In This Life

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In This Life Page 20

by Cora Brent


  “Hello Kathleen,” said Harrison. “We’re so glad you both are here.” His gaze rested on my daughter and I could see how emotional this moment was for him. I’d never given much thought to how shattered he must have been by the death of his only brother. They’d been very close.

  “Hello Emma,” he said, his voice catching.

  Emma stared at him, then looked up at me as if unsure whether she should respond to this strange man.

  The woman at Harrison’s side took the initiative, stepping forward.

  “Kathleen,” she said. “I’m so happy to meet you. I’m Delia, Harrison’s fiancé.”

  Her accent sounded vaguely Caribbean and instead of a polite handshake she enveloped me in a warm hug. I didn’t mind.

  Delia bent down to Emma’s level. “Hello, Emma. We’ve been waiting to meet you.”

  My daughter looked her over. “Your dress is pretty.”

  Delia laughed and hugged her too. “Thank you sweetheart.”

  Delia was charming and Emma was all smiles as she took Delia’s hand and followed her into the house. Harrison stayed back, by the door. He watched his fiancé pass by with his niece and then turned to me. An awkward moment of silence ensued.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for this, Kat.”

  “You already thanked me, Harrison. Anyway, I’m doing this for Emma. And for your mother.” I paused. “I’m still not sure about you.”

  He nodded and looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. And I’m sure you don’t want to hear it after all this time, but you were never just some girl to me. I was devastated when I lost you even though I deserved to. And I know I said a lot of terrible things.”

  He had. Harrison found out about Randall and me just before his brother died and he didn’t take the news well. I never got the chance to tell Randall I was pregnant. But in a moment of weakness I went and told Harrison. The last time we spoke he’d called me an evil slut, among other things. He said he and his family would have nothing to do with me, warned that he’d pay me off if he had to. I didn’t give him the chance. In the months that followed there were many nights when I’d lie awake, feeling the baby kick inside my belly and remembering the hatred in the eyes of the man I’d once thought I loved.

  “What happened between Randall and me,” I said, “was not planned, and we weren’t trying to hurt you. Don’t get me wrong, I was furious with you for making a fool out of me. In fact I was crushed. Harrison, I swear I wasn’t seeking revenge with your brother when I turned to him. But I know I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry about that.” I took a breath and looked at the house where Emma’s father had grown up. “I really did care about Randall. I wanted to help him.”

  There was no hatred in Harrison’s eyes right now. Only regret. “I can accept that,” he said. “If you can accept my apology.”

  I thought about it. “I think we can both let the past go and move forward now.”

  He smiled. “How about we go inside and introduce Emma to her grandmother?”

  I smiled back. “I’d like that.”

  Inside the house, Delia was listening to Emma talk up a storm.

  “And she’s so fun. And she makes me so happy. Roxie’s the best dog in the world.”

  Delia listened with a polite smile. “Roxie is your dog’s name?”

  “Yeah. She’s just Nash’s dog now. But she will be my dog.”

  Delia nodded. “I see. She sounds wonderful.”

  “She is.”

  Delia looked over at us while Harrison closed the front door. The house was just as I remembered it, flawlessly and expensively decorated. Harrison nodded at his fiancé and she reached out to take his hand.

  “Should we go in?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m sure she’s listening.”

  Emma slipped her hand into mine as we followed Harrison and Delia down a long corridor. There was a room at the end and the door was open. Delia looked over her shoulder and offered a smile of encouragement.

  Harrison poked his head in the door. “Mom?” he said softly. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” answered a high, quavering voice. “Are they here? Is Emma here?”

  Emma suddenly pulled back and looked up at me worriedly.

  “It’s okay,” I assured her and led her into the room.

  The woman in the bed only faintly resembled the fashionable middle-aged woman who’d smiled indulgently at her two rowdy sons across a table one Thanksgiving evening. Her head was covered by a scarf and the king sized bed only emphasized how her once stout frame had been ravaged by the cancer. Harrison immediately went to her side when she struggled to sit up. There were pill bottles and other medical paraphernalia collected on a small table and the room was very warm, probably for Mrs. Corbett’s benefit.

  Harrison carefully propped his mother up on the plush bed pillows and her gaunt face surveyed us. The only unchanged feature was the color of her warm brown eyes that widened when they landed on Emma.

  “Hello darling,” she said and held out her hand, beckoning Emma to come forward. “I’m your grandma and I’m so happy to meet you.”

  I’d tried my best to make Emma understand the reality of the situation. Her grandmother was very sick. She would look sick and probably wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. Emma was a sensitive child but she was also three and a half and unpredictable at times. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to all the emotion in the room.

  “Hi,” Emma said and willingly approached the bed. Emma and her grandmother examined each other up close for a few seconds.

  “How come you’re wearing a hat in bed?” Emma asked with curiosity and Mrs. Corbett chuckled.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. This would be all right. Everything would be all right.

  Mrs. Corbett told Emma she had something very special for her and motioned to Harrison to bring forward a large pink gift bag. Emma wasted no time getting the tissue paper out of the way and pulled out an adorable stuffed animal that kind of looked like a plush puppy version of Roxie.

  Emma’s eyes widened and she clutched the toy to her chest. “She’s bee-yoo-tiful,” my daughter said in an awed voice and I thought poor Mr. Ford might have just been demoted.

  There were tears in Mrs. Corbett’s eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

  Emma looked at the woman. “Are you sad?”

  “No, honey. I’m not sad. This is a happy day. I was just remembering how your father used to have a stuffed dog just like that.”

  “Is he here?” Emma asked.

  I flinched. Harrison glanced at me with a worried expression. I’d also attempted to explain Emma’s father to her but there were only so many complicated topics you could burden a preschooler with.

  “Emma,” I said gently, bending down to her side. “Remember when we talked about your father? About how he’s gone?”

  She nodded slowly. “Like Aunt Heather and Uncle Chris,” she whispered and I thought how unfair it was that she’d already been exposed to so much death when she scarcely understood the concept. She’d lost her father. She’d lost the people who were practically surrogate parents to her. And soon she would lose this grandmother she’d only just met. No, it wasn’t fair. But I had hope too. I hoped she wouldn’t forget that life is a fragile thing, to be cherished unreservedly.

  “That’s right,” I said and hugged her close, stuffed dog and all.

  Emma was quick to rebound and began bouncing her new toy on the bed. Suddenly she noticed Harrison standing on the far side of the room.

  “Do you live here too?”

  He seemed startled that she was speaking directly to him. “I used to. Now Delia and I live about fifteen miles away.”

  “Why?”

  “Because when you grow up you move away and find your own home.”

  “Why?”

  He smiled. “It’s just something people do.”

  Emma didn’t like that answer. “I don’t want to move away from my mommy.”

  I laughed. �
�Don’t worry about that anytime soon, Ems.”

  “Kathleen.” Mrs. Corbett was addressing me in a gentle voice. She held out her hand and I reached out to take it, noting how thin and frail hers was.

  “I’m sorry I never brought her to see you sooner,” I said but she shook her head vehemently.

  “No. You’ve given me an incredible gift. There have been so many misunderstandings.” She cast a sharp look over at her remaining son. “Let’s not have any more. I’m so grateful to you for bringing Emma here. And I’m very thankful that Randall’s child has such a wonderful mother.” She turned to Emma and beamed. “Emma, will you come sit close to me? There’s a book I’d like to read to you.”

  Delia took that as a sign. She reached for a faded children’s book on the dresser and handed it to Mrs. Corbett. I caught a glimpse of the title. It was Love You Forever and I figured it must have belonged to her sons when they were little.

  Emma settled herself and her new stuffed toy on the bed and prepared to listen to the story. Emma loved books. Even more than she loved strawberries.

  Perhaps not quite as much as she loved dogs.

  “Kathleen,” Delia whispered and I saw she and Harrison had left the room and were standing just outside the door.

  Mrs. Corbett began reading to Emma in a voice that was now surprisingly strong and clear. I stood up and backed out of the room. They were already so engrossed in the story they didn’t see me go.

  Delia was holding onto Harrison’s arm and I got the impression he was nervous. She looked at her fiancé as if urging him to speak but when he didn’t she forged ahead.

  “Kathleen, we don’t want you to feel pressured in any way. There aren’t enough words of thanks to express our gratitude.”

  She looked at Harrison again and this time he cleared his throat. “We’d love to see Emma again,” he said. “If that’s okay with you. She’s my niece and when I look at her I remember how much I loved my brother. And how much I miss him.”

  I looked behind me, into the room where Emma was hanging on every word her grandmother read to her. I’d been so used to having Emma to myself it almost felt strange to share her with another family. But I shouldn’t feel that way. This would be her family too.

  “I think Emma would enjoy that,” I said.

  Harrison looked relieved. “And if you need any financial help we’d be happy to-“

  “I don’t,” I interrupted, bristling. “I don’t need any financial help.”

  He backed off. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. We have no intention of intruding on your life or dictating terms. But Emma is Randall’s little girl and I just wanted to let you know that we’re here for her.”

  “And for you,” Delia added. “We’re here for you too, Kathleen. I’m really hoping we can be friends.”

  They looked so earnest, so hopeful. In the other room Emma and her grandmother broke into laughter.

  “I’d like to be your friend,” I told Delia and I meant it.

  The three of us stayed just outside the room for a little while longer, giving Emma and her grandmother their privacy to get to know each other. I learned Harrison had become a financial advisor and I had some trouble imagining the brash football guy I’d known in college sitting across a conference table and advising couples on 401K plans. But things change. People change. Delia was pursuing a PhD in biochemistry and planned to eventually become a professor.

  “That used to be my plan,” I said. “To become a professor.”

  She was thoughtful. “You still can. It’s not too late.”

  I considered the idea. “You’re right,” I said. “It’s not too late.”

  A hospice nurse arrived just before lunch to check on Mrs. Corbett. Her presence was a sobering reminder that the woman in the next room did not have long to live.

  Harrison thought his mother was getting too tired but she protested and begged if Emma could stay a little while longer. A compromise was reached where she agreed to rest for an hour while Delia made lunch. The adults enjoyed lemon chicken with quinoa while Emma munched on a grilled cheese sandwich with a side of strawberries. Emma delighted the table with tales from preschool and after I finished eating I excused myself for a moment to text Nash. He’d been a little apprehensive about this trip and I just wanted to let him know he didn’t need to worry about anything.

  Everything is fine. Emma met her grandmother and was gifted with a synthetic Roxie replacement. Thinking of you guys.

  I was about to stick my phone back in my bag but then decided on one more line.

  I miss you so much.

  When our roles had been reversed recently Nash had said that to me. I hadn’t said it back at the time even though he was constantly on my mind. I waited for a few minutes but there was no reply. Maybe he hadn’t seen it right away. Nash didn’t always keep his phone right by his side.

  Delia’s rich laughter came from the dining room, followed by Emma’s high giggle. I stayed where I was for another few seconds and just listened. We’d spend a few more hours here and then hit the road so we’d be back in Hawk Valley before dinner. I was already thinking I’d offer to drive Emma down here again real soon. The memories Emma was building today would be precious to her. She should have the chance to make more.

  I’d decided something else too. Before we went home tonight I’d stop to see Nash. I needed to tell him how I felt about him. If he didn’t feel the same it was better to know that now, while I might still be able to salvage pieces of my heart. If I fell for him any harder I wasn’t sure if I’d recover.

  “Mommy!” sang Emma. “Where are you?”

  “I’m here,” I said, smiling as I returned to the dining room.

  We were still deciding on categories when Kathleen’s mother showed up.

  “What’s all this?” Eleanor Doyle demanded to know after she barged through the front door. I guess that served me right for not locking it.

  She frowned when she saw all the boxes on the living room floor. Kevin was hunched down, scrawling on one with a black marker while Jane wrapped a crystal vase in bubble wrap.

  “Hello Eleanor,” Jane said.

  “Are you moving?” Kathleen’s mother asked me. I thought she sounded a little too hopeful.

  “No,” I answered. “We’re working on boxing up some of Chris and Heather’s personal effects. I figured it was about time and since Heather was your niece I thought we could use your help to decide what’s best.”

  All of that was true but I also had another reason for calling Kathleen’s mother. I was shamelessly trying to insert myself into her good graces because I wanted to impress her daughter.

  “Hey there, Eleanor,” Kevin chimed in.

  She looked in his direction and nodded before turning back to me.

  “The important things, the sentimental things, will be boxed up and stored in the attic,” I said. “But I’m guessing most of the clothes can go to charity.” I paused. “What do you think?”

  Eleanor continued to stare at me, then slowly nodded. “I think Heather would approve. And my church is having a rummage sale on Saturday. So anything you’re looking to donate I can certainly take off your hands.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, that would be great. I knew we could count on you.” I was piling it on a little thick and Kevin raised an eyebrow at me as if to say he detected a significant rise in my bullshit meter but Eleanor blushed and seemed satisfied.

  She offered to start in the master bedroom and sort through Heather’s things, which was a relief because I still felt a little weird being in there. I’d have to get over that. I couldn’t just close off the room forever and keep it as some kind of gothic shrine. It wouldn’t be healthy for Colin, for any of us.

  Jane followed Eleanor up the stairs with some boxes, leaving Kevin and me alone in the living room.

  I picked up a glass plate that was on a display stand on the end table. It looked old, probably an antique.

  “You want to box up all the break
ables?” Kevin asked.

  I nodded. “Most of them. Colin’s almost ready to crawl. Then he’ll be walking. So a lot of baby proofing is in order.” I picked up some bubble wrap. “This stuff will go in the attic for now.”

  “Nash.”

  I looked up and found my father’s old friend with a pained expression. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for awhile, about that night at Sheen’s.”

  “No need for that.”

  “Yes there is. You were right about Travis, no mystery there. But I need to apologize for what I said to you. I told you I thought you’d fucking grown up a little, implying that you were still the same reckless kid you always had been.”

  I tore off a length of bubble wrap. “I remember.”

  “I was wrong,” Kevin said flatly. “You’ve stepped up around here in a way that I didn’t expect. I see the way you are with Colin, how hard you’re trying. And I admire you, Nash. Your dad knew what he was doing when he put you in charge.”

  I saw him glance at a photo of my father and Heather on their wedding day. Their arms were wrapped around each other and their faces were ecstatic. I wished I’d been there that day. I wished I’d let go of whatever anger I’d been holding onto. I’d wasted so much time. At least there was no more anger left now. I realized suddenly that I’d forgiven both of them a long time ago. They’d found each other and fell in love and it had nothing to do with me. I should have said that. Now it was too late.

  Except it wasn’t. Because there was Colin. Perhaps that’s why they’d chosen me as his guardian. Maybe it was my father’s way of saying that he knew I wouldn’t hold a grudge, and that he had more faith in me than I’d ever guessed. They had to have known somehow, Chris and Heather. They’d been confident I’d step into this role if it was ever necessary. I’d never squander that faith.

  “Maybe we can go catch a drink sometime,” I said to Kevin. “Someplace other than Sheen’s.”

 

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