John looked back at her, fighting tears, the words burning into his heart.
The bartender walked out with the bottle of champagne and a to-go container of strawberries. John didn’t even see her. She watched the two of them talking, realizing it was an intense conversation, so she stepped away.
Marissa spun her lighter on the counter. “We’re a pathetic bunch,” she said, shaking her head. “We each want someone we can’t have.” She downed the rest of her glass. “I’m sorry, John,” she said. “I’m not telling you this to hurt you,” she said, shaking her head slowly. “I’m saving Becca from herself, by telling you.” She lowered her head, trying to catch his attention and keep it. “She’s the only innocent one in all this. She has enough painful memories in her life, don’t let this be one of them. Don’t let this be the last one with you,” she said, wiping her tears again.
John felt his face getting hot with anger. “Why are you telling me this?”
Marissa forced a smile. “Because I believe you love her enough to not let her do this. I trust you love her that much.”
John glared at her, before turning to the bartender. “How much?” he asked.
The bartender handed him the ticket and he tossed two twenties onto the counter. “Keep the change,” he said. She handed him the bottle, two glasses and the container of strawberries. “Thank you,” he said forcing a smile.
“John,” Marissa said. “Don’t let her do this.”
John glared at her once more as he walked away.
“John,” she called after him. “She’ll never forgive herself,” she yelled louder. “She’ll never forgive you.”
Marissa turned and sobbed into the palms of her hands. She motioned to the bartender for more napkins without looking up, blew her nose on them and tossed them aside. “Hit me,” she said.
“Ginger ale?” the bartender asked.
Marissa nodded and lit another cigarette, inhaling deeply. “Goodbye, John,” she said, as she watched him get onto the elevator from the mirrored bar in front of her. When he disappeared she stared at herself in the mirror, then dropped her head to her arms and sobbed.
John stared at the scuffed wooden floor in the elevator. He felt such rage he wanted to scream. How dare she? How could she? John slowly looked up at the polished metal wall, at his distorted reflection. He realized he was crying and felt foolish. He angrily wiped away the tears, pacing in a circle. Suddenly as the door opened, a couple that was laughing was startled by his presence and quieted. They waited for him to step off, as he stood there momentarily confused. He was still on the first floor. He hadn’t even pushed the button. When John didn’t step off, they looked at him strangely and then at each other before stepping on.
“Third floor,” the man said, since John was standing before the panel.
John reached over and pressed three.
He could hear the couple giggling and kissing behind his back, whispering loving things to each other. He moved the strawberries into his other arm and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. His head was starting to hurt. He glanced slightly to his right and saw the room number on their envelope. The elevator dinged upon arrival, and the couple began to step off the elevator.
“Excuse me,” he said, startling them again as they passed.
“Are you the couple in room three ten?”
“Yes,” the man answered, holding his wife’s hand.
John drew in a deep breath and smiled. “Compliments of management,” he said, handing them the champagne, glasses and strawberries.
The couple’s faces lit up. “Really?” They looked at each other. “Thank you so much,” they said, as they kissed and hurried to their room.
John stepped back onto the elevator and pressed one. He sat down on the cushioned bench inside the elevator, dropped his head into his hands and wept.
Chapter 34: November 11, 2000
The elevator dinged, and John looked up. Two nurses stepped off, without even looking at him and then walked together toward the nursing station on Becca’s floor. John wiped his eyes, then took his glasses and the letter from his pocket. He took his handkerchief from his back pocket, wiped his glasses, and then blew his nose on it before folding it and returning it to the same pocket. Carefully, gently he opened the box and slowly took a letter from another envelope and unfolded it.
My Dearest John,
So, here we are once more. After all these years, you came to my rescue, again, when I felt no hope. You saved me from the desperation and loneliness that had slowly invaded every part of me since David died. You held me, and you made me feel whole again. I woke up in your hotel room that next morning, alone and naked, still waiting for you. And yet, I knew at that moment, it was the right choice for both of us—for your marriage, for your new family. You could have told me, John. You should have told me. But in the end, you not coming back to me that night, made me strong enough to do what was right. God finally gave me the strength to let you go. Because as long as I couldn’t let you go, I couldn’t let David go. I simply couldn’t move on. And I needed to move on, John, as you had moved on.
I pray for you and your family. And I pray to God that the thought of us never comes between you as it never came between David and me. But know, that no matter how much I loved David, before he and I were, WE were. We were the best part of each other, John. I’ve loved you since the beginning of time, John. We were intimate in a way that goes beyond physical touch. It was that special relationship that was our very survival through the years and a bond that no one can tear apart. The years and the miles mean nothing because our hearts will always be one. And nothing but death can separate us. And even then I’ll love you till the end of time. So, now it’s time to say goodnight John, because I can’t bear saying goodbye again. I’ll love you always and forever because I’m Always Yours, Becca xxo
John took out his handkerchief again and blew his nose. He refolded the letter before returning his glasses and handkerchief back into their respective pockets. The elevator dinged again, and he looked up. D.R. and Johnny got off the elevator with a third man.
D.R. stood beside the young man with salt and pepper hair. “Uncle John, this is the hospital chaplain.”
“Bobby Lee, sir,” he said, shaking John’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He turned to the boys. “I’ll be back up to visit with your mother in the morning. I always look forward to our time together. She’s a hoot.”
D.R. smiled. “That she is.” He offered his hand again. “Thanks for checking in on her. And thank you for your prayers. It’s hard for her not to be at church. Your visits help.”
“My pleasure, son,” he said, shaking D.R.’s and Johnny’s hands.
As he walked away, Johnny walked into the room while D.R. waited outside with John. “Have you been in to see her yet?”
John shook his head. “They were just finishing giving her a bath and changing her bed.”
As if on cue, the nurse aid walked out with the dirty linens. Johnny followed her out.
“She’s awake if you want to see her,” he said. “I told her she had a visitor, but didn’t tell her who.”
D.R. patted John’s arm. “You go in. We’ll wait out here. You deserve a little private time after all these years.”
John drew in a deep breath and wiped his palms on his jeans. He smiled at both of the boys. “Thank you,” he said. “If you hear things being thrown, then you’ll know to come get me out, right?”
They both laughed. “Right,” Johnny said.
John gave a little wave as he shuffled toward her room. Slowly he pushed the large door open, turning to push it closed when he walked in. He closed his eyes and leaned against the door with his head and his hands. “Please, God,” he whispered. He wasn’t even sure what to pray. He wasn’t sure how to pray. It had been so long. He just knew he couldn’t do this alone. He drew in a deep breath and turned.
As he rounded the corner, he saw her small frame under the blankets. His heart raced faster with e
ach step. Well, if he had a heart attack, at least he was in the right place. He continued around the corner, and then he saw her. He would know her face anywhere. Time had been good to her. She looked thinner, but not gaunt. She had a wrap around her head, but he could see a few wisps of hair from underneath. He continued to shuffle around the bed, moving toward the chair at her bedside. He accidentally bumped her dining table, and it squealed to a stop inches away. She opened her eyes suddenly, disoriented. “David?” she called out, then blinked and turned her head slightly.
“No, it’s me,” he said softly, as he walked closer to the bed until he was leaning over her.
Becca looked up at him, smiling faintly. Her hand reached up and touched his cheek. “I knew you’d come,” she said. “I knew.”
He reached over and stroked her head gently.
“Took your time about it,” she growled.
“I don’t move as fast as I used to,” John quipped.
“Try being hooked up to these contraptions,” she said, holding up her arm.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
“Still a horrible liar,” she replied.
“You used to think I was charming. All the widows on the block think I’m charming.”
“You’ll always be that,” she smiled, motioning for her water. He took it from the table and helped put the straw against her dry, cracked lips. She closed her eyes as she drank, holding his hand to steady the straw. When she was through, she pushed it away, and he placed it back on her tray table.
“Sorry I took so long.”
She adjusted herself in her bed until she was comfortable. “You came. That’s all that matters.”
John pulled the chair closer and then sat beside her. “I’m here as long as you need me,” he said with a sad smile.
“Still trying to take care of me after all these years?” A tear ran down the side of her face.
“Of course. That’s my job, remember?” He watched her as she looked straight ahead at the wall. “Besides, you’ve always been right here,” he said pointing at his chest. “And right here,” he said pointing at his temple. “And trust me, at my age, I’m lucky to keep either of them working to minimum capacity.”
Becca smiled through more tears as she turned back to him. “And you’ve always been right here,” she said, pointing at her chest. “And right here,” she added, pointing at her head.
Neither of them spoke for many moments. Then John leaned in, tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said, almost in a whisper.
“Shh,” Becca said, putting her finger to his lips. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. But none of that matters. I know we both forgave each other years ago for what was said and for what wasn’t.”
“None of that matters,” he repeated, his hand against her cheek. “What matters is you keeping your strength and getting better.”
“I’m not going to get better, John.”
“Don’t talk like that. Of course you will.”
Becca waved her hand. “I’m dying, John. And I don’t have much time,” she said, tiring quickly. “But I had to tell you…”
“I already know. I’ve always known. Don’t you see? There’s nothing I didn’t already know. No regrets. We’re fine,” he said, taking a Kleenex from her tray and dabbing her cheeks.
“No, I wanted to see you. I had to tell you I was sorry, and I had to tell you goodbye.”
“Ah, Becca,” he said with a tilt of his head.
“And I want you to say goodbye, and I want you to leave,” she said firmly.
“I’m not leaving you ever again,” he said.
“You have to,” she said, exasperated. “I never wanted you to see me like this. That’s why,” she began, sobbing and turned away. “I didn’t want you to see…”
John stood, leaning over her. “See what?” He patted her hand. “See what, Becca?” John didn’t move until he slowly turned her face with his hand. “See what, Becca?” he smiled. “I still see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. I still see the most beautiful woman I’ve ever loved.”
“You should go, John.”
“That’s why you sent me the letter, right?” he asked. “Tying up loose ends? Unfinished business?” He stood up straight. “How could you have thought for one moment that I wouldn’t come?”
“I’m tired, John,” she gasped, waving her hand again.
John took her hand before she could wave him off.
“I don’t want you to see me die,” she sobbed.
“No ma’am,” he said firmly. “You’re not going to do this to me again. You can’t send me away this time,” he said as he handed her the tissue box. “I came here because I wanted to see you. I needed to see you. I stayed away all those years because it’s what you wanted. I didn’t call you because you asked me not to. I didn’t’ write because you told me you wouldn’t read them. Then I found your letter. What was I supposed to do? What about what I wanted?”
John sat back down. “I’m tired, too, Becca,” he exhaled. “After all these years, you aren’t going to try and tell me if I still love you, I’ll leave you again. It won’t work this time. It’s because I still love you that I came. And it’s because I love you that I’m staying.”
Becca put her hand closer to his on her bed. “I’ve hurt you so badly, and you’ve always been so good to me.”
“Shh,” he said, taking her hand. “We’ve hurt each other. But that doesn’t matter anymore. So get used to me being here, old woman, because I’m not going anywhere.”
Becca squeezed his hand with the little strength she had left.
“Unless you are physically able to remove me from this room, I’m here to stay.”
Becca smiled. “How can you still love me after all these years?”
John smiled. “Do you really have to ask?”
Becca shook her head slightly.
John leaned over and kissed her forehead again as she closed her eyes. John moved the chair closer and helped her adjust her bed until she was leaning against him as he leaned on the pillow beside her and took her hand.
D.R., Johnny and the nurse came in to check on them. Becca smiled weakly and assured them she was just fine.
“Quit fussing over me,” she said breathlessly.
D.R. leaned over her and kissed her forehead. “I love you, Mama.”
With much effort, she lifted her hand and brushed his cheek. “You look so much like your father,” she smiled.
D.R. kissed her again before letting Johnny say goodnight.
“Bye, Mama. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, okay?” He put his forehead to hers. “You behave yourself, alright?”
Becca brushed his hair back. “No promises,” she grinned. “I love you, son.”
“Love you too, Mama.”
“You are welcome to stay with us this evening,” D.R. offered, turning to John.
John shook his head. “Your mother and I still have some catching up to do,” he smiled as he looked into her eyes.
D.R. looked down and saw they were holding hands. His smile grew as he looked back up at John. “Call if you want to stay,” he offered. “You’re always welcome.”
“Thank you, son,” John replied.
“Willie’s driving up in the morning, mama. He said he’d bring you that sausage biscuit you love, so eat light,” he grinned.
Becca nodded.
The boys slowly waved their goodnights as the nurse finished her duties. Becca had her lower the head of her bed, before she left them alone again.
Becca turned her head on her pillow as John moved her over just inches, so that he could lay on the bed beside her, their faces just inches apart on the pillow. She moved her hand to his face, caressing the gray stubble on his unshaven cheek.
“Look at this. After all these years, you finally got me into your bed.”
Becca smiled. “Yeah, well, don’t expect much,” she quipped.
“Same here,” he smiled, kissing her forehead. “Sti
ll feels nice.”
Becca closed her eyes and smiled. “Yes, it does.”
He continued to hold her hand. She talked about her sons and her grandchildren until she was out of breath. Then he told her about his daughters, and Amanda and his grandson, David. He told her about his short-lived marriage; what worked, what didn’t. Then he told her about his neighborhood and his home and he even told her about the Schultze sisters.
He moved to get up, but she gripped his hand with what little strength she had left. “Don’t stop,” she said softly. “Tell me everything,” she whispered. “Tell me about us,” she said, closing her eyes. “Tell me a perfect memory of us.”
John remembered as he closed his eyes and smiled.
Chapter 35: June 26, 1954
Becca rode her bicycle to the river. It was upstream from where her family farm had been and a little further than she was usually allowed to go, but John said he found a better place to swim and she was dying to try it. That, and she wanted to see him again. They wanted to see each other. They were in different schools now and wouldn’t be in the same school again for another year, when she started high school. But every week, one of them found their way to the other.
John and his father had moved to a small boarding house on the East side of Fredericksburg. His father eked out a living in the orchards outside of town from May through August. The same orchards Becca’s father used to work in. They lived miles away from each other, and for the first few months they would ride their bikes to see each other after school every day. But when her Uncle Jimmy found out, he had forbidden her to go. He called John’s father scum of the earth and other names he would never repeat to the other deacons in his church.
So Becca lied. She would tell them she was going to visit her friends Marissa or Theresa. What she hadn’t known then was that her Aunt Betty and Theresa’s mother were in the same quilting social group. Her aunt didn’t tell her uncle that she knew Becca had lied; she would simply keep her busy with chores and school work, mostly to keep John and Becca apart, and save her from her uncle’s belt for lying and breaking his rules.
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