Rushing Waters

by Danielle Steel

  “Do you want to talk to her?” Gwen asked quietly, and he shook his head. “Do you miss her?”

  “I miss him,” he said sadly, and cried again, for a long time. “I miss him so much. He was the best friend I ever had. And it’s my fault he died.” She didn’t argue with him and let him sit with it for a while.

  “Do you think it’s possible that it isn’t your fault? Even if you don’t believe it right now, will you accept my word that it really isn’t, and it was out of your control?”

  “Maybe,” he said after he thought about it, “but I’m sure his parents blame me for it, and they’re right.”

  “What if they don’t blame you? What if no one blames you, except yourself? Do you think you could be wrong about it?” He shook his head then. “Do you think Ben would blame you?” Peter shook his head again and looked at her.

  “He was a great guy. He would never blame me.”

  “Maybe we ought to start there,” she said, latching on to a positive. “Maybe we should let Ben make the decision here. If he wouldn’t blame you, he gets my vote. What about you?” He was pensive again, and seemed less tormented when she left a little while later.

  It was slow progress after that, as he worked his way through it. She offered him medication to help him sleep, but he declined. He said he wanted to face everything squarely, and he was courageous about it as they talked about all the events in their daily sessions. And three weeks after she had started with him, Peter sat down to dinner with his parents. He didn’t say anything or talk to them, but he ate a reasonable meal. He joined them at the dinner table every day after that, and eventually said a few words to them, and he started to gain weight back again. And the hair loss stopped soon after, and he had peach fuzz and then duck down in the bald places. And little by little, his mind followed his body and began to heal. Their toughest battle was his blaming himself for Ben’s death.

  With Gwen’s help, Peter wrote a beautiful letter to Ben’s parents, telling them how he felt, how responsible and how wrong he had been, and how guilty he thought he was. Jake Weiss responded almost immediately with a letter of incredible sensitivity and eloquence, explaining that they in no way blamed him for Ben’s death, and how grateful they were that he had survived, and he assured Peter that Adam felt that way too. Peter opened their letter in Gwen’s presence, as they had agreed he would, and Peter sobbed for hours after he read it, with regret and relief, and some release from the remorse that he’d been feeling. And eventually he read one of Anna’s texts and saw how worried she was about him and didn’t blame him either. And he spent a tearful night with his parents, telling them every detail of what had happened.

  The next day, he went out with his mother to the supermarket, and downtown to dinner with his parents. He wasn’t ready to see any of his old friends, but he called Anna one night and they talked on the phone. She said she had applied to Barnard as a special case and was transferring there, and a few days later he told Gwen he might apply to Northwestern, so he could graduate, although he was missing a semester and he didn’t know if he’d lose too many credits if he transferred. She told him that she was sure schools were making allowances for the hurricane survivors from schools that were still closed, which was the case for NYU. They weren’t even sure if they would be open for the next semester. But he was talking about going back to school, and entering the world again.

  Two months after he had come home, Peter looked normal again, and acted it, although he was still deeply troubled and having difficulty sleeping, and he cried when he thought about Ben, or talked about him, but he was no longer so sure he was to blame and could see that he might not be. Gwen told his parents that it would all take time. They couldn’t rush the process, he would have to heal in his own time. He still had a nasty scar on his arm from the night of the hurricane, and his mind was certainly just as marked, and needed time to heal. There might always be traces of it, just as there might on his arm, but one day it would no longer trouble him or keep him from leading a normal life.

  They went to his uncle’s in Chicago for Thanksgiving, as they did every year, and Peter appeared normal at dinner, although everyone had been warned not to mention the hurricane to him, or his friend’s death, even to tell him they were sorry. They all followed the instructions to the letter, except his grandfather who had dementia, and somehow remembered hearing about the hurricane, and much to everyone’s horror brought it up at dinner.

  “I hear you were in a hurricane, Pete,” he said from across the table in a booming voice since he was deaf too. “How was it?”

  “Pretty bad, Grampa. It was really scary.” He offered none of the details.

  “Well, I hope you didn’t lose your pants in the water and come out naked,” his grandfather guffawed, and everyone was so relieved, the entire table broke into nervous laughter, and someone changed the subject after Peter’s answer.

  “No, I kept my pants on, Grampa,” he said, smiling at him, and the moment passed. And his parents realized how much better he was to have been able to handle the awkward moment.

  He called Anna a few times, and they enjoyed talking to each other, although it was no longer romantic, and they didn’t talk about Ben. But it was nice to hear her voice, and she always asked about Mike. Peter was still seeing Gwen, and he told her three weeks after Thanksgiving that he wanted to go to New York for a day or two, and take Mike with him. She looked startled and asked him why.

  “To see Anna,” he said quietly.

  “To rekindle your romance with her?” From what he’d said so far, that surprised her, although anything was possible, and nothing was forbidden, except self-blame.

  “No, it was so weird when I left. We weren’t friends, we weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend anymore. We were so confused and so messed up over everything that had happened. I just want to see her and leave it in a good place so we can be friends.” It sounded like a good plan to her, and she tried to reassure his parents. They were panicked. What if he had a flashback or a freak-out in New York? Or on the plane?

  “He’s not going to have a flashback, because he remembers everything,” she explained to them. “And he may experience some stress, even severe stress, but I think he can handle it now, and I think seeing Anna may give him some closure he needs so he can move on. She was almost like Ben’s sister.” She asked Peter in their next session if he was going back to see the building, or the street, or make some kind of pilgrimage to the area where Ben had died, and Peter rapidly shook his head with a pained look.

  “I don’t ever want to see the house again, or the street. I can’t,” he said in a choked voice.

  “You don’t have to. I just wanted to know what you had in mind. You don’t ever need to go back there.” And she hoped he wouldn’t.

  “All I want to do is see Anna, and then come home again. She said I could stay at her place for the night if I want to. We were friends before we started dating.”

  “Are you going to see Ben’s parents?” Gwen asked him, and he hesitated with a guilty look in his eyes.

  “Do you think I should? I wasn’t going to. I think it might be too much. I just want to see Anna.”

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to visit them. And I think it would be hard too.” He looked relieved, and she told him she approved of his plan. And when he mentioned it to her, she gave him a letter on her professional stationery that said he was a victim of Hurricane Ophelia, was currently experiencing PTSD, and as part of his therapy, his black Labrador was to accompany him freely as an emotional support dog, and she signed it. Peter beamed and high-fived her when she handed him the letter, and she laughed.

  “Yes!” he said loudly. With her letter he could take Mike in the cabin with him, and not put him in a crate in cargo, which he wouldn’t have done. In that case, he would have left him with his parents, but he was thrilled to take him along.

  Peter’s parents took him to the airport a few days later, with the dog, and they were nervous wrecks the mom
ent his flight took off, and reassured each other all the way home that Peter would be fine. Peter had presented Gwen’s letter at the airline desk, they had read it carefully, looked at him, looked at the dog, nodded, and waved him through after giving him back the letter he’d need to get him home too.

  And he took a cab from La Guardia to Anna’s home. She was expecting him and nervous about seeing him too. Neither of them had any idea what to expect, and Gwen had told him to keep an open mind and just let things flow, and to call her if he felt too stressed. He kept her cell phone number in his phone, and had called her several times when he had a tough time, mostly in the beginning. They both felt he was doing great now.

  The moment Anna opened the door to him, she squealed and threw her arms around his neck, and a minute later they were both crying and laughing and so happy to see each other, and Mike was barking frantically, as Anna’s mother came out of her room to hug Peter too. For Peter, he had lost two friends. Ben and Anna. And now he had Anna back.

  “You look terrific,” Elizabeth said, relieved to see him. He was a great boy, and she had always liked him.

  “I lost my hair for a while,” he said to Anna with a shrug, “but I’m okay now.” He felt like he had lost his mind for a while too, but he didn’t tell her that. She didn’t need to know. And Gwen had assured him that everything he had felt and experienced was normal, given what he’d been through.

  “What do you want to do?” Anna asked him, and on the spur of the moment, Peter said he wanted to see the Christmas tree all lit up at Rockefeller Center. He had seen it once as a little kid with his parents and loved it, and now he wanted to go with her.

  They took a cab there and left Mike with her mother, and stood in awe of the giant tree with the decorations and lights on it, and then hung over the railing and watched the ice skaters. Anna suggested they go to St. Patrick’s and light a candle for Ben, which was the first time they had mentioned him, and Peter agreed. They lit the candle, and both said a prayer and then left, and walked back uptown to Anna’s apartment. They ordered sushi takeout, and talked about what they were going to do.

  “Do you think you’ll go back to school?” Anna asked him. Her parents had left them alone, and they had talked all afternoon. And eventually, he told her about his therapy with Gwen and said he felt better. Anna was seeing a therapist too, for loss in her case, not guilt, although she blamed herself for not “making” the boys come uptown with her. Her therapist had told her that she couldn’t “make” them do what they didn’t want to do. It had been the same thing Gwen had said to Peter.

  “I don’t know,” Peter said about school. “Maybe. I’m not sure.” It felt good to be back in New York, and he loved the city, but he knew he didn’t want to go back to NYU. It would be too hard now without Ben, and the location was too close to where everything had happened. And he was afraid that if there was ever another hurricane, he would lose it. “I might come back here to live though one day after school.”

  “I want to go to L.A. and study acting,” Anna said firmly, which she had already been saying for two years, about after she graduated from Tisch. And now she was going to be a straight English major at Barnard. “You can come and visit me when I make my first movie,” she said with a grin. There had been no word of their rekindling their romance, and it was obvious that neither of them wanted to. They just wanted to be friends. And in a way, he could step in for Ben now, as her almost brother. It was the role he aspired to in her life, and so did she as his nearly sister. Their dating days seemed to be over, too much had happened, and they had both suffered too shocking a loss of someone they loved. It had ended their romance but strengthened their love for each other.

  They talked until after three A.M., and fell asleep in sleeping bags next to each other, holding hands, on the den floor. And the next morning after her mother made them breakfast, Anna took Peter to the airport to go back to Chicago.

  “I’m so glad you came,” she said as he hugged her goodbye and held her tight for a long moment.

  “I’ll always love you, Anna,” he said with tears in his eyes, “just like he did. I’m not as good a guy as he was, but I’ll try.”

  “I love you too,” she said as they both cried. They had something better than a romance now. They were friends. For life.

  “Come and visit in Chicago.”

  “Maybe after Christmas,” she promised.

  “We can go skiing. I’ll show you around.” She nodded and they hugged again, and then he presented his emotional support dog letter for Mike, and went through security, frantically waving at her, while they blew each other kisses like little kids.

  “I love you!” she screamed loud enough for him to hear her, and she didn’t care what anyone thought in the airport.

  “I love you too!” he yelled back, and Mike barked. And they could both feel Ben with them, as Peter disappeared through security, and they both knew that they would be the Three Musketeers forever.

  —

  Peter’s father was waiting for him at the airport in Chicago. Peter hadn’t started driving again yet, but now he wanted to and felt ready. He was going to talk to Gwen about it when he saw her.

  “How was the flight?” his father asked him, because it was easier to say than ask about the visit to New York. But he could see that Peter was euphoric, and he wondered if he and Anna had rekindled their romance. He didn’t understand that the friendship and bond they’d formed was something even better for them.

  “It was great,” Peter said and meant the visit, not the flight. “We went to see the tree at Rockefeller Center.” He didn’t mention the candle and prayers at St. Patrick’s.

  His father smiled at what he said. “We took you there once when you were about five. You probably don’t remember. You loved it and didn’t want to leave.”

  “Of course I remember, Dad. That’s why we went. I wanted to see it again. And I still love it.” He beamed and acted like a carefree child again. The trip to New York had done him good.

  And then on the drive home, he told his father he wanted to apply to Northwestern, if he wouldn’t lose credits in a transfer. “I want to stay around here to finish school. I might go back to New York for graduate school, like get an MBA at Columbia,” he said, looking out the window as his father glanced at him and smiled. His hair had come in thick and full again.

  “That sounds like a good plan to me,” John Holbrook said quietly, and hugged his wife when he got home. He held her in his arms with tears rolling down his cheeks. “He’s going to be okay,” he said about their only child, when Peter went upstairs with Mike. He was whole again, and scarred perhaps in subtle ways, but better than ever. It had been a hard road, and a tough journey, but he had found his way back.

  Chapter 16

  Ellen and Bob managed to have dinner together twice before the pressure of the holidays started, and talked about the benefit for hurricane survivors. They had both volunteered to be on the committee, as had Jim and Grace. It was being held in March.

  Ellen wanted to go Christmas shopping, although her list was short this year. Her mother, Phillippa, and Alice, with handsome bonuses for them and all her employees in London. She no longer had to find something special for George or shop for their London friends. And she wanted to find a nice gift for Jim, after housing them during the hurricane. And something small for Bob, if she could find a gift she thought he’d like.

  Her mother seemed to be busy in meetings all the time, and out with Jim at holiday parties. Her social life had picked up noticeably, and Grace enjoyed it with him. He was taking her to St. Barth’s for New Year’s, “like Miami, only better,” she told Ellen and her daughter laughed. They were clearly enjoying their romance, and as Bob said, “why not?” Bob had helped Ellen buy a tree and decorated it with her. It suddenly really felt like Christmas, despite the changes of the past year. And they enjoyed spending time together. Aside from dinners, they had gone to the symphony and the theater and loved talking to each ot
her for hours. And when she expressed interest in it, he had invited her to join him at a television show where he was being interviewed. He was blasé about it, but she had found it exciting and watched from the green room at The Today Show.

  Bob was preparing for his children’s visit, and going skiing with them for a few days, but he wanted Ellen to have dinner with them first, and she was looking forward to it. Talking about them led them into a subject that Bob had wondered about but been afraid to ask her. But after a couple of glasses of wine at dinner one night, he did.

  “I take it you and your husband decided not to adopt,” he said carefully. She had told him the results of her infertility treatments, and that she would never be able to have a child of her own.

  “It went against all his ideas about his bloodlines and heritage. He didn’t want a child that wasn’t entirely his, and I sort of agreed. I don’t know if he talked me into it or not, but he was also averse to the risks of adoption, and opposed to surrogacy, so we ruled them out. Adoption seemed like risky business to me too, given drug histories of birth parents and things you don’t always know about with adopted kids.”

  “My son is adopted, you know.” He had never mentioned it to her before. “We wanted a second child, and after five miscarriages we gave up and adopted. He’s a terrific boy,” he said. “I just thought you should know. It’s not always a bad idea. And there are risks with your own biological kids too, health problems you can’t anticipate, genetic stuff that turns up from earlier generations you never knew about. Shit happens, as they say. Sometimes adoption is a wonderful idea, if you really want a child and can’t have your own.” She had never seen it quite that way before, and George had been so violently opposed to it that he had convinced her too. But Bob made it sound almost appealing. “Do you think you’d ever consider it?”