I rested my jean-clad legs across his lap and he laid his hand on my knee. We shared stories about all the rock concerts we’d been to in our lives. U2 topped my list, while Chris was partial to Billy Joel. Later, we searched through my entire CD library, sat on the floor in front of the stereo I’d had since the nineties, and played all our old favorites from our younger days.
Before we realized how much time had elapsed, it was 1:00 a.m. and Chris was afraid that if he didn’t leave, he’d fall asleep on my sofa and miss their flight.
“I should go,” he said, running his hand down the length of my calf and stroking the top of my foot.
“I know.” I rested my forehead on his shoulder. “I just wish we had more time. What I wouldn’t give for one more week with you.”
He shook his head. “It would still be just as difficult at the end of it.” Lifting my hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it and forced himself to rise to his feet.
With knots of dread burning in my stomach, I escorted him to the door.
Was this it? I wondered miserably. Would we not see each other again until next summer? Would this magic between us still exist by then, after a long winter apart?
We stood inside the door, not speaking, facing each other in the dim light from a small accent lamp on the hall table.
“I don’t want to do this,” Chris said with a shake of his head. “It’s going to kill me to say good-bye to you.” He pulled me into his arms.
“It’s killing me, too,” I replied.
He held me close where I could revel in the musky scent of his skin and the soft cotton fabric of his shirt against my cheek. The clock ticked steadily, mercilessly on the mantle in the dining room.
My heart seemed to match its cruel rhythm until I couldn’t take it anymore. I raised my face and felt the touch of Chris’s lips upon mine. I clutched at him desperately and wished I could devour this feeling, keep it forever in my soul—for somehow he had reached deep inside of me to the girl I once was, before I knew the meaning of sorrow and tragedy. I remembered what it felt like to be young and passionate about life and everything that lay ahead. I was fearless.
Was it just nostalgia? Or was it something more? Did it even matter?
Suddenly he broke away from the kiss and held me at arm’s length. “This is crazy,” he said. “I can’t just get on a plane and leave you.”
Feeling dazed from the kiss, as if I were floating in a fog, I shook my head. “We have no choice. You have to be back at work on Monday and Logan has his doctor’s appointment. He can’t miss that.”
“I know but…” Chris looked me straight in the eye. “I’m in love with you, and this is not just some meaningless summer fling.”
“What are you saying?”
He paused. “I don’t know exactly. I just know that I want to be with you, but that presents problems because I can’t just pack up and leave Logan. I can’t uproot him either because all his doctors are in Seattle and he’s comfortable there, and Katelyn would never allow it. But would you consider moving out West? I know this is your home and you love it here—so do I—but…” He glanced around the entrance hall. “But could you leave this behind? Or maybe, I don’t know, keep this house just as a summer place?”
The idea seemed positively reckless. “I don’t think I should be making decisions like that at 1:00 in the morning, after half a bottle of wine.”
He bowed his head and nodded. “You’re right. We should be sensible. Take some time to think about it.” His eyes lifted. “But I know this for sure—I want you in my life, Sylvie. And Logan’s too. We could get married.”
My eyebrows flew up and I laughed. “Are you insane? We’ve only spent a few weeks together.”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “We’ve known each other forever. I know who you are and I believe you know who I am. Please, just think about it.”
A warm glow took form inside me and I wrapped my arms around Chris’s neck. “This is nuts, but I will. I’ll think about it.”
He kissed me tenderly on the mouth and held me for many moments before finally tearing himself away and walking out the front door. I followed him onto the veranda where the night air was fresh and cool on my skin and the crickets chirped noisily in the grass. I could hear the frogs croaking. It was like a symphony out there.
“I’ll call you tomorrow night,” Chris said as he descended the steps. “That’ll give you some time to sleep on this.”
“Safe flight.”
I waved at him as he pulled out of the driveway, and I felt a rush of optimism that was completely out of character for me and left me positively buoyant.
Chapter Thirty-nine
“If you say no, I’ll have to shake you until your teeth rattle,” Cassie said the next day while I worked my way around the pub, setting tables for the lunch hour. “Guys like that don’t come along every day, and obviously he’s head over heels in love with you.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked, returning to the bar to fetch more cutlery.
“Of course not. You’re my best friend, and that means I want you to be happy.”
I set the cutlery on a tray and carried it to the table up front. “I want to be happy, too,” I replied. “I’m just worried that it won’t work out. That I’ll get out there and something bad will happen and I’ll end up heartbroken again.”
Cassie threw a balled-up wet cloth at my head.
I swung around to gape at her. “What was that for?”
“I’m trying to knock sense into you. The man of your dreams strolled through that door, wants to marry you, and you’re hesitating? You need to say yes, plain and simple. Go and be with him, for pity’s sake. Change is good. Besides, he’s your soulmate.”
My eyebrows pulled together in bewilderment. “How would you know that when I don’t even know it?”
She gave me a look. “Come on. You know it.”
* * *
That night after work, I went home and walked through every room to look at the things I’d grown so accustomed to living with. Things that belonged to Tyler and Ethan.
Most of it, I didn’t even see anymore. It was just stuff inside rooms I never entered. For the first time, I recognized that the house had become some sort of shrine to the people I had loved and lost.
How long, I wondered, did we need to cling to the things that belonged to our lost loved ones? Were “things” what really mattered? It was just stuff.
The value, I supposed, was that it helped me to remember details. But there was nothing concrete about a memory. Memories—and love—exist in our hearts and minds and souls. That love travels with us wherever we go.
I walked into Tyler’s room, sat down on the bed and picked up his teddy bear. I raised it to my nose, closed my eyes and breathed in the scent of it, rubbed the soft fur against my cheek.
An image of my son toddling around the kitchen in his bright red sneakers and the cheerful sound of his laughter filled my senses.
Who was I kidding? As much as I wanted to make a grand symbolic gesture, let go of all this and move on to another chapter in my life, I knew I couldn’t possibly throw these things away. What, then, was I supposed to do? Never move forward? Never step outside these walls?
Maybe it would require baby steps, I thought as I set the bear down on the bed. Perhaps, for now, I could just box these things up and put them away, out of sight. But still keep them.
Switching off the light in Tyler’s room, I went downstairs to cook dinner for myself and then ate it, alone, as I had done so many times in the past.
Tonight, however, the house seemed eerily quiet. The sound of my silverware clinking against the china plate was absurdly depressing, and when I was halfway through my meal, I lost my appetite completely and dropped my fork and knife onto the plate with a noisy clatter.
I sat back in my chair and decided that when Chris called that night and asked if I would be willing to move to Seattle, I would say yes. Tomorrow I would
give notice at the pub and book my flight.
Chapter Forty
I wish I could say it all went according to plan and I accepted a marriage proposal that night, but Chris didn’t call when he said he would. Hours went by, and when I texted him, he didn’t reply.
As I paced around the house, growing increasingly worried, my thoughts flashed back to the day I lost my husband and son in a car accident. Ethan hadn’t responded to my calls either. An hour later, a police officer was knocking on my door.
Where was Chris? Had something happened? Or had he simply changed his mind about wanting me to come to Seattle?
It was past midnight when my phone finally rang. I reached for it quickly and checked the call display.
Thank God, it was him.
* * *
“I’m sorry, Sylvie,” he said in a quiet voice. “I couldn’t call you back before.”
My heart began to flutter rapidly, out of control. “Why? What’s going on?”
“It’s unbelievable,” he told me. “I’m still in shock.”
“Are you okay? Is Logan okay?”
“We’re both fine,” he said. “It’s Katelyn.”
Oh God. My stomach dropped.
“She belongs to a biking club,” he said, “and they went out this morning on a different route than usual. They were coming around a bend, going downhill pretty fast, and I don’t know what happened exactly, but someone swerved and hit another biker. It was a bad crash and they all went down like dominoes. Katelyn went over a guard rail. She fell into a ravine.”
He stopped talking and I could hear him choking back sobs.
“Oh, God, Chris… Is she all right?” I asked.
“We don’t know yet,” he replied, pulling himself together. “She’s cut up pretty bad, has a lot of broken bones. She hasn’t been conscious since they brought her in.”
I covered my face with my hand. “I’m so sorry.” Neither of us spoke for a long moment. “How is Logan? Is he with you?”
“Yes, he’s here at the hospital with me and Katelyn’s parents. We’re doing our best to stay strong and not lose hope.”
“Give him a hug for me,” I said. “I wish I could tell you everything’s going to be okay. I wish I was there.”
“Me, too,” he said, then he let out a breath of frustration. “Why did this happen? Why? I spoke to her this morning before she went out. She was fine. She sounded happy, energetic. Logan and I were just boarding the plane and I can’t explain it, but I had a bad feeling about everything. I should have said something. I should have told her not to go.”
“I know exactly where you are right now because I’ve been there myself,” I said. “There are a million different directions any situation could have gone…but you can’t stop the world from turning. It goes where it wants.”
Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
“Do you want me to come out there?” I asked. “I could get on the next flight.”
He sniffed and spoke in a low voice. “It’s probably not a good idea. I’m here with Katelyn’s parents and it wouldn’t feel right. But I’ll call you when I know more.”
“Okay. I’ll be waiting by the phone. Take care of yourself.”
We hung up and I sank into a chair in front of the fireplace to comprehend what he’d just told me. Poor Katelyn. And her family.
This was all too familiar territory.
Chapter Forty-one
I’ve often wondered if certain people are destined to live charmed lives, while others—perfectly good people—are destined to meet roadblock after roadblock.
I’d always tried to be a good person. I was compassionate and kind to others, and when I loved, I loved with my whole heart. But for some reason I didn’t understand, tragedy followed me around like a shadow.
Maybe I was cursed. Maybe I should just stay away from people and not form any attachments, because it seemed that whenever I believed I’d found true happiness, the rug would get pulled out from under me and I would land on my back, groaning in agony.
* * *
“It’s bad,” Chris said into the phone the next day when he finally called. “Katelyn’s awake now, and that’s a blessing, but the doctor is certain she’ll never walk again.”
“What?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Katelyn was his ex-wife—a vibrant, beautiful and athletic woman who would probably always intimidate me, for the mere fact that she’d been married to Chris and was the mother of his child. Now he was telling me that she would spend the rest of her life in a wheelchair?
“She’s paralyzed from the waist down,” he explained, “and I don’t know how to tell Logan. We’re all still trying to sort this out and figure out how we’re going to manage.”
My heart squeezed painfully in my chest and I felt nauseous. How would they cope? What must Katelyn be going through as a mother? I knew how I would have felt, wanting and needing to care for my child—a sick child, no less—and knowing that I wouldn’t be able to do all the things I used to do. It was tragic and heart-wrenching. I couldn’t bear it.
“Has anyone told Joe?” I asked.
I don’t know why that question came out of my mouth just then. I could only assume it was a selfish question. I wanted to believe that there was someone else in Katelyn’s life who would be there for her, so that Chris could be there for me.
“Yes,” he replied. “I talked to him last night. He was devastated, of course, but it’s over between them. He’s not coming back. I’ll be surprised if he even comes to the hospital to see her. He seemed really uncomfortable.”
“That’s disappointing.”
There was a long pause, a silence that curled around my heart like a vise-grip.
“I’m so sorry, Sylvie,” Chris said. “I know we talked about you coming out here and I really wanted that, but I can’t think of myself right now, or you, or anyone else except for Logan. I have to be here for him and make sure he’s okay. I can’t just abandon Katelyn. She’d never be able to take care of Logan alone. She’s going to need help so I’m going to move back in with them.”
I closed my eyes and buried my face in a hand. “I understand,” I whispered. “You don’t have to explain. I know you care about both of them. I’d do the same thing in your position. It’s why I love you—because you’re such a good man.”
Tears filled my eyes and my throat closed up. I felt like I was choking. “I’m so sorry this happened,” I said. “I wish there was something I could do to make it better. No one deserves something like that to happen.”
But there was no way to save Katelyn. Life wasn’t that simple. Sometimes, bad things happened. All any of us can ever do is find a way to survive, and accept the things that cannot be changed.
Chapter Forty-two
I wouldn’t go so far as to say I was depressed, but “disappointed” seemed far too weightless a word to describe my feelings over the next two weeks. I went from moments of sympathy and grief for Katelyn’s tragic situation to feelings of pure selfishness, where I wondered if she had caused the biking accident on purpose just to get her husband back.
It was foolish and ridiculous of me to imagine such a thing, but there were days when I was utterly and completely out of my mind with heartache and disillusionment. I had to remind myself constantly that at least I was alive and well. I was able to stroll outside onto my veranda and look at the incredible sunset. I hadn’t fallen down a ravine and broken my neck. I wasn’t in physical pain. For those things, at least, I was grateful.
And maybe tomorrow, there would be another miracle. Another unexpected arrival of something blissful.
I decided that was something to cling to—a sense of hope and a belief in second chances.
* * *
Cassie, bless her heart, made a concerted effort to keep me busy and distracted at the end of August and into September. She scheduled me for every extra waitressing shift I was willing to accept, and she invited me over for dinner with her family many times.
I did my best not to allow myself to fall into a dark pit of despair and start weeping in her presence. But for the most part I was faking my cheerful disposition when she asked how I was doing, or when I waited on customers.
When I went home at night, I watched television for hours, just to distract myself from how badly I missed Chris. Then I would go to bed and lie there, doing what I always did—fantasizing about what my life might have been like if Katelyn hadn’t gone biking that fateful morning.
When I arrived at work one day and walked into the kitchen where Cassie was placing clean beer glasses on a tray, she looked at me with concern.
“You doing okay today?”
“As good as can be expected,” I replied as I removed my jacket and headed for the staff room. “I stayed up a little late last night, that’s all. Otherwise, I’m just taking it one day at a time, hoping each day will be better than the last.”
She followed me to my locker. “So is today better than yesterday?”
I paused to think about it. “It’s been two weeks and I still miss Chris like crazy. It’s hard not to dream about him. But mostly I feel really sad for Katelyn and what she must be going through, and how Chris and Logan are handling it. It must be so hard for them. I wish there was something I could do to take away that pain, but there isn’t. I have to stay away. I don’t want to make it harder for him. He needs to forget me.”
The back door opened and we both heard Malcolm call out, “Sorry I’m late!” He hurried into the staff room to get his white chef’s jacket from the hook on the wall. “Have you been listening to the news? They say there’s a hurricane headed this way.”
“Really?” Struggling to push thoughts of Chris and Katelyn from my mind, I tied the black apron around my waist. “When?”
“They’re tracking it to hit Maine tomorrow night,” he said. “They’re calling it a tropical cyclone and saying we could get winds up to 100 miles an hour. That’s a Category 2.”
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