I let Ella run with the business plans and boy did she run.
"You sure you don't need my help?" I yelled down the basement steps.
"I don't need it." Her voice echoed back. "But I always want you near me.”
"Patrick wanted to meet up with Matt and I tonight. Should I go?"
"If you come and kiss me first."
We finished our dessert in the dimly lit restaurant. Matt asked the waiter for another water. Patrick and I did the same.
"So," Matt said. I knew what would come next.
"You wanna know if Heidi and I are together?" Apparently Patrick knew too.
Matt nodded and shrugged. Then sipped his water as he motioned for Patrick to tell us. I swear Matt had the mind of a woman sometimes. Maybe even most times. He loved relationship details. I feel uncomfortable asking people what kind of underwear they buy and how many times they have sex a year. Not Matt.
"We're just friends." He cleared his throat. "Best friends. But just friends."
I smiled. "Come on. Are you trying to make yourself believe that?"
"We see the way you look at each other." Matt slipped the waiter his credit card. I knew he'd try to pay for the entire meal. He always did.
"I'm not gonna lie. I fell in love with her. She knows it, but she wanted to stay committed to Andy and she's trying to stick to it." He sighed. "I don't know how or why we met, but if anything, I'm going to be there for her until the day one of us dies."
"What are the chances?" I imagined Ella's face the first night I finally kissed her.
"The chances of what?"
"Of you losing your wife and Heidi losing her husband and you both falling in love when you both vowed not to?"
"I don't know. What are the chances?"
"Tell me this,” Matt said. “What was your relationship like with your wife?"
"Honestly?" He rubbed his facial hair, repositioned himself, and looked down. "It was hard."
"Because she was dying?"
"No, because she wanted to die." He exhaled. "I gave my life to that girl. Just couldn't fix her. I did love her though. Loved her with every ounce in me."
I leaned forward. "What were you trying to fix?"
"She had a lot of trauma from her past. I wanted to help her heal, but it's almost as though she didn't want to heal. She loved me. And I promised my life to her. But we were never lovers."
"You mean you never had sex? Not even once?"
"Yes." Patrick sipped his water until only ice cubes were left.
"Why?"
"She was raped by her father as a child. She never wanted me to touch her. Sometimes I'd reach for her hand and she'd flinch." He shook his head as though the very memories would fall to the ground and disappear if he shook hard enough.
"So it was like being married to your best friend, but no romance?" I said.
"We had romance. Just not in your typical Ella Rhodes way."
I smiled. "Understatement."
"Gavin has a lot to live up to," Matt said.
I laughed. "I'd dress in a Prince Charming outfit and parade around in a horse drawn carriage if she asked me to." Once our laughter died down I looked at Patrick. "Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"If you didn't have sex or touch, and you didn't feel loved in return, how did you love her so much?" I held up my hand. "Wait. I know that sounds bad. I don't mean it like that. I guess what I'm asking is, how would you define the love that you guys had?”
Patrick tilted his head and squinted, absorbed in memories. Matt crunched an ice cube as we waited for him to answer.
"Well," he said. "I'm not sure I can explain what we had."
"Why did you marry her?"
"Sometimes things just don't make sense to the world. I think love is one of those things. The more we try to think about it and define it, the more we distort it with ourselves. Our own opinions of love. But for us, I don't know, we were connected. We didn't have much in common. We argued a lot. I tried to fix her and she resented me for it, thinking I didn't love her for who she was. But I loved her for who she was. She just didn't know herself."
"How is it different with Heidi?" Matt said.
"Heidi." He smiled. "She is strong. There’s something mysterious about her, but in a healthy way. I can’t explain it. Does that make sense? She has been through a lot, but she handles it well. She's different than my wife was. She's happier. She has her down moments, but she genuinely wants to be better. To grow."
"No, I mean, how do your feelings for her differ?"
He thought for a minute, then said, "Heidi and I have a chemistry I never had with Emily. I tried to make myself believe we did. I sent her flowers, love letters, practically devoted every waking moment to her. But she never returned the love. I often wonder if it took me so long to get out of bed after she died because I had spent those years of my life at her feet. I forgot there was life outside of her." He closed his eyes and took a breath. "Anyway, Heidi felt the same way. Her and Andy had a great relationship, but it never had a chance to grow deeper. It was still new and fresh. A young romance that died too soon. That changes a person though. Makes them look at life differently. I think what Heidi and I have is something deeper. It's almost like falling in love backwards. Starting deeper and maybe one day the romance and excitement will set in. Or maybe we will be friends for life. Nothing more."
"Wow." Matt looked around the room. "And all this time time I thought Gavin and I were the only guys like this."
"Like what?" I said.
"Guys who aren't into one night stands and really want to love a woman the way they deserve. That's why it took me so long to commit to Lydia. She's beyond perfect, and she deserved the best. Until I knew I could give her what she deserved, genuinely, I couldn't do ask her to marry me.”
"Yes," I said. "There's a shortage of men who don't think with either of their heads as much as they think with this." I patted my chest. "You know what other guys would call us, right?"
Patrick laughed. "A choice five letter word that begins with a P and ends with a Y?"
Chapter Ten
I walked through the door. So eager to see Ella. A few hours away from her tortured me. I found her in the kitchen. Tired eyes. Hair clinging to her cheeks.
She saw me. An envelope fell from her hand. Landed by my foot.
"How could you?" She picked up another envelope from the counter. "I didn't open yours." She flung it at my chest. "If you would've asked I would've read it to you. Unlike you, I have nothing to hide."
Arms at my sides, dangling there like broken limbs, I tried to speak.
"Say something. Please. I'm trying to deal with all of these secrets you have. I really am. I’m an open book and the love of my life won’t let me get past chapter four.” Her volume increased. "I know I have my own issues, but please. You are a grown man, Gavin. Stop acting like a child."
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Not even to tell her that I hadn't read her letter. That I loved her. That I was sorry. That I wanted to open up to her, but didn’t know where to start.
She closed her eyes. Tilted her head back. "Say something, Gavin. Anything."
I didn't want to be irritated with her. I really didn't, but her words didn't help. "I don't think I'm acting like a child." I should've walked away. Or at least kept my mouth shut.
"That's all you have to say? It's not even that you took the letter. I’ll share anything with you. It's that you didn't tell me." She inhaled and looked at me. Made eye contact for the first time I walked in. "I don't like secrets. I want to know you.”
I bent down and picked the envelope up. Turned it over. Addressed to me. Probably the last letter he ever wrote.
Ella kneeled beside me. “I know this is hard for you.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“I’m sorry.” She touched my hand. “I’m just overwhelmed. I want to be your best friend. You have to open up to me.”
"No," I said. “Don’t apologize
. It’s my fault. I'm sorry. Sorry for everything. I know I'm not the knight in shining armor you were hoping for."
She pulled a hair off my shoulder. "Your armor is a little rusty, but with a little work it will look good as new. Not like this princess is so great either."
"You are to me."
She smiled and pressed her forehead into my shoulder. I put my arm around her and pulled her into my chest. We held each other on the kitchen floor.
"I still think you're acting like a child though." She kissed my cheek. "Can you please read the letter and move on from this? I doubt your grandfather wanted you to sit around and dwell on it."
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of."
"What?"
"Moving on. Writing 'the end' and forgetting the story."
My phone rang.
“You can pick it up,” she said.
“You know how I feel about answering the phone when I’m with you.”
“You’ll have to get used to it sometime. Now that we are going to be working together you’ll be around me all the time.”
I looked at the number. Didn’t recognize it. “It’s probably Harold Kessler. He’s been calling from random numbers and leaving messages.”
“What do the messages say?”
“Don’t know.”
“You don’t listen to them?”
I rubbed my head.
“Let me listen.”
“I really d—“
“Don’t make me break out the indian burn.” She laughed. “Seriously, let me listen.”
I handed her the phone. Too tired to argue my way out of it. She pressed a few buttons and held the phone to her ear. I could hear. All five messages she listened to. Same thing. “Gavin, please call me. I just want to talk to you once and I’ll leave you alone after that.”
Ella slid the phone into my hand. "Call him."
"And say what?"
"Whatever you want." She kissed my fingers. "I will be here for you. It's not that bad. Just a phone call is all he wants from you."
I stood. Walked to the couch and took off my shoes. "Can I read the letter instead?"
She propped her head up with some pillows and hid her feet under my legs. "Sure."
"And if I read this letter do you promise not to ask me to talk to that man?"
She held up her pinky. I linked it with mine.
The letter looked aged. Hadn't been a year since he mailed it, but the yellowed envelope and frayed edges said otherwise. I tore a corner off and slid my finger inside. Ella's eyes, on me, were bright now that the tears subsided. I tried to smile.
Holding my breath, I ripped open the top and pulled the letter out. Only one sheet of paper. I expected a novel for his last words. Not a paragraph.
Ella wiggled her feet under my body. "Open it."
I obeyed. Blue ink formed a single paragraph. My eyes glazed over at the first three words. Crying scared me. Not because I wanted to pretend to be all tough and never get hurt. I'm not a fan of the "suck it up" mentality. Tears scared me because I held so much inside. For decades. Releasing a few tears, I worried, would break the dam. So I blinked away the droplets on my eyes and read aloud so Ella could hear.
Dearest Gavin,
I forgive you. Please don't let it eat at you for the rest of your life. Live. If not for yourself, do it for me. That's the one last thing I ask of you. Live. Please accept that I don't hold this against you. I only have one request of you. Go to the old apple tree we used to swing on. I buried a box there before my health declined. I had a feeling you'd avoid my death, so I prepared something for you. Go there as soon as you can and do everything exactly as I have written. Please.
Till then,
Pop
Chapter Eleven
Of course Ella insisted on driving to the apple tree at the crack of dawn. I knew she would. I begged her to stay the night with me, but she also insisted on her Jane Austen policy. And because I loved her more than anything on the planet, I conceded to both.
We let the windows down as we drove to Lancaster County. Spring air revived us, along with Third Eye Blind and Michael Jackson. As I twisted and turned down country roads, we sang along and held hands. When Meatloaf came on we sang as loud as possible. Ella climbed onto her seat and stuck her head out of the sunroof. Hands outstretched, face toward the sky, hair tossed in a million directions, she inspired me. Inspired me in more ways than I can express.
Finally, we pulled up to the place Pop and I had parked so many times before. I parked under an oak tree and opened Ella's door.
"This is beautiful." She placed her hand over her eyes and looked around. "How did you find this?"
"Pop owns this land. His house was right over there." I pointed across the hills to a large, secluded colonial house with ivy climbing the sides. "That's where I grew up."
"He owns all of this?"
I breathed in the lilac scent. Then closed my eyes and imagined Pop putting me on his shoulders and running at full speed. We'd both tumble and laugh as we rolled down the hill. He couldn't do it once he hit eighty-five, after his heart attack. So we walked down together. His arm linked with mine. Took us forty-minutes to get to the same apple tree that we ran to in five.
I didn't mind. Loved every second with him. Just like I did with my Ella.
She walked to the blooming lilac. "I love this smell."
"Pick some off," I said, walking toward her.
"I couldn't." She leaned in and inhaled. "I always feel bad breaking branches. Look at it." She smiled. "So full of life and beauty. If I cut some off it will smell good for a few hours, but lose all of its life."
I moved the hair out of her face and ran my fingers along her cheek. I stopped at her chin and pulled it to mine. "I love you more than I did yesterday."
She closed her eyes. I kissed her. And stopped. And kissed her again.
Ten minutes later we raced down the hill. Like kids again. She pulled her skirt up as we crossed a small stream, then walked up the other side.
When we reached the top of the hill, Ella gasped and covered her mouth. Eyes darting around. Taking it in. She looked at me and laughed. "I can't believe you grew up here. This is amazing. It's like the Secret Garden meets Huckleberry Finn."
I laughed. "The apple tree is over there."
"Wow. I thought apple trees were done blooming by May?"
"It's a Rome Beauty apple tree. Pop planted it for my grandmother when they moved here. She loved the pink and white flowers that came every year around this time, but she hated the apples."
Ella smiled and walked toward the tree. "What's wrong with the apples?"
"They're okay. Better for baking pies. Pop and I weren't so good at that, so we let the animals eat the fruit and gave some away to the neighbors. Or he'd let me set up a stand on the side of the road and sell some fruit. Never made much, but it was fun."
"I love this place, Gavin." She smelled a flower from the apple tree. "Who owns it now?"
"No idea. Never saw his will, if he has one. Don't know how much he owed on the place. I wouldn't want to live here though. I want a new life with you."
She sat on the tire swing and lifted her feet. "So little Gavin sat on this swing?"
I walked behind her and gave her a push. "He did."
My hands shook. Beads of sweat dripped down my neck when I saw the mound of dirt next to the tree, underneath the carvings I made as a kid.
Ella hopped off the swing. "Ready?"
"I forgot a shovel."
"Have no fear." She shook her purse and pulled out a small shovel. "I come prepared."
"You are too much."
"It's the fallout from my type A organization skills. Hoping to get rid of that a bit and be normal again."
I took the shovel and sunk it into the earth, trying not to think too much about what I would discover.
Ella sat on her knees next to me. The shovel hit something hard. I dug around and pulled out a box. Plain wood. About the size of a ruler on both s
ides and three inches deep.
"It's locked," she said.
I wiped the dirt off the top and flipped the box upside down.
She read aloud.
Wait until you find her, because I know you will. When you do, take this box and find the key. My will is inside and it's the only copy. And there's something else that's important for you to read. You need to find the key. First clue: the road where they found you when your dad left.
I stood. Without the shovel. Or the box. "This is ridiculous. What kind of game is this? I don't care about the will. I want nothing. He gave me plenty and I gave him nothing. I can't take more."
Ella sat in the dirt, box in her hands, smile on her face. "This is beautiful."
"It's not. It's manipulative. I'm not going back to that road. I've spent my life avoiding it."
"That's exactly why this is so beautiful."
"Why?"
She stood in front of me, eyes sparkling as specks of sunlight danced on her face. "Because he knows you better than anyone ever did. He knew you wouldn't come to him when he died, so he did this. Maybe it's a way for you to relive your memories with him."
"I relive them all the time."
"Let go, Gavin. Just let go."
"Of what?"
"Of all that bitterness. Just let it go and let's have fun with this."
He probably told me to wait until I found her because he knew she'd make sure I followed the directions until I found the key. Pop never lacked brains. Wisest person I'd ever known. Quiet, soft-spoken, and barely said a word unless necessary. He knew when to speak and when he did everyone listened. Except my dad.
Down from the Clouds (The Unspoken Series) Page 6