Wild Abandon

by Jeannine Colette

  Rosemary looked back at me for a moment, the Napa breeze blowing through her hair. “You, Nathaniel, are a rose. You are trying to be a man when you are a scared boy.” Her words caused me to look at my feet, but she reached forward and placed her fingertips to my chin, raising it. “And that’s okay. You are a boy. A boy without a home. Let this be your home. You mean a great deal to Ellie, and therefore, you mean a great deal to us.”

  A burning sensation stung around my eyes from the emotions her words were giving me. “Why would you do that? Why are you so accepting?”

  “Love, Nathaniel. Love is magic. And you see these?” She caressed a nearby bloom and plucked a petal, placing it over my heart. “These are magic roses. They brought me Ellie, and now, they’ve brought you into our family.”

  A family.

  I hadn’t had one of those…ever.

  I skeptically eyed the house, my mouth becoming drier. “What about your husband?” I asked.

  She laced her hand through my arm. “We’re just going to have to win him over together.”

  It took a long time to win Ed Martin over.

  The Martin family lived in a two-bedroom apartment over the garage of the ranch, so it was hard to avoid him. Whenever I entered the room, he’d grunt at me.

  There was no choice, other than my living there, as I had been renting a room from a very questionable man in a bad part of town.

  “No way my daughter’s going to be living with the meth addicts of San Francisco. Damn boy can’t even put a roof over her head. What kind of husband does he expect to be?” had been his exact words.

  I’d tried not to let them sting.

  I earned my keep by working at the vineyard. I quit my other jobs and devoted myself full-time to Ed. He didn’t like having me around, but I slowly wore him down.

  I would be up earlier than everyone else, and I’d stay out in the field later than I had to. I’d cook supper most nights because I genuinely enjoyed cooking for people. When repairs were needed around the ranch, I’d use the skills I’d learned from construction to fix them, and when barrels needed to be moved, I was pretty good at lifting them without the use of machinery. All those years of being a box boy were paying off.

  What I didn’t know how to be was a husband or a son.

  Those were shown to me.

  Ellie and I had enough love to get us by. It was the trivial stuff we had to learn. She called me controlling when I wouldn’t let her go on spring break with her friends. I called her irresponsible when she’d spent my paycheck on a new car we couldn’t afford. Yes, her parents had money, but I was the one supporting her. I was the man.

  Rosemary guided us, showing us how to nurture each other’s passions and to never give up, even when the days were dark and the hours sad. Ed taught us marriage was hard work and how to provide for each other in the good and bad times.

  When I wasn’t learning how to be a man, I was learning how to be a winemaker. Ed taught me everything he knew from cross-breeding vines to picking the best grape. Everything was done by hand. It was salt-of-the-earth work, and I loved it.

  We made wine, and we sold a ton of it. Russet Ranch was a profitable business, and together, we created our own reserve—Ellie Creek. That was my favorite.

  When I’d made my first few dollars, I mailed cash back to the bar owner in Boston who had provided me my plane ticket to salvation even if he didn’t know I’d stolen it.

  As much as I loved the ranch, Ellie wanted to live in the city. She wanted to open a dance studio and couldn’t in the valley. On our fifth wedding anniversary, Ed and Rosemary bought Ellie her dance studio and the two of us a condo in San Francisco, free and clear. I hadn’t realized until then just how profitable the ranch was.

  It was a long commute for me to go to Russet Ranch every day, but it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. We were happy for a while, but Ellie wanted me around more. She didn’t understand why I loved the ranch so much. She wanted me to open a wine bar in San Francisco. I contemplated it, but then Rosemary got sick. I put in more time at the ranch while Ed took care of her.

  When she died, Ellie was devastated. She said me being home more in San Francisco would help her get through the pain of losing her mother. I couldn’t leave Ed. He tried to fall apart, but I wouldn’t let him. Every morning, I would get him up and in the field. I tended to Rosemary’s garden and placed the roses around the ranch.

  After a few months, the old Ed was back.

  The new Ellie was, too. She wanted me in San Francisco. Pushed for me to open a bar. Begged was more like it. I kept on promising I would, but I put it off.

  And then Ellie had a stroke.

  Twenty-seven fucking years old, and her entire life was over.

  I lost Ellie. I lost Ed. I lost Russet Ranch.

  I used to be a dreamer. I used to think good things were bound to happen. I used to think hard work meant a great reward. I used to believe in magic roses.

  And then reality struck.

  For four years, I wandered aimlessly, back to the twenty-year-old kid trying to find a home.

  I wanted to take Ellie home, care for her myself, but the social workers urged me to put her in a proper facility that could care for her. Ellie went into a long-term care facility. My condo was paid off, so I spent every penny I made on her hospital bills.

  Three days a week, I’d sit with my wife. Some days, I’d stare out the window. Most days, I’d read to her. When trying to talk to Ellie, who couldn’t speak and didn’t even know I was there, I found the best thing to do was to read to her. So, that was what I did. There was no genre I wouldn’t read to her. No story too romantic, no tale too sad. I thought she liked the murder mysteries the most.

  I lost the few friends I had. No one wanted to hang out with a pissed off guy all the time. Even if he was hurting on the inside.

  Ellie was the only person I spent time with. I couldn’t talk to Ed. Not like we used to. He hated me. Blamed me. I couldn’t blame him. I blamed myself, too.

  I was a selfish bastard. I should have been with Ellie. I should have loved her enough to be there for her. Instead, I’d left her alone.

  Working at Henley’s Pub has been a relief of sorts. I have a place upstairs with a bed I’m not afraid to sleep in. I am free to see Ellie on my assigned days, and I make enough to pay her medical bills. I want Ellie to have the best. I need her to live, so I can read to her and touch her palm and kiss her cheek. I would give my life for her to have hers back.

  But life doesn’t work that way, does it?

  No. Instead, Ellie is lying in a bed.

  It’s Ed’s day. He brings her flowers and sits by her side. I always leave a bookmark in the novel I’ve been reading to Ellie. Sometimes, I come back and see the bookmark has moved forward. Those must be the days when Ed needs something to do. I like the idea of us reading to her together. Makes me feel like we’re a family again. The only family I’ve ever known.

  Is this enough of a sad sack story for you? Sorry, but I seem to be living in my own head a lot. Willie Mays is a good listener, but I can’t bring him down to Henley’s even if I am the temporary owner.

  The pub is empty. Not unusual for this time of day. The after-work crowd will be coming in soon. The staff doesn’t come in until later. No need. I can take care of everything else.

  I look over at the seat, at Crystal’s spot at the end of the bar.

  What kind of sick man falls in love with another woman when his wife is lying lifeless in a hospital bed?

  A man who met Crystal Reid, that’s who.

  What I would give for Crystal to walk in here again.

  No. I bang my fist against the bar.

  “Fuck!” I shout, clutching on to my hurt hand.

  “Don’t go beating yourself. What good are you, if you’re injured?” The voice belongs to a stout man with a bulging stomach and a limp. A voice I never thought I’d hear in this bar.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask Ed as he hobbles over t
o the bar.

  In the last four years, I’ve only seen him at Ellie’s bedside. Each of our interactions has been cordial yet strained. Our only concern is Ellie. The past is never spoken of.

  He looks much older this time. Maybe it’s because I haven’t seen him anywhere but under fluorescent lighting in years. The wrinkles on his face are deeper, his eyes falling at the ends. He looks tired, not the robust Ed I always knew.

  “Came to talk some sense into you.” Ed walks up to a stool and places his cap on the bar before working hard to climb up onto the barstool.

  I don’t dare help him for fear he’ll swing at me with his cane. I know he wants a bourbon. I pour him a glass of his favorite and hand it to him.

  If he’s here to scold me for cheating on his daughter, then he has no need. I’ve been beating myself up for weeks. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I can’t think of anything but Crystal.

  I slam my fist into the wood again.

  “You got the Tourette’s, boy?” He places his glass down and eyes me through this bushy black eyebrows.

  I shake my head at him and straighten my back. “You here to tell me what an idiot I am? Because I know. I know I wronged Ellie, and I know I wronged you. Most importantly, I wronged Crystal. Don’t worry. It’s over. I’m sure she told you.”

  “She did. Right before she left for New York.”

  My heart halts. “She left?”

  “Came by the ranch and said her good-byes.” His eyes are unfocused on the space in front of him, glazed over, as if recalling the conversation. “I had some explaining to do. I’ve known what’s been going on for a while now. Saw you the day you went scurrying off in your truck. Listened to her go on about the guy she was falling in love with. I didn’t say anything. Couldn’t rush her into the world of hurt she was in for. She loved you, and that girl loves hard.” Ed takes another sip of his bourbon, not making eye contact with me.

  “Ed, I never told her about Ellie. I lied to her.”

  “I figured. She said you were in love with someone else. Didn’t take long for me to realize that she didn’t know the whole story.” Ed’s disdain is written all over his face.

  The first time he comes to me in years, and it’s out of…disappointment.

  “Okay, fine. I’m an asshole.” I make a dramatic point to my chest. “I’m the reason Ellie is lying in that bed. I’m the reason Crystal ran away, hurt. You don’t think I know this? I hate myself more and more every day. My entire life, I have been left by the people I loved or told how worthless I was. I know what I am, Ed. I don’t need you to sit here and remind me of just how fucked up my life is.”

  I’ve never raised my voice to Ed before. He’s like a father to me. I have never shown anything but respect for him. And, here I am, screaming at the man.

  My heart hurts; my soul hurts. Everything my mother ever said is true.

  Ed is looking into his glass, his mouth shrugging in agreement of what I just said. The act makes me want to punch something again.

  “You’re right. You are an asshole”—he looks up at me—“because you let the best thing that ever walked into your life leave on a plane to New York.”

  My head does a double take. Did he just say what I think he said?

  I stare at him, dumbfounded, waiting for him to speak.

  “I did you wrong, Nate. And I apologize.” Ed’s eyes fall slightly, as if they are emotional.

  I reach out for the cedar, needing something to feel, to ground me, so I know I’m not imagining things. “Ed, you have done nothing but give me a home, and I destroyed that.”

  “No,” he says forcefully, getting my attention, “it’s not your fault.”

  It’s not my fault? Everything is my fault. My father leaving, my mother kicking me out, even the douche stealing my money because I was a dumb teenager who hid his cash in a tube sock.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  How could it not be my fault? I left Ellie alone when she’d continuously begged me not to. The doctors said she would have had a chance for a normal life if we had found her sooner. If someone had been with her—

  “It’s not your fault.”

  I cheated on Ellie with another woman. Led her into being my friend, held her like she was my own, and made a false promise of a forever I couldn’t give.

  “Son”—the word I haven’t heard in so long punches me smack in the face, and the pain flows right to my heart—“it’s not your fault.”

  I take the deepest breath known to man and look down at the man below me. I’ve always been a foot taller than him, yet he’s always made me feel like he’s ten feet tall. No matter our height difference, I’ve always looked up to him. He is my father.

  And, like a child, I weep.

  My body falls onto the wood and collapses before Ed. My hand on my eyes, my forehead pressed up against the cool countertop, I let out four years of frustration and sadness. Hell, I’m letting out thirty-two years of pain. My back hitches with the erratic breaths. I can’t believe I am actually crying. For the first time in my life, I’m bawling like a goddamn baby.

  There is a weight on my back, and I realize that Ed is rubbing it. Like a father would a child, the man is soothing me, and it makes me want to curl up into him, so I can thank him for the life he gave me and atone for all my sins.

  I lift my head and look up at him. Ed’s eyes are softer. I’ve only seen them this way when he looked at Rosemary and Ellie. And, now, me. His son.

  I stand up straight and wipe my eyes down forcefully, regaining my composure. Shaking my head, I get rid of the emotions. Taking a quivering long breath, I pat down my chest and shake my head at Ed. The moment is too much. I don’t know how to process it all.

  Ed gives me a stern look, his hands flat on the bar, his body leaning in. “You listen to me, Nathaniel, because I should have said this a long time ago. What happened to Ellie was a tragedy. But it was her tragedy. There wasn’t anything you or I could have done to stop it. It was what God intended.” His voice breaks at the end of the sentence, but he keeps on going, “This isn’t what she would have wanted. We should have let her go then, but I wasn’t ready. Now, she’s paying. Now, you’re paying. And all for this old man to say he still has a daughter.”

  My chest feels like it’s about to explode. I rub the spot where the roses are burned into my skin.

  Ed continues, “You and me, we’re family. We’re all we have left. You…” He pauses for a moment and slowly tilts his head from side to side, as if keeping his emotions in check. “You’re a son to me. Ellie being here or not doesn’t change that.”

  Four years ago, Ed Martin punched me in the jaw. Told me I was a killer and never spoke to me the same again. He shut down his ranch and isolated himself from everyone, especially me. Part of me always knew I took this job in Napa to be closer to him. Keep an eye on him. Maybe even reconnect. Now, here he is, and it feels like a mirage.

  “Why now?” I look over at him, my eyes moistening. “After all these years, why are you forgiving me?”

  “Because it took until now for me to wake up and realize what an ass I’ve been. That girl breathed new life into the two of us. And if you don’t go on and get her back, then you might as well dig yourself an early grave now because this is no way to live. I’m an old man, Nate. I’ve loved the same woman for forty. I’ve raised a child, and I’ve had more good days than bad. But you? You’re still young. You shouldn’t live like me. You shouldn’t live like a man who has nothing left to wake up for. You’ve wasted too many years living in purgatory. It’s time to take your own piece of heaven.”

  My mind is reeling from the conversation.

  I want to go to Crystal. I’ve fought so hard to stay away from her. And, now, Ed is here, giving me my free pass. It all seems too surreal.

  “Heaven.” I laugh at the word. “How can I have that when Ellie is living in hell?”

  “You’ve taken good care of my little girl. Gone far above what most young men your age would ha
ve done. You never gave up, Nate. You never let her down. I don’t expect you to desert her. But it’s goddamn time you found your own happiness, and you’re not gonna find it next to a hospital bed overlooking the bay. Life’s too short. Don’t waste it being alone.”

  “You only get to live life once. Why waste it with the wrong person?” Crystal’s voice sings in my head.

  I look over to the spot where she sat, and I find a moment of peace from just recalling her image.

  I have been a shell of a man for so long. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at loving someone again. My past is in stone, and whenever I think of my future, it’s black.

  Except for right now.

  I see us sitting in a porch swing, drinking beer and wine. I see Crystal on a vineyard, a child in her arms, another in her belly. I see us walking in a garden, a rosebud behind her ear. I see us old and gray, holding hands. I see me kissing her. Again. Forever.

  I run my fingers through my hair and look at the ceiling for guidance, resolution, something. “What are you saying? Run to New York? Sail off into the sunset with Crystal? And who’s to say she even wants me? I destroyed her.”

  Ed places his cap back on his head. “Most men are lucky to be loved by only one great woman. You have been fortunate enough to be loved by two. Don’t let the moment pass you by.” He makes his way to the door, and just before he’s about to exit, he turns and says, “And, Nate, I don’t mind reading, but Little Women? I like when you leave the Tom Clancy ones.”

  chapter TWENTY-FIVE

  CRYSTAL

  “She’s so beautiful.” My voice is a light whisper as I hover over baby Isla.

  Emma had her a few weeks early, but fortunately, Isla is a healthy and happy bundle of joy.

  “She has her daddy’s eyes,” Emma beams.

  And she should. Her husband has amazing golden eyes, the color of honey. Most babies are born with blue, but this little miracle is already showing hints of gold.

  “The rest is all you, love. She’s perfect.” Alexander puts his hand on Emma’s cheek and pulls her in for a kiss.

  It’s precious to see their little family. The amount of love in this apartment is astounding.