by Lynne, Donya
Compromise. A relationship was all about compromise.
But right now, she just needed him. She needed his arms around her. She needed his power, his strength, his stability.
In one brutal moment of clarity, she understood the truth. She didn’t need anything else but him. Just him. Without Mark, she was barely half.
Fishing her phone out of her purse, she dialed his number.
* * *
“Dinner was terrific,” Mark said to Antonio. “You’re one talented cook.”
“You two should compare notes,” Carol added.
He wasn’t sure he was ready to become best friends with Antonio, but he could start by getting to know the guy. He’d never given him a chance before, but anyone who could make homemade tortellini that incredible couldn’t be all bad.
“Sure,” Mark said. “I’m always looking for recipes I can steal.”
Antonio snorted at his light-hearted ribbing. “Only if I can steal your meatball recipe. I really hated you during Carol’s pregnancy. All she wanted were your damn meatballs, and I could never seem to get the recipe quite right.”
“Is that so?” He smiled at Carol as they stacked their dirty dishes.
Krissy cooed up at them and slapped her hands on the tray of her high chair. She had Carol’s blue eyes and her dad’s black hair. She was going to be a stunner when she grew up. He could only hope to have a couple of such beautiful girls of his own someday, but only if Karma took him back.
She had to take him back. He had to make her see he was no longer afraid. That he was finally all-in. Really and truly all-in this time.
Carol ruffled Krissy’s hair and kissed her forehead as she sat down beside her. “Poor Tony. All he heard about for nine months was about Mark’s incredible spaghetti and meatballs.” She leaned over and kissed her husband.
“So, yeah, Mark,” Antonio said, “The next time Carol’s pregnant, I’m getting that meatball recipe from you. I don’t care what it takes.”
“Only if you hand over your tortellini recipe. That was incredible.”
“Consider it done.”
The three of them had chatted more about the past during dinner, talking openly for the first time about what had happened. About how he and Carol had been so young. Too young. Neither knowing what they or the other really wanted. More apologies went around the table, and then, as is often the case over good food and good wine, the apologies and tension gradually gave way to laughter and pleasant conversation.
Carol asked about Mark’s job, his plans for the future, and Karma. He asked about life with a baby, their dancing, and their recent win in Europe. The conversation was an equal give-and-take, no one dominating, discussion smoothly flowing.
“So, when are you going to have more kids?” he asked. That was one thing they hadn’t discussed, yet.
They looked at each other, and Carol smiled. “We’re trying now.”
“Really?” He glanced at Krissy as she gave a random squeal of laughter. “What about dancing?”
“We’ll still dance for now, but Antonio wants to open a restaurant someday, and I’d like to have more time to raise a family. So we’re looking at making some changes in the next few years.”
Mark recalled the burst of flavors that had blown his mind from the first bite of Antonio’s tortellini. “Let me guess,” he said to Antonio, “you want to open an Italian restaurant.”
“Yes. Authentic Italian from the Motherland.”
“I think you’re on to something there.” He nodded at their empty plates.
“Thank you.” Antonio glanced at Carol, who smiled back.
Mark knew what she was thinking, because he was thinking it, too. When she opened the door tonight and let him in, they’d been strangers. Three people who had tiptoed around one another for eight years. Now, after a couple hours of good conversation and good food, they sort of felt like friends. Friends with a long way to go before they were completely comfortable with one another, but friends with potential, for sure.
But then, that’s how forgiveness worked. Truly forgiving someone lifted away not just the fear, but the resentment and animosity, too. It swept away all the inconsequential goo, leaving behind a clean beginning.
Mark wasn’t blameless in what had happened with Carol. He was as much responsible as she was. He couldn’t fault her without faulting himself, especially when he realized that this was the path their lives had been meant to take.
Maybe some good would come out of this now.
Carol and Antonio had just begun to clear the table while he kept Krissy entertained when Karma’s ringtone began serenading the room. Maybe it was cheesy, but he’d selected the 80s song Lady in Red as her ringtone. It seemed so fitting given how they’d met.
He pulled his phone from his pocket.
“Karma?
“Mark?”
Immediately, he knew something was wrong. She was crying.
Every cell in his body locked up as he shot to attention. “What’s wrong? Karma, are you okay?”
“I need you.” She sobbed. “My dad had a heart attack.”
Carol and Antonio stopped and watched him, concern etching their faces.
“I’m coming. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Where did they take him?”
She rattled off the name of the hospital.
“Mark, I’m sorry I got mad at you. I—”
“Ssshhh. Don’t worry about that right now. That’s the last thing you should be thinking about. Just hold tight until I get there, okay? I’m leaving Chicago now. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She whimpered, making a sound that sounded like “Okay.”
He paused then said, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Everything’s going to be okay.”
She sobbed. “I don’t know, Mark. It’s pretty bad.”
“Ssshhh. I’m on my way.”
He disconnected then turned to his hosts. “I need to go. There’s an emergency.”
Carol nodded. “Of course. Go. You need to be there.”
She and Antonio followed him to the front door, where she gave him a quick hug.
“Thank you for coming, Mark.” She didn’t need to say any more to express how important their conversation had been to her. She looked relieved, as if she’d finally forgiven herself.
Mark knew exactly how she felt. Finally facing the past had completely freed him. The air was clear again. “Thank you for dinner.”
Antonio held out his hand, and Mark shook it.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Antonio said. “And about those meatballs . . .”
Mark grinned. “I’ll e-mail the recipe as soon as I get the chance. But you’re sworn to secrecy. I’ve never given that recipe to anyone.”
“I’ll guard it with my life,” he said.
With a curt nod, he gave them each one final glance then turned and hurried down the steps.
With a wave out the passenger window, he hit the gas and sped away.
Karma needed him.
And he needed her.
And this time would be forever.
Chapter 36
We are made wise not by the recollection of our past, but by the responsibility for our future.
-George Bernard Shaw
Karma paced in a small waiting area in the hospital. It had been over two hours since she talked to Mark.
She bit her thumbnail as she crossed the room again. She had to have walked five miles over a ten-foot stretch of carpet since arriving here.
Mom sat with her eyes closed in the corner, finally silent. She’d cried herself out and had locked herself into prayer mode for the last hour. Johnny and Estelle sat on the other side of the room, huddled together, Johnny’s face hidden against Estelle’s shoulder, the baby sleeping in her stroller beside them. Johnny had broken into quiet sobs several times in the past two hours. Karma wasn’t used to seeing him like that, especially where Dad was concerned. Johnny had always nitpicked
Dad. He had been like sandpaper rubbing smooth metal, dulling the shine, streaking the surface with scratches. Yet now he crumpled under the possibility that they could lose their father.
When he stood, head bowed, shoulders slumped, shirt ruffled, and made his way from the room with a quiet word of reassurance to Estelle that he needed to get some air, Karma waited a moment then followed him.
She caught up to him at the elevator, skirting in just as the doors began to close.
Johnny was wiping his palms down his face but stopped as she rushed in. They exchanged glances.
His eyes were bloodshot. She imagined hers probably were, too.
After holding her gaze for several seconds, he glanced toward the floor and shuffled his feet.
Karma had been thinking a lot about Johnny since seeing him at their parents’ house, hanging out with Dad like they were best buddies.
“You and Dad have gotten closer in the last few months,” she said quietly.
He dragged in a deep breath and looked up at the blinking numbers above the doors. “Yeah.”
“Ever since he and I had a falling out.”
The doors opened, and Johnny wasted no time vacating the elevator.
She followed.
“What made you wait so long to make nice with Dad, Johnny?”
“Not now, Karma. I don’t want to talk about this now.”
“I’m not mad, just curious. Talk to me.”
She and Johnny had never had the best sibling relationship that ever was. As kids, he’d been horrid to her, teasing, making fun, instigating his friends to bully her at school. He’d been an awful little brother.
But something about Johnny was different. He wasn’t as cocky. He was nicer. Almost humble.
“Why are you so interested all of a sudden?” He passed through the doors that led outside the emergency room entrance.
“I just want to know. Dad and I haven’t been talking much, and now I see how close you two have become when the two of you have been at each other’s throats since we were kids. Is it so wrong I want to know what’s changed?”
Johnny paced to the side, away from the lights of the entrance. The sun had set an hour ago, casting the area in shadows.
Finally, he stopped and hung his head. When his shoulders shuddered, she knew he was crying again.
“Johnny, hey, it’s going to be okay. He’s not going to die.” She slid her arm around his shoulders.
The meager contact must have jolted him, because in a blink, he turned and crushed her to him as he sobbed against her shoulder. So sudden was his outburst that for a moment, Karma couldn’t breathe. Her whole body froze. Then her own emotions overflowed, and she hugged him hard, crying with him.
She and Johnny had never shown each other affection. They had never bonded over anything. They’d been at odds for as long as she could remember. Yet now they held each other the way a brother and sister should when faced with the knowledge that they were blood relations who had to rely on each other to get through the hard times.
“I always resented you, Karma,” he said between sobs. “You were always Dad’s favorite. He loved you better than he loved me. You always got his attention first, and I got what was left.” He coughed through another sob. “You and Dad went fishing together. You did things together. He never did anything with me.”
He was confessing. Purging what sounded like years of hidden pain. And Karma’s heart broke. She’d never known he’d felt this way. That he’d harbored such sorrowful, resentful emotions all these years.
Suddenly, his behavior made sense. The teasing, the bullying. He’d been lashing out at her out of jealousy.
She hugged him harder, rocking him. “Oh, Johnny, I’m so sorry. I never knew. Dad and I never meant to exclude you.”
There were few things as tragic as a grown man coming undone. Trying to maintain control in the face of such raw anguish was nearly impossible.
“And now that he and I have finally starting having a relationship, he’s in there”—he jerked his arm toward the entrance—“maybe dying, maybe dead already, and I’ll never get to know him. To really know him, Karma. Not the way you did.”
She directed him to a concrete bench and sat down beside him. “Johnny, you can’t think that way. He’s going to be fine. He’s going to make it. And when he does, he’s going to need both of us. You and me. We’re still a family.” She pulled him against her. “But no matter what happens, you’re still my brother, okay? I love you, and we’ll get through this together.”
His green eyes met hers, and he wiped his fingers over his face. “I’ve been such an awful brother. I’m sorry. I was just jealous. You and Dad were so close, and I felt like I was left out of everything.”
“I know. But the past is the past. We’re going to be better now. We’re going to make a better future. You, me, and Dad. We will.” She squeezed him. “You’ll see. Dad’s going to make it, and we’re going to be fine. Next fall, all three of us will get together every Sunday and watch football. And we’ll go fishing together and do all the things we never got to do as kids.”
He gave her a weak smile. “I can’t believe you actually fish. You’re a girl. Girls don’t fish. Do they?”
The comment came out of nowhere, kind of like a poorly timed punchline but in a poetically perfect way.
“Come with us next time, and I’ll show you how it’s done, baby brother.”
His face pinched, and a second later, he barked an abrupt laugh. “I don’t know why I said that. It just . . . I don’t know . . . it just came out.” He laughed again.
Unable to stop herself, she laughed with him. The maniacal laughter of two people who had reached their monthly limit of emotional insanity. This was the worst possible time to laugh, given their dad was inside undergoing life-saving surgery that may or may not be successful, and yet, in that precious moment between brother and sister, laughing felt as normal as breathing.
“Come on,” she said a few minutes later, “Let’s go back inside. See if there’s any news about Dad.”
He agreed and, with a bit more hope in his eyes, returned to the waiting room with her.
Unfortunately, there still wasn’t an update.
So, she settled into the seat next to Lisa, who took her hand and said, “He’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” She had to believe it, or she would lose her mind.
The minutes dragged. Every time she checked the clock on the wall, it felt like twenty minutes had passed when only five had. Little by little, the hour crept toward eleven.
It had been over three hours since she’d talked to Mark. Where was he?
Around ten after the hour, she closed her eyes. She was physically drained. Totally exhausted. Emotionally spent. Her only consolation was that if the doctors hadn’t come to give them news, yet, that was a good sign. If Dad hadn’t made it, the surgeon would have come in by now to tell them.
A few minutes later, still resting her eyes, she felt the air stir. A familiar electrical charge pulsed around her. A scent. Something recognizable.
She opened her eyes and sat up, glancing around, trying to understand where the feeling was coming from. A moment later, Mark appeared in the entrance to the waiting room.
“Mark . . .” Practically leaping out of her chair, she rushed toward him, crashing into his body as his arms engulfed her.
Her rock. Her foundation. Her strength. He was here.
He kissed her hair. “I’m sorry it took so long. There was an accident outside Chicago.”
He was here now. That was all that mattered.
“How is he?” he asked. “Is there any news?”
She reluctantly pulled away, shaking her head. “We’re still waiting.”
He directed her into a seat, never taking his arms from around her. As soon as she was seated, she buried herself against him again, unable to get close enough. He was so warm, so strong.
She latched onto him as if she would never let him go, and he tu
cked her face against his chest, holding her securely, making her feel safe. Protected.
He was her strength. She was his purpose.
She so totally got what that meant now.
Lisa finally took her leave, telling Karma to make sure she called as soon as she heard something, and for the next hour, she, Johnny, Estelle, Mark, and her mom sat in silence, simply waiting for word.
Another hour passed.
She could tell Mark wanted to talk to her. She could feel it. There was a subdued tension about him. Almost as if a hum of energy coursed in invisible waves around his body, encapsulating her, invading her, seeping into her soul. Maybe that was why she’d felt him before she saw him.
Whatever had happened in Chicago had changed him. He was different. He felt different. Not just physically, but emotionally. It was like he’d undergone a shift. He’d been off kilter before, his body not in perfect alignment with his spirit. Now, he felt perfectly calibrated, positioned one on top of the other. This was a new Mark. A changed Mark.
She was about to comment on it when the surgeon, still donning scrubs, entered the room.
In the flurry of activity that followed as everyone perked to attention and asked for news, Karma heard only two words. “He’s stable.”
Thank God!
Her dad was stable. He’d survived the heart attack, the surgery, and was now in recovery.
She breathed for what felt like the first time all night.
He was going to make it.
Her dad was going to make it.
Chapter 37
Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past in a hope for our future.
-Lewis B. Smedes
At almost three in the morning, she and Mark arrived home. The doctors had assured everyone her dad was doing well after surgery and that they would notify them immediately if anything changed. He was going to be sleeping for a while, so the best thing they could do was try and get some rest. Mom had stayed at the hospital, though.