Remember This

by Patricia Koerner

  “Of course. I know you’re still fragile, but I’m just putting it out there as something for you to consider.”

  By the time summer came and the school year ended, I felt almost normal again. I say ‘almost’ because I would of course, never again be the same, but I had my life back. I even felt strong enough to end my counselling sessions with Sarah. I came up for tenure and got it. Matty came for his summer visit and he and I and Guillermo went to another baseball game and a picnic with some of Guillermo’s colleagues and their families. Afterward, I took Matty to California with me to visit Dad. It was so good to see him and Mabel. Dad had just finished a role in a TV movie. It would be his last. He told me then that he was retiring from acting and that he and Mabel were moving to Monterey to enjoy a peaceful, easy, low-stress life. I helped Dad pack and to sell most of Mother’s paintings that were left. We both felt we had kept her best.

  I spent a day with Laurie and thanked her for helping me through everything. I didn’t want to upset her, so I never told her the full extent of what had happened to me, but I did say that Frank menaced and threatened me and that John had stepped in. I assured her that it was all over and I was now recovered. Laurie wanted to find a book to give James for his birthday, so we made the rounds of the bookstores in the area.

  “I’m so happy that you and John are friends again,” she said as we browsed through the sports biography section of Waldenbooks. “He was so heartbroken when you cut him off. I knew if anyone could help you break free from Frank, he could. That’s why I told him everything. After you told me what was going on with you and Frank, I was frightened for you and I wanted to go up to Salt Lake City to be with you in case Frank did some crazy thing. James said ‘No way.’ He was afraid I’d get hurt. He said that if I was really sure that you were in danger, I needed to contact the Salt Lake City police and let them handle it. I thought about doing that, but I worried it may just make things worse, so I turned to John. I take it that he convinced Frank to get lost.”

  I chuckled and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Yeah, you could say that.”

  I spent the last two days before I returned home on Catalina Island with John. I could have exploded with joy, being with him again after three years, after all that happened in that time. In those two days, we cemented the bond between us. We made it a celebration -- of my getting tenure and of both John and I surviving what was possibly the worst time of our lives. In the years since then, we never again talked about that time. It was something I didn’t ever want to re-live. For a while I sensed that John was troubled by how close he came to killing another human being, but I know now he eventually made peace with himself.

  John’s playful side came through once again, a side of him I had sorely missed. After lunch one afternoon, he wanted us to build a sand castle on the beach. I felt a little silly, but I went along to please him. Soon, I lost myself in the sheer fun of it. Our masterpiece didn’t last long, though. Almost as soon as we completed it, the tide rolled in and washed it away.

  48

  The next June, Guillermo and I drove to Seattle to attend Matty’s high school graduation. Matty wanted to attend the University of Utah and once he was accepted, we made plans for him to move to Salt Lake City and live with Guillermo and me.

  We went first to Monterey to see Dad and Mabel’s new house. It was near the shore, only a ten minute walk. Dad and Mabel said they walked there nearly every day and never tired of it. The sea, the beach, the sky were all a little different each time. I hadn’t seen Dad this happy in years. I could have sworn he looked younger.

  In August, I told Guillermo I was going to Moab to attend a conference and then some of us were going to visit Arches National Park. In fact I was going to Moab, but not for a conference. John was shooting a movie there, A Father’s Heart. He was playing the father of a young boy dying of cancer. We stayed together and when he wasn’t on the set, took in some of the interesting sights. One day we went to Dead Horse Point National Park. Another day, we went to Arches. We had to go early in the morning, as the temperature there at that time of year could exceed one hundred degrees by noon. We passed a number of rock formations with names like ‘Organ’ and ‘Elephant Butte.’ I thought of Danny and how he would have loved to paint them. We hiked to the Delicate Arch and decided then to rest a while before going on.

  John seemed subdued as we took in the view. “Are you tired?” I asked him. “Do you want to go back?”

  “No. I’m all right. I just can’t stop thinking of the scene we shot yesterday. It was the one in which my son dies. It was so hard to do. I kept thinking of Robby, seeing his face. I cried during the scene, but after we cut, it was hard to stop.”

  I rubbed his shoulders a minute and then put my arms around him and held him. I was ready to lend strength if he needed it, but I could feel strength and confidence coming from him when before I’d have expected self-doubt. Months later, when the movie aired, I regretted it was only a TV movie because that new inner strength made his performance, I think, the most heartfelt, the most moving of his career.

  When I returned home, I resumed work on a song I was writing for Don Matthews. After Daily Grind ended, he quit acting and started a production company. Don contacted me and asked me to write the theme song for his company’s latest project, Keeping Faith. I was flattered that he wanted me to be part of the project. Right before I went to Moab, I received from Don a synopsis of the story and some other notes he added that he thought would help. I thought it was a wonderful story and a number of ideas came to me even while I was still in Moab and I floated these by John to get his feedback. Now, I worked steadily on the song and within just a few weeks, I had completed it and made a demo recording for Don.

  Keeping Faith was released just in time to be included in that year’s Oscar nominees. I was thrilled that my song was nominated for Best Original Song. I invited Guillermo to attend the Award ceremony with me, but his response was, “I’m going to be busy with work. Besides, I don’t have any interest in being around a lot of stuck up movie people.”

  “Fine,” I said. I thought I’d give Guillermo a chance to share something special with me, but if he wasn’t interested, it would be his loss. I thought of asking Matty to accompany me, but he wasn’t really enthused about it either and he did have an important exam scheduled then that he couldn’t miss.

  I e-mailed John and told him that I would be attending the Oscars alone and that I wanted us to spend time together if possible. I was a little disappointed at not winning, but I loved the movie and told Don he should be proud. When we arrived at the after party, Don received a message that his young son was sick. I told Don and his wife not to worry about me and to leave if they wanted to. Don left me with his business partner, Jerry Critchfield. A group of us were gathered at a table with drinks and a light meal when Jerry looked up at someone approaching the table from behind me. He jovially waved them over. “Come join us. There’s plenty of room,” he said.

  I froze when I saw that it was John and Rachel. Neither Jerry nor anyone else at the table had any idea that John and I even knew one another much less about our relationship, so I was grateful that John followed my lead and didn’t let on. Jerry made introductions and then said, “When Hannah here isn’t writing Oscar worthy theme songs, she moonlights as a music professor at the University of Utah.”

  I looked quickly at John and Rachel’s faces. John’s was serene, but I saw a nasty expression on Rachel’s. I knew right then she had put two and two together. In a split second, it was replaced by an exaggerated, phony smile. The conversation resumed between Jerry, myself and the others at the table, but Rachel sat silent, staring daggers at me. John left the table and I assumed he was going to get food for himself and Rachel. However, when he returned, he said to me, “I’d be honored if an Oscar nominee would have this dance with me.”

  “Of course. How gracious of you,” I said, as formally as I could. When he led me out onto the dance floor, I noticed him nod at
the band leader and the band began playing Lady in Red. As we danced as far away from our table as we could, John bent down close to my ear.

  “I love your sexy red dress,” he whispered. “That’s why I gave the band leader a large tip to play that song for us.”

  I melted into John’s arms and put Rachel out of my mind. I said, “I’ve ached for you so. I can’t wait until tomorrow night.”

  “I’m going to be thinking of you in that dress until then.”

  I worried that Rachel would follow through with her threat to ruin John now that she knew my identity, as it was part of their deal that she never know. John wondered too, and prepared to respond to whatever move she made. He told me about the particularly vicious confrontation they had during which John had to walk away to avoid hitting her. She decided ultimately to back down to spare their children the trauma and, I suspect, to retain the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed. Not long afterward, he told me, she insisted John move out of their bedroom and ceased having relations with him.

  My own life continued pretty much as it had been. Guillermo and I were more roommates than spouses, but we lived together fairly harmoniously and occasionally we would do something as a couple or as a family when Matty joined us. In 1999, I worked with Terpsichore on another album, this time Christmas pieces from around the world. It was released in time for the holidays that year and was Terpsichore’s most successful album.

  49

  John’s mother Louise suffered a heart attack in June of 1998 and was diagnosed with congestive heart failure. John and his sister Alicia wanted their parents to move in with one of them. Initially it was Alicia, who lived with her husband and two sons in Annapolis, Maryland. However, Alicia’s older son had health problems stemming from his premature birth and she and Erik were soon in over their heads. John then went back to Washington, sold his parents’ house, which they’d been renting out, and moved them to Los Angeles.

  In his e-mails to me and when we were together, John talked about how the situation, while distressing, allowed him to spend time with his parents and grow closer to them. Once, they told him that they had seen me on television at the Academy Awards.

  “How unfortunate,” Louise said, “that you two didn’t end up together.”

  “I really enjoyed those jam sessions we had,” added Robert.

  John told me he was so touched by this that he very nearly told them that he and I were still in a relationship, but then thought he’d better not. I’d missed them also and was touched too, that they even remembered me after so many years.

  In April of 1999, Louise had a second heart attack. She survived only a few hours afterward. The whole family was heartbroken, especially John and Robert. I wanted to go pay my respects, but for the sake of discretion, I did not. It wasn’t long before Robert then began to decline. A lifetime of smoking had taken its toll on him and he had emphysema. He had managed it fairly well for some years, but after Louise’s death, it got worse and John feared that Robert no longer had the desire to fight it. He was in and out of the hospital all that fall. He was home for Christmas, but was back in the hospital right after New Year’s. He died on January 21st, 2000.

  When John phoned to tell me, I was with a student. Normally, I would have asked John to phone back, but he was so upset, I couldn’t put him off, so I had him hold while I told my student that I had a family emergency and rescheduled our meeting.

  I wanted to go to California to be with John after the funeral, but he assured me that he would be all right, that I shouldn’t take time off. Although neither of us said so aloud, we both wanted to avoid any unpleasant scenes with Rachel.

  In the following months, I kept in close touch with John. I worried about him. He loved his parents and had been close to them all his life. He kept insisting that he was working through everything. I sensed that he was struggling, but I also knew he was determined to be strong for his children.

  Around mid-May, Laurie phoned me. “I saw John yesterday,” she said. James and I ran into him at Caputo’s. He was there eating alone at a table in back. When he saw us, he was friendly and talked to us for a minute, but Hannah, he looks awful, like he’s been through a wringer.”

  “I’ve worried about him ever since his parents died,” I told her, “but he keeps telling me he’s doing all right.” I started to cry, but I forced myself to swallow the tears.

  “Don’t believe it. He probably doesn’t want you to worry. Come to Los Angeles as soon as you can -- please. He needs you. I know if you were here, it would help him.”

  I e-mailed John and told him I missed him and wanted to see him. I told him I wanted to get away for a bit and suggested we spend a few days in Mazatlán. It was the off season so it would be peaceful, with few tourists. It took some effort, but I finally convinced him to make the trip with me. Talking to him, I could sense his unresolved grief. It was palpable. Laurie had been right. When I met John in Los Angeles, he looked as bad as Laurie had said. All I could do was hold him. I couldn’t say anything except finally, “We need to hurry or we’ll miss the plane.”

  When we landed, it was almost nightfall. The hotel I booked was near Olas Altas Beach and I thought John might want to take a walk along the beach that night, but he begged off.

  “I’m just so tired,” he said. “Can we wait until tomorrow?”

  I watched him as he undressed and got into bed. I could see that his fatigue was more from the burden of his grief than anything else. I sat beside him, wanting to offer words of comfort, but none came, so I kissed him and left him to sleep.

  The next day, I got him to take that walk with me on the beach. We saw a large sculpture of jumping dolphins. “Monument to the Continuity of Life,” I read aloud from the plaque. The title seemed apropos. We went swimming in a beautiful little cove a short distance away. The warm water caressed our bodies and I felt stress and tension slowly melt away. There was something, I knew, to the belief in water’s healing power. I remembered back to when we traveled with the free school people and one of the women cast our horoscopes. I don’t remember now what she told us save that both John and I, having been born under water signs, would always be drawn to water and be happiest when we were near it. When we returned, John seemed somewhat less weighed down. He even wanted to try some of the seafood the region is known for. Over the meal, I tried to draw him out, to get him to talk about his parents, but he was evasive and instead turned the conversation to work and our children.

  That night, I woke to hear John crying. Few things are more heartbreaking than to witness the grief of someone you love. I went over to his side of the bed where he sat and sat down next to him. For a few minutes, I stroked his back, hoping to sooth him. I said, “John, please tell me what I can do for you.”

  “Hannah, I never thought I’d miss them so much.” He wiped his eyes. “I know ‘life must go on’ and all that, but I can’t seem to be able to propel myself forward.”

  “You will. But first, you have to stand still and just let yourself feel the pain before you can move on. At least, that’s how it has been for me.” We lay back down and I put my arms around him and cried with him. I never left his side the rest of the night.

  In the morning after breakfast, John seemed better, so I suggested we hire a boat to take us out to see the dolphins. After a moment’s hesitation, he agreed. It was a hot day and as we walked to the dock, I was glad that I remembered to bring sunblock.

  The dolphins were delightful to watch. Racing and jumping, they looked as if they were competing to see which of them could jump the highest. The water was so clear, we could see the sea turtles gamboling about as well. I looked over at John and was glad to see him laugh at their antics.

  That night, I lay beside John, still feeling warm and languid from lovemaking. I hoped that he had felt my love for him and that it would help him pull himself out of his grief and realize that he still had a lot to live for. I felt him stir next to me.

  “Are you all right?”
I asked.

  “Yes. You know, after losing Mom and Dad, I wondered if I could ever feel … you know … that way … again.”

  I lay my head on his chest. “I know how hard it must have been for you.”

  “I was blessed to have them as parents. I’ve known that all my life, but when I moved them to California, I got the chance to know them; not as Mom and Dad, but as Louise and Robert, and really know what wonderful people they were. When Mom died, I worried about Dad because he took it so hard. I spent as much time with him as work allowed. Remember that trip to Hawaii we took last year? Well, we went because Dad wanted to visit Pearl Harbor. It was something he’d wanted to do for a long, long time and I thought fulfilling this wish would do him good. One night, after Rachel and the kids were in bed, he and I went to a bar where we sat and drank until the place closed. Dad told me about his time as a POW, things he’d never spoken of before, not even to Mom. He had held all that inside himself for so many years and finally decided that it was time to share those memories. I was so engrossed in helping Dad through his grief that I repressed my own. When he died, too, it all came crashing down on me.”

  “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. Laurie, bless her heart, worried about you and called me.”

  John chuckled and drew me closer to him. “Yes, bless her, because if you hadn’t come to me, God knows how I would have been able to get through this.”

  We flew back to Los Angeles the next day. I had several hours before my flight to Salt Lake City. John took me to see his parents’ graves. I worried a little that this would bring on a fresh wave of grief, but I was relieved to see that instead, it seemed to bring him some closure.