But it was the first Saturday of summer, and her aunt and uncle had to attend the funeral of one of the founders of their church. Becca faked a stomachache. Her aunt considered not going, but she really wanted to take them her famous rum cake and visit with family and friends that she didn’t often get to see. Becca stayed in bed until she saw the dust settle as they drove to San Antonio for the graveside service. Then she rode as fast as possible to the bend in the river where she told John they’d meet.
She traveled on roads on which she knew no one she saw would recognize her, or if they did, they wouldn’t care why she was riding on their side of town. She skidded her bike to a stop and jumped from it, running to the big tree at the crook of the creek. John was fishing from a boulder that hung over the water. She sneaked up as quietly as she could, then slipped her hands around his eyes. John sat up straighter then tapped his finger on his chin, pretending to think who it could possibly be. “Hmm.”
She took her hands away.
“Oh, it’s just you,” he teased.
Becca slapped his arm.
“Just kidding,” he said.
“You catching anything?”
“Not yet,” he replied. “I’ve been here awhile,” he added, lifting his pole from the water. “See, the worm’s already been eaten off.”
Becca gave him a shove, knocking him from his perch into the shallow water, then ran away, knowing he would chase her. He did. She pulled off her culottes as she ran. At the water’s edge, she dropped the culottes onto the ground, revealing her new one-piece swimsuit before diving straight in. John pulled off his T-shirt, tossing it over his shoulder as he dove. He hit the water at the same time his shirt hit the ground. Becca surfaced ten feet from the shore and then looked around. She didn’t see John anywhere. She treaded water, in a complete circle. Then she screamed with a start when he grabbed her from beneath the water, pulling her under. They surfaced together and she splashed him to keep him at bay.
John tossed his head to get the hair from his eyes and wiped his face. “You think you’re so funny,” he said, dodging the water she was splashing.
“I know I’m funny,” she said, splashing him again.
John dove again, so she hurriedly swam toward the shore. He caught her under the water and pulled her back under. She kicked and freed herself, swam, then crawled onto the shore, laughing and gasping. When he surfaced he was holding his nose.
“Gosh, Becca, you didn’t have to kick so hard. I think you broke my nose.”
Becca looked up, wracked with guilt, and hurried back into the water. John looked away from her as she drew nearer. He turned when she was right beside him and he grabbed her, holding onto her tight.
“You!” she yelled, realizing he had baited her. “You tricked me!” she laughed, trying to free herself. He walked hurriedly toward deeper water, not letting her go, squeezing her harder. “I give,” she gasped.
John loosened his grip, but didn’t let her go. She twisted in his arms and wrapped hers around his neck, lifting her legs. He obliged her by cradling her against his chest. He walked through and out of the water. “God, you got heavier!” he moaned, as she was no longer buoyant.
“Did not,” she said, narrowing her eyes. She released him and stood, then rushed to the large rock overlooking the water and lay flat on it, allowing the warmth of the stone to help dry her. She lay on her arms, looking over at him as he pulled his shirt back on without buttoning it. He was only fourteen, but his body was lean and tan. In just the past year, he had grown another foot. His hair had grown darker. Not to mention he suddenly had a little matting of hair on his chest and around his navel, plus under his arms. She squinted as she watched him dress, marveling at how his newly-formed muscles rippled with every motion.
John had watched Becca as well. She had been his best friend all his life, but suddenly he was looking at her differently. He noticed things that he never paid attention to before. He watched her as she lay on the rock, looking at him. Their eyes met, and he suddenly felt a stirring he’d never known before. He noticed the soft features of her face, the curve of her beautiful nose. Her darkening ash blonde hair framed her face just perfectly as it fell, wet and matted, onto her shoulders. His eyes slowly traced the curve of her back down to the tip of her toes. She had become shapely, and suddenly desirable. When he held her before, in the water, he had felt her developing bosom pressed against his chest. It felt nice. His eyes traveled back to hers. They were still on him. Then they slowly closed.
John contemplated for a moment, then easily jumped up on the rock and lay beside her, facing the back of her head. He carefully, hesitantly reached across and stroked her hair, taking it into his fingers. Slowly she turned her head and rested her other cheek on the warm rock. She opened her eyes again. They were only inches apart, staring at each other, silently. His hand gently swept back her hair from her face, then delicately brushed her cheek. He lifted onto his elbow as his hand continued to caress her skin.
“I miss you, Becca,” he said softly.
“Me, too,” she smiled. “I wish it was like before, just you and me.”
“Yeah,” he said, rolling onto his back, staring into the sky. “We’ll run away,” he announced.
“Tell me again,” she pleaded. “Where will we go this time?”
He thought for a moment, then turned his head to face her. “Canada,” he said. “I read that if you move to Canada, they can’t come get you. We could move there and live there. You can dance in the ballet. I’ll work on a farm.”
A small grin crossed her lips as she rolled onto her side and up onto her elbow as well. “What if I want to work on the farm?”
John wriggled his nose and sniffed. “Then I guess I’ll have to learn to dance,” he grinned.
Becca matched his grin.
John leaned toward her, his features softening as he watched her lips. They were small and pink and perfect. He closed his eyes and gently kissed her. He had never kissed a girl before. He had seen it in the picture show, and even remembered seeing some of the teenagers in town do it, so in his mind he tried to emulate their actions. Her lips were soft and dry. He slowly leaned back. They both opened their eyes at the same time.
Becca licked her lips and they suddenly glistened in the sun. He touched them with his forefinger. “Tell me it’ll always be you and me, Becca.”
Becca smiled sweetly then lay onto her arm still facing him. “It will always be you and me.”
John lay beside her, propped on his arm, their elbows touching and their foreheads kissing. He caressed her face as her fingers delicately brushed his. “You’re the best part of me,” he said. “It’ll always be you,” he smiled as they both closed their eyes.
“Promise?” she asked, softly, pleadingly.
“I promise,” he said, almost in a whisper, before they drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 36: November 12, 2000
John opened his eyes just a moment before Becca did. She smiled weakly as she brushed his cheek with her cold hand. “I remember,” she said softly. He moved closer until their foreheads kissed, stroking her cheek. “Tell me more,” she said, almost in a whisper.
So he told her about the bus trip down and all the things he had remembered over the past day on his journey to see her, about two small children racing across the riverbed, sunning themselves on their rock. About tag with Taffy and hide and seek in her grandparents’ old red milk barn. About lying on the dock counting tadpoles.
John told her how beautiful she had looked in her wedding gown, and about their weekend at the lake with the boys. And as the last breath left her body he caressed her cheek and thanked her for being his best friend and for loving him through his life and for believing in him when he didn’t believe in himself. And then he kissed her one last time, and told her goodbye.
Chapter 37: November 16, 2000
The cool fall breeze blew gently against the three century-old oaks that had grown from one base, rustling their crisp fall l
eaves. A few fell free and gently floated to the dying grass below. The old farm had been sold and sold again, a victim of the 1980 Russian Grain Embargo. It was now a multi-tract subdivision, with a small event center overlooking the banks of the Pedernales River in the exact spot that Becca’s family home used to sit. The homeowners’ association had been generous in offering them the use of the facility to have their final celebration of Becca’s life.
There were friends and family, including both of John’s daughters and his grandchildren, present to say goodbye. John had gone home the day after Becca’s death the same way he had come, on the bus. When he arrived home, he called Jessica and Jennifer and invited everyone over for dinner. That day he ordered out, simply because he could. When they had arrived at his house, they were all very curious. First, he rarely invited them over. They usually just showed up to check on him. Secondly, he rarely invited them all over at one time. The girls had spent all afternoon on the phone speculating what was up; wondering if he was sick.
And the mystery wasn’t answered right away when they all arrived. He met them each at the door, with hugs. And not the kind of hugs where you greet a friend you care about or even one you don’t care that much for, but feel obligated to embrace. No, he met them each with a full, long hug. A warm, loving hug and he didn’t let go first like he usually did. And he hugged his son-in-law. A first. That’s when the girls were sure he was dying, so they braced for the worst.
When they sat down for dinner, John asked his son-in-law, Neal, to say the blessing. The girls stared at each other, even after everyone else bowed their heads, miming their surprise and concern. John smiled to himself, knowing their curiosity was piqued; he knew his daughters. While Neal carved the roast, John told them where he had been and why he had gone. He told them about David and Becca and Marissa and things he’d never talked about, maybe because it was easier not to, or maybe because it was too painful to remember. He talked about his father and his mother. He talked about things buried since childhood that had always been painful to talk about, much less think about. He apologized for having been so cryptic when he left. Then he apologized for being reclusive all the other days. He promised that he was going to be better about the things about which he’d been remiss. Then he told them that since they’d never met Becca, he wanted them to meet her family.
They all drove to Fredericksburg together, and he felt more relaxed and more alive than he had in thirty years. When they arrived, D.R. and Johnny’s families greeted his family as if they were old friends. They chatted and looked at pictures, even some that John had brought, including those that he had left buried in a shoebox for thirty years. When it was time, they walked from the small event center to the rebuilt wooden dock from which Becca and John had fished a hundred times and dived hundreds more.
Becca had been specific in her will, requesting cremation. She wanted some of her ashes sprinkled on David’s grave, and she wanted John to sprinkle the rest in the Pedernales at their old dock. D.R. and Johnny and William had all prepared something to read before they sprinkled some of her ashes into the river. John had written something, as well, but once he started reading, he found he couldn’t finish. He tried to keep himself composed as he looked at the faces of Becca’s sons and his daughters. Then he looked down at his beautiful granddaughter, Amanda, who was standing at his feet, pulling petals from daisies and dropping them into the river. He couldn’t help but smile.
Suddenly he had the words that he had needed to say for so long.
“Sometimes in life we don’t know why things turn out the way they do. For so many years, I questioned what I did to make God keep punishing me by taking away the people I loved. But I was asking the wrong question. I should have been asking Him, ‘What have I done to be so blessed?’” He looked into the faces of his family. “I wasted too many days, too many years, thinking about the things that I had lost, instead of thanking God for the things, the people, that He had given me. I’m old now, and I’ve spent too many years wishing I could go back, instead of making the most of the amazing life that He gave me.” John looked at his daughters. “I’m not going to make that mistake any longer.” He slowly poured some ashes into the water. “Thank you, Becca, for reminding me,” he added softly. “No regrets.”
Both his daughters wiped their eyes and held each other’s hands. John poured the rest of Becca’s ashes into the river, as Amanda continued to drop yellow flower petals in with them. She looked up at him.
“She likes flowers,” she said, smiling.
John caught himself, as he choked back the tears. “Yes, sweetie. She does like flowers.”
When they finished, John stood at the end of the dock staring out over the water, as the rest of the family turned back for the clubhouse.
“Dad, you coming?” Jessica asked from behind.
“I’ll be in directly,” he said, not turning to face her.
“Come on, Amanda,” she said, holding out her hand.
“I want to stay here with Grampa,” she said, pouting.
John turned. “She’s fine, sweetie.”
“Okay,” she replied. “You behave,” she said as she walked away.
John looked down at his granddaughter. “Was she talking to you or me?” he asked with a smile.
Amanda shrugged as she dropped the last of the flowers into the water. She looked up and spied C.T. climbing across the rock ledge. She jumped up and ran toward him, kicking off her shoes as she ran, catching up with him. “Race you to the other side,” she challenged.
John smiled as he watched them play like they’d known each other all their lives. He drew in a deep breath as he removed the letter and his glasses from his pocket.
It’s amazing how things work out. I’ve raised my boys, and they seem happy. They are all so bright and strong, and I’m so proud of them. And now I have grandchildren! Can you believe that? With all I’ve tried giving them all these years, I can’t help but be sad for the things that they’ve lost. For the things I’ve lost. But I promise you I will never again look back with regret. You’ve given me the greatest gift you could ever have given me. You’ve been my closest friend, John. Now here’s my gift to you, John. No regrets. No more looking back with sorrow for what we’ve missed because there’s so much we have in the here and now to be blessed with, John. As for you and me, we were always meant to be as we were, and I’ll love you until the end of time. But I couldn’t leave this world without you knowing what you’ve meant to me. I can’t leave without telling you how much I love you. I pray every day that God will watch over you and your family, as he has watched over me and mine. I’m ready to let you go… Let me go and say goodbye, my dear, my love. Always Yours, Becca xxo
John closed his eyes and lowered his head as he carefully refolded the letter and put it back into his pocket. He looked as Amanda called out her challenge.
“You’re on,” C.T. said, picking up his pace.
John watched them as they rushed splashing through the shallow water on the embankment. He smiled. Her blonde hair glistened in the afternoon sun. C.T. slowed as if he was trying to lose.
Amanda raised her arms and put her hands on her hips. “Beat by a girl,” she laughed, as they turned and raced back.
A hand grabbed John’s backside, and he turned, startled.
He smiled at a very familiar face. When she saw his perplexed look, she grinned. “What? Expecting someone else to be grabbing your butt?” she held out her hands. “At your age? Give me a break.”
John hugged her, not letting her go for many moments. When he finally released her, he stood back, holding her hands. He tilted his head as he eyed her up and down.
“Yeah, honey, it’s all me. No tune-ups on this bod.”
He shook his head, unable to muster the words.
Marissa smiled back. “Thank you,” she said. “I work hard to keep this,” she said, patting her own backside.
“Well, you look good, as always.”
She eyed him up
and down. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“I thought you were—” he began.
“Dead?” she finished for him with a smirk. “It will take a lot more than this old world to knock me off.” She took his arm and turned with him at the end of the dock, looking out over the water. “I heard she waited for you. That you were with her when she went,” she said as she leaned against his arm. John didn’t say anything. “It’s as it should have been,” she said softly. “Some things come full circle, you know?”
John glanced at her. “Still reading my mind?”
“I’ll leave that one alone.”
John turned to watch Amanda and C.T. race back across the flat escarpment that spilled into the river and on up the hill and to the building behind them. “Yeah, they do,” he said softly. He patted her hand with his. “There’s something I need to say to you.”
Marissa squeezed his hand. “There’s nothing you have to say that I don’t already know. She turned to him and as he looked into her eyes, his heart smiled. “I’m glad you are…” he began.
“Not dead?”
John laughed. “Yeah, that too.” The wind blew, and he reached over and brushed her hair from her face, gently stroking her smooth cheek. He winked as he held her arm closer. “Let’s go inside. It’s getting chilly. Besides, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.”
“Is he single?” she asked.
John laughed as they walked down the dock and into the crisp fall grass. “Didn’t you just bury your last husband?”
“Honey, that was five years ago. You were there. But in Texas you can marry up to five times,” she quipped. “So, I’ve still got one chance left to get it right. Know any takers?”
John shrugged, crinkling his lips. “Maybe,” he said smiling before shaking his head. He held her arm close, leaned over and kissed her cheek. “You’re still an amazing woman, Marissa.”
“That’s what number four said, right before he had his heart attack.”
“Okay, I’m probably going to regret this, but where did he have his heart attack?”
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