We’d reached the Lodge. I handed Corinne her bags, and she reached out to pat my cheek. “Don’t worry yourself about him, honey. He don’t know nothin’”, she repeated. “There ain’t nothin’ to know.”
As she entered the Lodge, I turned back towards the gazebo, where John and Michael sat engrossed in conversation. They were two very handsome men, one my best friend in the world, the other undefined, which was exactly the way I wanted it. As I approached, John waved me over, patting the seat beside him.
“Sorry for the ambush, love.” John smiled, his expression decidedly un-sorry. “But you left us no choice. Are you terribly mad at me?”
I sat next to him, bumping him playfully with my shoulder. “I want to be,” I admitted. “But you make it difficult, showing up here in your $500.00 hiking boots.” John’s grin broadened.
“Speaking of hiking boots, I’m going to stretch my legs,” he said. “It’ll give you two a little time to get reacquainted. You haven’t said two words to each other the entire time we’ve been here.” He stood and strolled casually down the driveway, away from the Lodge, and I was left alone with Michael.
Chapter 16
For a moment we simply looked at each other across the table. I knew he had things he wanted to get off his chest, so I waited him out. Finally, Michael cleared his throat.
“Look, Jessie,” he began, “I know you don’t like people butting into your business. You’re private. I get that. I even like it. But....” he stopped, playing with the food on his plate before continuing. “We’ve got some decisions to make. At least I do. I’m hoping we have some sort of a future together. I care about you, and I enjoy my time with you. I miss you when you’re gone. But relationships are generally a two-way affair.”
I felt my blood beginning to boil. “No, you look, Michael,” I shot back, and I sounded a lot snippier than I’d intended. I forged ahead, anyway. “You’re the one putting the relationship label on this. Not me. We enjoy each other’s company. We have a lot in common. We hang out together, and yes, you spend the night. But I never called this a relationship. I never claimed to want a relationship; I made that clear from the beginning. So for you to come here to criticize my lack of investment in our relationship is completely out of line.”
Michael dropped his fork and sat back against the railing of the gazebo, his expression inscrutable. “Well that certainly explains a great deal,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “That clears things up nicely. Thank you for that.”
I felt awful, but I didn’t know how to fix it. I hadn’t wanted a relationship, and I had made that clear from the beginning. And that’s the problem with dating. You make things perfectly clear up front, yet people think if they hang around long enough, you’ll change your mind. It infuriated me.
We sat in uncomfortable silence before Michael sighed and sat forward, elbows on the table. “You’re right,” he said. “You did make it clear. I suppose I just forgot somewhere along the way. I never expected, after I lost Angela and Noah...” His voice broke and he stopped.
Michael had lost his wife and son in a car accident several years previously. I didn’t know the details, other than that they’d been struck by a truck driver on I-10. In spite of our argument, I longed to comfort him. I reached out to touch his arm.
He gave his head a quick shake. “I don’t understand you, Jessie. We act as if we’re in a relationship—you act as if we’re in a relationship. What am I supposed to think?”
He stood and leaned against the rail, his back to me. “Look, Jessie,” he said again, a nervous verbal tic, I realized, “it’s obvious you’ve been through some sort of trauma. You don’t want to talk about it, and that’s fine. It’s also obvious that it still affects you. I’m willing to help you through it in any way I can, if help is what you want.”
He turned to face me. “But one thing you need to understand is that while I’m a patient man, I’m not a martyr. I’d love for us to move forward, but if moving forward isn’t something you’re ever going to want, I will eventually need to move on, for my own sake. You’re right, you have made it clear from the beginning that you don’t want a relationship, but if you’ll remember, I’ve made it clear that I do. If we aren’t going to be exclusive, we need to be very clear about that so that there are no misunderstandings and hurt feelings along the way.”
I certainly had no right to expect anything else. I did enjoy Michael. I cared for him, more than I liked to admit. I was also very aware of his eligible bachelor status; he’d certainly have no problem finding dates. His goal was to find an exclusive, long term relationship and there were hundreds, if not thousands, of women in L.A. with the same goal. I wasn’t thrilled at that thought, but I was not willing to commit to a relationship.
It wasn’t that I wanted to see other people; I didn’t. It was that I was too old, and too tired of the whole scene, to go through it again, much less to put anyone else through it. It hadn’t been fair to my first husband and it wouldn’t be fair to Michael. Michael was a good man; he deserved better. I was carrying around enough baggage to crush a man, and I didn’t want to do that to him.
“Fair enough,” I responded. “We’ll see each other and remain free to see anyone else we choose as well. No misunderstandings, no hurt feelings. And this isn’t awkward at all.”
Michael laughed at my sarcasm, clearing the air. “Well, we need to move past the awkward phase quickly, because John is headed this way.” He nodded towards John, who was slowly plodding his way back to us.
“It’s safe,” He called out when John hesitated. “She put me in my place nicely, and our non-relationship will continue as previously scheduled.”
I couldn’t help but smile, partly at Michael’s humor, and partly because I was relieved that for now at least, it appeared we would be able to continue seeing each other in spite of my hang-ups. It wouldn’t last forever; I knew that. Eventually Michael would find someone wonderful, someone without my history who would be thrilled to commit to a relationship. But until then, I’d enjoy him while it lasted.
“Ah, then,” John said, joining us and sitting down next to me. “It’s good to see Jessie remains the same emotionally stunted yet fantastically beautiful woman we’ve all grown to know and love.” I smacked him in the chest and we all looked up at the sound of the Lodge door opening. Corinne stood chatting with staff before making her way carefully down the steps, art supply bags swinging on her arm.
“Hello there, children,” she called out. “Have you had a nice visit?”
“Magnificent,” John answered. “We’ve witnessed the rise and fall and rise again of the non-relationship of Jessie McIntosh and Michael Bell.”
Corinne made a face. “John, you grew into such a silly man, but I love you. You stay out of Jessie’s business. She’s a grown woman. I’m sure she’ll come to her senses soon enough.” She gripped the railing and pulled herself up the gazebo step. “Jessie, when are you flyin’ out?”
“Friday afternoon, after the children are all discharged.”
“Stop by for a bite to eat before you go, won’t you? You kids can visit before you leave.”
I smiled. We kids all lived in the same city and would undoubtedly reconnect shortly upon landing, but what Corinne wanted, of course, was for us to visit with her. I realized for the first time how lonely she must get, and I made a mental note to call and visit more often. It pained me to think of Corinne being lonely.
“It’s a date,” I agreed. “In fact, if one of you guys will forward me your flight information, I’ll see if I can get on the same flight.”
“Will do.” John bent down to hug me. I kissed Corinne on the cheek, and then Michael, too, bent down for a quick hug.
“Be careful up here, Jessie,” he said. “I’m still uneasy about you.”
“I’ll be fine.” I reassured him. I was touched at his handling of the whole situation. It couldn’t have been pleasant for him, but he handled it gracefully. “How about we plan on one
o’clock Friday? Does that sound about right?”
“Our flight is at seven p.m., so one o’clock will be great. We’ll see you then.” Michael gave my shoulders a final squeeze before they piled into the car. I waved at them as Corinne ever-so-slowly maneuvered the driveway. I couldn’t imagine a life without Corinne in it, but then again, I also hadn’t been able to imagine a life without Billy May, and here I was.
Chapter 17
My second night on the mountain I was even more exhausted than I had been the first, though I hadn’t thought that possible. I was physically exhausted from clambering around the mountain, that’s true, but even more, I was emotionally exhausted. For a woman who did her best to avoid emotions, I’d certainly been confronted with a plethora of them within a very short amount of time.
I retired early to my room to shower and change, looking forward to a quiet night of reading in bed. I’d brought a couple of books along and was looking forward to Hidden Passages: Tales to Honor the Crones. I wasn’t familiar with Vila SpiderHawk, but a friend had recommended the book to me, describing it as a celebration of middle-aged women. I certainly thought the description fit me, and I was hoping for some words of wisdom to assist me in my journey. After the day I’d had, I needed a celebration.
Fresh from the shower, finally comfortable in my sweats, I rooted around in my suitcase in search of the book when I once again came across Billy May’s trinket bag. Giving in, I picked it up. Obviously, it wasn’t going to leave me alone. Switching off the overhead light I climbed into bed, clutching the pouch, and turned on the bedside lamp.
For a moment I simply held it, caressing the worn leather. When Billy May was alive, she’d kept it in an old steamer trunk at the foot of her bed. As far as I knew, the trunk was still in our old apartment above the store. I wondered who had removed the trinket pouch from it. It must have been Corinne; she was the only other person who would have known its significance.
Tilting the lampshade to better illuminate my lap, I placed a pillow across my thighs before working the stiff leather string loose and emptying the contents. Sure enough, the age-old quartz sparkled in the soft light of the lamp. The coquina shells had lost much of their vivid color, looking more than anything like the soft pastel petals from a spring bouquet of flowers. I sifted them through my fingers before realizing the bag was not empty. It crinkled in my hand.
Curious, I held it under the lamp, reaching inside to withdraw a folded piece of notebook paper, the left edge fringed from being ripped out of a composition book. Billy May’s inventory book, I knew, the kind she’d used for years. I don’t trust them computers, she’d always said. But I do trust my own writin’. I smiled at the memory.
Carefully, I unfolded the paper, smoothing it against the pillow in my lap. Billy May’s looped handwriting greeted me, the same handwriting that had greeted me in the many long letters she had written to me during the years I’d been away. The letter in front of me was dated 8/12/09.
Dear Jessie,
It is a hot sunny day as I write this to you. The sky is blue and the flowers are blooming and everything seems right with the world. But little girl I have just come back from Dr. Hayden’s office and the news is not good. I know that I am dying. The new doctor, the young one who took over when Graham passed on, is a kind man. He broke it to me as gentle as he could.
I am not hurting yet though he says I will before the end. Right now I am just going to enjoy every last minute I can starting with finally getting on that airplane to come and see you. In my heart I plan on talking to you about some things when I get there but in my mind I am afraid I might not be able to do it. I have wanted to talk to you about these things many times but I never seem to know where to start. After all these years of not talking it is near about impossible to begin. I am writing it down for you in case I cannot bring myself to speak the words.
You know that your stepdaddy was hurting people long before you came along and you know that I was one of them people. Him and his friends attacked me that night when I was a girl. You know these things.
What you do not know is what made them come after me in the first place. I never told you that part. Corinne and me, we been friends for our whole lives. You know that too. But Jessie what I have felt for Corinne is different from the love you feel for a sister or a friend. Now days, people on the TV talk about it all the time, but back in them days feeling a love like that for another woman was just not done.
Them boys that attacked me seen me hugging Corinne. That was all I done, but they could tell how we was feeling. That is why they come after me the way they did.
I stayed away from Corinne after that. That night when she showed up at the cabin was the first time I had visited with her in thirty years. We both felt the same old things that night but we put it away. We did not want anybody to be hurt by us.
Time went on and you all grew up. John Paul passed on. After a while there was nobody left for us to hurt with our feelings. That is what I am trying to tell you. Corinne and me, we can feel these things without hurting anybody now. I have wanted you to know about this part of my life but I have had a hard time finding the right words to tell you. I hope I can find the right words the next time I see you but if I can’t at least you will have this letter.
Love for always and ever.
Billy May
I set the letter down and removed my glasses, wiping away tears. As insignificant as it may seem, I was hugely relieved that Billy May had wanted to share that part of her life with me. The gaping chasm I’d felt since John’s revelation at the funeral finally closed. She had trusted me. She had wanted to tell me. Knowing her as I had, I now understood her inability to tell me.
I was also profoundly saddened to realize the deprivation Billy May had gone through the majority of her life. How lonely she must have been, not only during the years she lived on the mountain but afterwards as well. Surrounded by friends, taking on the role of mother to a damaged child, Billy May had nevertheless been alone in the most profound of ways. You brought back the good years for her. I remembered Mr. Lane’s words from my first morning back in Cedar Hollow. I hoped with all my heart he was right.
I gently folded the letter and placed it back in the pouch, along with the stones and shells. As much as I wanted to curl into the soft linens of the bed, I knew sleep would elude me. I tucked the pouch back into my suitcase and changed into a fresh pair of jeans, retrieving my boots from under the bed. Maybe a walk in the cool night air would clear my head.
All was quiet in the Lodge and I wondered briefly where the children were. It was barely seven p.m., too early for them to have gone to bed for the night. Glancing across the common area and down the north wing I caught a glimpse of Sarah, one of the night staff, sitting in the open staff office at the end of the hall. She was bent over an open chart, pen busily flying. I thought of asking her where everyone had gone but I didn’t want to interrupt her work. Instead, I quietly withdrew and headed back through the common area towards the front door. I patted the pocket of my jeans to assure myself I had the key and let myself quietly outside, locking the door behind me. As I had hoped, the night was cold and clear, and I inhaled deeply, grateful for the fresh air.
The night world was calm, the leaves rustling in the gentle breeze the only sound as I stepped into the courtyard. I had no particular destination in mind, though having grown up in those mountains I knew better than to walk the forest trail alone at night. Instead, I turned towards the gazebo, thinking a brisk walk down the driveway would do me some good.
No sooner had I made my decision than I heard soft voices floating on the wind. Following the sounds around to the back of the Lodge, I made out the shadowy figures of the children, gathered around Bryan, the other night staff. Moving closer, I saw that he’d set up a telescope.
Sensing my presence he stopped speaking and turned in my direction. “It’s me,” I called out, not wishing to startle the children. “I thought a nighttime walk would be the perfect
way to end the day, but it looks like you guys had an even better idea.”
“Come and join us,” he called back, and the children echoed the invitation.
As I got closer I could see that Stacey was positioned for the next look through the scope. “What do you see?” I asked. My question was met with a volley of excited voices.
“The Big Dipper!”
“The Bear!”
“Orion’s pants!”
“That’s not his pants, silly, it’s his belt!”
“Same thing!”
“It is not!”
“Stacey,” Bryan cut through the voices. “Why don’t you show Ms. McIntosh what you were looking at.”
Stacey beamed, her glasses glinting in the moonlight, and I stepped over to kneel down at her side while Bryan adjusted the scope. “Perfect!” She called out when he had it just right.
“It’s the moon,” she said shyly, and sure enough it was, the craters and mountains clearly visible through the lens. “I never saw the moon like that before.”
“What do you think of it?” I pulled away from the scope to read her expression. She giggled.
“It’s weird! It’s got holes in it.”
I moved aside as Bryan helped the rest of the children line up for a look. Feeling movement by my side, I looked down to see Robby, his hand outstretched. I was pleased to see him; something about the little boy touched me.
Because I’d always known I couldn’t have children, I’d never allowed myself to think about how my life might be different if I had. But seeing Robby’s trusting face looking up at me, knowing his circumstances, I couldn’t fathom the choices his mother had made. I didn’t want to judge her; I knew from my own experience that life sometimes knocks us in a direction we hadn’t anticipated. But how could she have abandoned this little boy? She’d forfeited such a treasure, one I would have given anything to have.
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