by Rachel Magee
Henry ignored her. “I wrote you a letter explaining everything. It was all a misunderstanding. A big, horrible misunderstanding.”
“A letter?” Millie kept her wide smile, though it was starting to look a little more forced. She threw a questioning look at Braxton.
“Henry, this is my friend Millie. Millie Leclair. She was the one I was telling you I wanted you to meet.” Braxton used a voice a little louder than normal, patting his friend on his shoulder, but his words seemed lost on Henry.
Henry shook off Braxton’s hand. “I know Millie Leclair,” he said, then turned, beaming at Millie with that same far-off look in his eyes. “You came back, my love. I was afraid you wouldn’t read my letter. But here you are.”
Veronica had set her own tray down on the table and now laid a gentle hand on Henry’s other shoulder. “Mr. Donovan, why don’t you come sit down and rest a while? It has been such an exciting day. You are safe. You’re at Summer Island Memory Care Home where you live and we’re taking good care of you. Let’s sit and relax.”
Braxton recognized Veronica’s calm, soothing words. They were the basic facts given to help anchor Henry when he was having a moment of confusion. She would continue repeating them until he recognized something or calmed down enough to relax. Usually, Braxton helped with this process, but right now he stood spellbound by the scene.
Mildred. My love. Letters.
It must have clicked for Millie at the same time, because she whispered, “He thinks I’m Aunt Mildred? Did Henry used to date her?”
This was new information for Braxton, too, and his gaze bounced between Henry and Millie as the pieces of the past started to come together like a long-lost jigsaw puzzle. Perhaps he should’ve made this connection before, but honestly it’d never occurred to him. Part of that reason was due to the fact that when Henry mentioned he knew Mildred Leclair, Braxton assumed it was because everyone knew everyone in this small town, and he never bothered to stop and think about when he would’ve known her.
But perhaps the biggest thing that had thrown him off was the little-known fact that he hadn’t remembered until right now. Henry’s first name, a name he claimed was only ever used by his mother and the only trace of it left was on his birth certificate, was Christopher.
Meanwhile, Millie had refocused on Henry, her forced smile turning more genuine. “I’m Millie, Mildred’s great-niece.” She kept her voice bright and some of the concern lines that had crept up around her eyes started to fade away. “She was an amazing woman, so I’m flattered to be mistaken for her. I’d love to hear more about how you knew her.” She held her hand out to Henry in a friendly attempt to restart their introduction.
“Henry’s Mr. C,” Braxton blurted out without thinking, then winced as soon as the words had left his mouth. He didn’t want to create more confusion, but the discovery was blowing his mind.
Millie paused, her hand still hovering in front of her. “Henry Donovan is Mr. C?”
Henry’s face screwed up in frustration. “What are you talking about? Why does everyone keep changing names?”
“Mr. Donovan, you’re at Summer Island Memory Care Home where you live. Braxton came by with his friend Millie to help us out today.” Veronica rubbed his arm and tossed a warning look at Braxton.
But Braxton kept his focus on Henry. “That letter, Henry. What did you explain to Mildred in that last letter?”
Henry turned to him, his eyes narrowed and his expression turning angry. “Letter? What letter?” Confusion clouded his voice and Braxton knew whatever memory had captivated him was now fading. Times like this often led to his biggest episodes, but Braxton couldn’t let it go. This could be the only shot he had to find out the truth.
Millie took a step back, looking uncertain.
Veronica’s gaze narrowed on Braxton, clearly telling him to back off before he upset Henry. “Braxton, why don’t we table this conversation until another time. You and Mr. Donovan can play a game of chess. This dark and rainy day is perfect for chess, don’t you think?”
Braxton probably should’ve listened to her advice, but he couldn’t leave it alone yet. Henry’s answers were important, not just for Millie, but for himself. Treading carefully, he pushed forward. “Your stories of Seascape, the ones I’m not old enough to hear, they’re about Mildred, aren’t they?”
A hint of recognition flickered in Henry’s eyes. “Mildred,” he whispered. He looked from Braxton to Millie to Veronica. His face screwed up with a combination of frustration and fear, as if trying to recall the memory was like trying to grab onto a fading tendril of smoke.
“Were you in love with Mildred?” This discovery felt big. It was a part of Henry’s life story that Braxton didn’t know and could explain a lot of questions about why he took the route he did, about the advice he’d always given Braxton. About the path Braxton himself should take because of it. “The Big Regret you always talk about? Did that have to do with Mildred?”
Henry pursed his lips together, his breathing becoming more rapid as he glared at Braxton. “I don’t… I can’t…”
“What happened with Mildred? Why was she The Big Regret?” Braxton could feel his own pulse racing, but he didn’t stop. They were so close to the truth.
Henry glanced again at Millie, then at Veronica, and finally at the room around him. He squeezed his eyes shut in angry frustration, color rising from underneath the collar of his shirt.
“Braxton!” Veronica wedged herself between Braxton and Henry, putting an arm around the old man’s shoulders. “Mr. Donovan, you’re at Summer Island Memory Care Home where you live and you’re safe. Why don’t you come over here with me and we set up this chessboard? Let’s get those pieces in the right place.” She steered him off in the direction of a small table that held the antique chessboard Braxton had donated to the facility just after Henry came to stay here.
Braxton watched his friend relax into one of the chairs, the dedicated and amazing Veronica calming him down before the situation got out of control. There should’ve been relief flowing through him that she was able to deescalate the situation as quickly as she did. And perhaps, somewhere deep down, it was there, but mostly he was consumed with all the other thoughts scurrying through his mind.
Millie stepped up next to him. “You okay?” She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm.
Braxton sorted through the cacophony of emotions. On the one hand, he just learned an important piece of Henry’s past. It was the piece that explained why Henry chose the path he did. It also brought a fresh clarity to advice and life coaching Henry had given him over the years.
But on the other hand, his heart broke once again at the thought of not being able to have a conversation with Henry about it. The deep feeling of loss formed a lump in his throat.
“Yeah, I’m okay,” he said eventually.
Millie leaned her head on his shoulder, and her quiet support poured into him, giving him strength. “When you’re ready, want to talk about my aunt and your coach? You seem to know a bit more than I do.”
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Who would’ve thought? “You want the short version or the long version?”
“Whichever version includes why he used stationery monogrammed with a C, and why my aunt was known as The Big Regret.”
…
Millie watched Henry as Braxton finished explaining all the bits of the story he’d gotten from his mentor without knowing he was the mysterious Mr. C.
She was mildly aware her mouth was hanging open. “Wow.” She’d spent quite a bit of time thinking about who’d captured her aunt’s heart with his eloquent words, but she had to admit she’d never even considered Henry. “I mean, he’s been right here the whole time.”
“Actually, he hasn’t.” Braxton stole a quick glance at his mentor. “He grew up here, but he left Summer Island shortly after high school to pursue his g
olfing career, sometime in the mid-fifties.”
“Probably around the time of the last letter,” Millie added.
“Exactly. And once he left, he never came back. He always told me that other than the best golf course in the world, this town had nothing for him. Even after I fell in love with Summer Island and bought a house here, he only ever came for short stays to play golf with me. The only reason he officially moved back was because Jade died and I needed him.”
Millie sorted through all the details in her mind, trying to put together the story that had captivated her all summer. “So what happened? Why was she The Big Regret?”
Braxton shrugged. “That’s the part I don’t know. Henry would talk about The Big Regret from time to time. It was always a cautionary tale about not letting opportunities pass you by and seizing the moment. I always thought it had something to do with his golf career.” A hint of sadness flickered in his eyes. “I do know that it was the one thing he’d do over if he had the chance. I think he never stopped loving her.”
“Based on some of the things my aunt used to say, I think the same was true for her.” Millie leaned back in her chair and watched the author of her aunt’s love letters. “I wonder what happened that drove them apart.”
“I think there’s a chance we might never know all the details, but at least we have this piece of the puzzle.”
“For sure.” Being able to put a face to the voice behind the letters was oddly satisfying, even if she didn’t know the whole story. “So now what?”
“Now we play chess. Do you know how to play?”
A hint of nervousness fluttered through her. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” The last time she stood in front of Henry, it’d caused quite a scene. She didn’t want to upset him a second time. This day was already upsetting enough as it was.
“These kinds of episodes can be hard to watch, but it’s the disease not the person. And it has nothing to do with you.” There was a kindness in Braxton’s eyes that made sense after she’d experienced this part of his world.
“Henry’s a big part of my life. I wish you could’ve gotten to meet the real Henry, when his mind was still his. You would’ve liked him. But this is hard. And if you don’t feel comfortable, you don’t have to interact with him.”
Once again, Millie was overwhelmed by the magnitude of Braxton’s responsibility. Day in and day out he selflessly gave of himself to care for those he loved. He was one amazing man. It reinforced her desire to be part of his life. Not just the easy fun parts, but also the hard parts.
She looked up at him from under her lashes. “Did I ever tell you I was on the all-district chess team in junior high?”
“You keep getting better.” He waggled his eyebrows, which sent familiar tingles racing through her. “Let’s give him some time to settle down, then I’ll introduce you again. Formally this time.” He picked up the two pitchers of tea from the nearby table and held them out to her. “In the meantime, how do you feel about refilling some drinks?”
Millie took the two pitchers of tea from him, reading the labels. “Regular and unsweet? Isn’t that the same thing?”
Some of the stress that was weighing on Braxton seemed to lift and a corner of his mouth pulled up in an amused grin. “Regular means regular sweet tea. Apparently, it’s a southern thing.”
“I have to admit, the stuff can be addictive.”
She and Braxton spent the next thirty minutes circulating the dining room full of heavy square wooden tables, refilling drinks and offering cookies to the bingo playing residents. Braxton greeted every one of them by name, offering kind remarks and encouraging smiles. Some acted like they recognized him, but most stared up at him with empty looks in their eyes. Sympathy pulled at Millie’s heart.
At the same time, watching Braxton interact with them made whatever magnetic draw that was pulling her to him even stronger.
When they’d worked the whole room, they returned the tray and pitchers to the serving table. “You sure you’re ready for this?” Braxton asked.
Millie nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Braxton took her hand, lacing his fingers through hers as they headed for the table where Henry was playing chess with Veronica.
“Hello, old man.” He clapped his friend on the shoulder.
“You’re late.” Despite the grumpy tone, Henry’s expression lit up with the sort of excitement that said he was happy to see his friend, late or not.
Braxton pulled a chair from the neighboring table and placed it next to him. “I am, but I guess Veronica here has been telling you there’s a hurricane outside. Hurricane Axel. It’s appropriate someone finally named a storm after that golfing imposter.”
Henry let out an annoyed sigh. “I don’t know why they let him on the tour. But if the storm’s anything like the golfer, it won’t do much.”
Braxton chuckled. “Henry, I want to introduce you to my new friend Millie and her dog Bear.”
A spark of nervousness zinged through her as she stepped in front of Henry. Not only was she still a tad concerned that her presence would cause another episode—it had only been half an hour after all—but this was Braxton’s person. His opinion mattered. And nothing said meet the family like rolling in during a natural disaster after a day full of manual labor.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Henry studied her, but this time there was no recognition in his eyes as he took her hand.
“Pleasure.”
“Millie also happens to be a champion chess player, so I hope you brought your A-game today.”
Henry shot Braxton a look. “I always bring my A-game.”
Braxton settled back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not what you told me when I beat you last week.”
As they bantered back and forth, Henry seemed to relax. They had a special relationship, and getting to witness it was a treat. The last of the guards she’d put up around her heart faded away.
She handed Bear’s leash to Braxton and slid into the seat across from Henry that Veronica vacated. “It’s been a while since I’ve played. I hope I live up to the hype.”
Henry made his first move. “I’d take it easy on you, but they say my memory’s going and I’ll probably forget my word before the game’s over.”
His ability to make the best of his situation made Millie grin. “Fair enough.” She made her first countermove.
So maybe he wasn’t exactly the same man as before the disease captured him, but there were hints of the great man who inspired Braxton and wrote beautiful letters to her aunt.
Henry looked over at Braxton and, not bothering to be discreet about it, nodded his head at Millie. “So, you sweet on her?”
Braxton chuckled. He met Millie’s gaze and the familiar jolt of excitement surged through her.
“Yeah, something like that.”
Chapter Nineteen
Millie lay on her back in the darkness in the women’s on-call room and stared at the bunk above her. The storm had stopped hours ago, but since it was dark and the electricity in the whole city was out, she and Braxton had decided to wait to leave until the sun came up, which, according to her phone, would be any minute.
Millie had been a fan of the idea partly because of the safety aspect, but also because being here kept her mind off everything else. As long as she was pouring drinks or doing dishes, she didn’t have to think about how one day had derailed her life.
On top of the list of things she was still trying to come to terms with was the whole kiss situation. From here on out, everything with Braxton was going to be different, which was a good thing, right? This wasn’t one of those situations that when the stormed cleared and they stood in the light of day looked a lot more like a mistake than a good idea, was it?
Of course, thinking about storms clearing was her second most inevitable top
ic. She didn’t want to imagine what the howling wind was doing to her renovations or what it would take to do more repairs. She didn’t want to wonder how high the storm surge came or whether the trees were still standing or had gone through her house. She’d rather think about scrubbing deep pots until they gleamed.
But now the storm had passed and a new day had dawned, and it was time to face the music.
She crawled out of the creaky bunk bed and dressed in the darkness, careful to not wake any of the sleeping staff members. Quietly gathering her things, she made her way out of the dark room into the lit hallway with Bear lazily trotting along behind her.
Veronica was already up and dressed, looking as cheerful as always while she rearranged the chairs in the dining room. Bear sidled up to her and looked up with expectant eyes, waiting for her to pet him.
“You’re one good boy.” Veronica scratched behind his ears before she looked up at Millie. “He was the single most successful tool to calm down our upset residents yesterday. Thanks for letting us use him as a comfort dog.”
Millie set her small bag and raincoat on a nearby chair, wishing she’d had the forethought to bring a toothbrush with her. “I think he enjoyed it more than the residents. There’s nothing this guy likes more than attention and getting petted.”
“You know, if you and Bear can find time in your schedule to come by once or twice a week, we’d love it. We’ve been looking for a companion dog ever since we lost our last one a couple months back.”
Bear was surveying the empty room with his tongue hanging out the side of what appeared to be a wide, openmouthed grin.
“I think he’d like that. He loves putting a smile on people’s faces.”
“He wasn’t the only one who caused some smiles. I caught someone else who couldn’t stop smiling when he looked at you.” She shot Millie a knowing look that caused another round of nerves to skitter through her.
She shifted and tried to play dumb. “Who? Braxton?” It was a complicated subject she wasn’t quite ready to dive into yet. Not until she had coffee, anyway.