps most of the time.” Getting right to business, Delores said, “I made reservations for you at the Shamrock Lodgettes down the road. You passed them on the way here. If you would rather stay here, one of you can sleep in the twin bed in the upstairs room and one of you can sleep down here on the sofa.”

  “Thanks.” Erin turned to Mike, who was now standing beside her in the small kitchen. “What do you think we should do?”

  “We’ll stay at the Shamrock,” Mike said. “We can check in now, settle in, and then come back here, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course.” It seemed to Erin that Delores looked as bad as her father did. Her hair was very short and looked as if she had received a bad haircut and then hadn’t washed her hair for several days. She looked exhausted.

  “How about if we bring dinner for you, Delores?”

  “No. I have my own food here. I don’t have food for the two of you, so you should eat before you come back.”

  Erin glanced at her father, sleeping in the recliner in the other room. “When he wakes up, tell him we’ll be back.” Seeing him the way he was right now made it difficult to estimate if his condition was going to be long term or if he was limited in the number of days, weeks, or months he had left.

  Mike and Erin walked out to the car, holding hands. Fast-moving clouds from the east covered the sun, blocking the bit of summertime warmth that barely had visited this jagged coastline. Erin wrapped her light sweater around her and knew she would have to find some warmer clothes if she was going to survive here.

  They drove in silence to the Shamrock Lodgettes and checked into the sparse wooden cabin with a round of information from Sylvia, the talkative motel manager. She was a large woman with a deep voice. Around her neck she wore an exotic long chain of beads. On the end of the chain was a large pair of reading glasses with rims that were equally colorful and exotic-looking. As she handed Erin the key to their lodgette, she said she had a tender spot in her heart for Jack and wanted to know if she could pay him a visit.

  “I don’t see why not,” Erin said. “He brightened up when my husband told him about our son’s wedding. I think it would do him good to have some company.”

  “Tell that to Delores, will you? That wife of his seems bent on keeping all of us away from him as if we’re carrying the next untreatable disease. She even said to my face that it wouldn’t do him any good to have visitors. She’s a heartless you-know-what if you ask me. Never joins him at any of the community gatherings. But when it comes to your dad, I’ll tell you what, he’s the most popular man in town. Always the life of the party. Why, if he had moved up here when he was still a widower, I would have married him myself. Don’t tell my husband that.”

  Mike and Erin politely excused themselves from the office and the friendly Sylvia. They agreed that Jack should have some visitors. He was a people person to the
core. For Delores to lock him up in that small cottage and not allow the townsfolk to come see him was unkind. Erin was determined to change that.

  Mike agreed with her but disagreed with how to go about making the change. Erin wanted to return to her father’s place that evening with several of his cronies in tow. Mike felt strongly that they shouldn’t catch Delores off guard by doing so.

  “We need to talk with Delores about it,” he said. “It’s her home, too.”

  Erin preferred to forget that fact. All she cared about at the moment was doing all she could for her dad.

  “He doesn’t look good, does he?”

  Mike wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. “No, he doesn’t look good. I’m guessing he’s been on a rapid downward path ever since you last saw him. He couldn’t have gotten to where he is now in just two weeks. I think he’s been keeping his condition from you for a long time.”

  “I should have come back up sooner. I should have checked in on him.”

  Mike hushed her. “You’re here now. That’s what matters. And we’re here together. This is the new normal. We need to work from this point out.”

  Mike opened his arms, releasing Erin. She wasn’t quite ready for him to remove his cocoon of comfort. She watched as he went to his luggage and pulled out his laptop. Turning it on and sitting at the small table in the corner of the room as if setting up his new office, he said, “Let’s make a list. We need a plan.”

  Erin was familiar with the way her husband approached most everything in life with his “research and development” mind-set. He loved to look at things from every angle, brainstorm the possible directions they could go, and then come up with a step-by-step plan for implementing the strategies.

  Before they returned to Hidden Cottage that evening, Erin and Mike had agreed that Jack needed to be moved back to Irvine, where he could receive prompt and highly qualified medical attention as his condition progressed, or more likely regressed. Mike said he would present their plan to Delores that evening and see what she had to say. Neither of them expected Delores to hesitate to move back to California.