by Nancy Adams
“I’ll be in Fargo in a week. There’s a few things I need to get right here before I come out, okay?”
“Like what?”
“I need to get the apartment straight and hand it over, for one. Plus, I have a few other things that need doing.”
“Okay, son. You stay safe, you hear me? I don't want you doing anything stupid.”
Paul closed his eyes tight, tears dropping intermittently from them, and gritted his teeth.
“I love you, dad.”
With that, he put the phone down and remained sitting on the couch with his eyes shut. The last week had been a complete blur of booze-driven fury. He had woken up that morning covered in blood with a terrible headache and an aching body. Searching around his head with his fingers, he had found a gash in his right temple which had coated one side of his face in blood. As he sat there in bed, he had been unable to figure out what had happened.
Even now, on the couch, he pushed his mind back to last night and what may have happened. But the last he remembered was sitting in Prospect Park drinking from a bottle of vodka. That was early in the evening, and after that he recalled nothing. When he had woken up that morning, he still had his wallet and his cell phone, so realized that it hadn't been a robbery. The bruising that coated half of his body made him think that it had been a fall of some sort, probably down some stone steps, and it wouldn’t have been the first time in the past three weeks that Paul had fallen while drunk. However, the exact truth of what happened was a complete blank and Paul discerned that he must have blacked out.
He shuddered now to think how bad his drinking had gotten in such a short time. He had gone from a fun-loving twenty-six-year-old who enjoyed a drink on the weekend to a full-blown drunk wandering the streets with a bottle of spirits. That morning he had had an epiphany. He had come to the realization that he needed to leave New York and get back to his family. He was so scared of what could eventually happen to him if he allowed his despair to drive him into further self-destruction.
With his life caught in a tumbling vortex, Paul saw no other option than to get back to the love of his family. He decided there and then that he had to quit his residency, even if it meant setting his career back by at least a year. The city that had felt so radiant only four months ago and had filled him with such ultra-bright optimism now cast a terrible shadow over him. Everything about New York depressed his spirit. All of it was synonymous with Claire, and thus it reminded him of their failure and his unrequited love for her.
Even though he despaired of his small town in North Dakota, the warmth of his family waiting for him there was enough to brighten his soul a tiny fraction and offer him a chink of light within his barren well of darkness. As to the week he was going to stay in New York before leaving, he had told the truth to his father when he’d stated that he needed to sort out the apartment. He was likely to get sued if he left it the way it was. The damages to the actual apartment, as well as the detritus of smashed furniture and garbage that covered it, would take at least four days to fix.
However, he hadn’t told his father what he might do after that.
It was something that had plagued his thoughts since he had originally thought of it, and depending on his mood—or indeed how drunk he was—it would either alarm him and fill him with shame, or bring a malicious smile creeping over his lips and he would become intoxicated with the malevolent idea. What it was, only Paul could tell you. He was the only one in the world that knew it and he had not mentioned one word to a single soul. He had even been afraid to say it out loud when he was meandering along the streets in a drunken haze, his words usually bursting from his angered mouth like lava spits from an erupting volcano.
The words to this idea, however, had stayed close to his heart.
Sitting there now upon his busted couch and gazing into the darkness of the room, Paul wasn’t sure whether he would really do it and his mind recoiled with questions and doubts. Am I capable of such an act? he asked himself. Could I really be so cruel, or is this simply the foolishness of my swollen anger?
He shook his head and simply said out loud, “I’ll know for sure by the end of the week.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Four days after they’d visited Dr. Smith, the doctor had called to inform Jules that his initial diagnosis had been confirmed by Juliette’s blood results: she was indeed suffering from the debilitating disease Alzheimer’s. It confirmed what everyone expected. Smith offered several words of encouragement, such as the availability of certain medications that could slow the disease, or at the very least make it less uncomfortable. But he mostly offered concerns to Jules, especially when he said that Juliette would need twenty-four-hour supervision from now on. This meant employing a caretaker or giving up his job. A caretaker was out of the question, as it would cost almost all of his income. So that left Jules with no other option: he faced having to give up his business and surviving on welfare.
It was now a day after Smith’s call and Jules was driving to Jose’s to give his business partner the news that ‘Hernandez-Lee’ would be becoming simply ‘Hernandez.’ He’d already warned Jose that this could be the outcome when he’d met up with him twice that week to help out on jobs, but he still felt bad having to hang the kid out to dry. And it wasn’t just the fact that he would be letting Jose down either; it was also because he had really enjoyed the time they’d spent together. They were a good team and had always gotten on extremely well. He would miss the work they did together, seeing it out from start to finish, building something together, smiles on both their faces when they’d tackled a problem head on and solved it. The camaraderie that existed between the two wasn’t something that Jules found easy to give up, and it pained him to think that he wouldn’t get to experience it again. He was sixty now and, with a sick wife and a young son, he wouldn’t be starting any new contracting businesses up again in his life. Jules knew for sure that this was the end of his professional existence, and his future felt somehow bleak without it.
He pulled up outside Jose’s house and sat in his car for a moment looking out the window at the place. He was gazing at the front door and recalling all those times he’d watched Gabriella burst out of it and take her husband in her loving arms. It had never failed to send him home with a smile and he shuddered now to think that he would never see it again, never feel its warmth upon his heart.
Feeling rather despondent, Jules got out the car and approached the house. When he buzzed the doorbell it wasn’t long before the heavily pregnant frame of Gabriella was coming to the door. She smiled widely to see Jules and, in her customary way, she took him in her arms.
When she let him go, her face melted into a look of deepest sympathy and she asked, “How is Juliette? Jose says she is sick.”
“That’s kinda why I’m here, my dear. I’ll explain everything inside.”
“Come in, Jules.”
She opened the door wide and he stepped inside the neat and tidy house. Gabriella was of Mexican origin, though American-born, had dark brunette hair, almost black, that would lighten during the sunnier months. She was very pretty, and even more so now that she was pregnant. Her eyes were brown and very oval-shaped, which was the reason Jose had first spotted her four years ago at a neighborhood barbecue. “Her eyes stuck out from nowhere at me,” he had told Jules when relaying the tale.
Their house was very modest, but very well looked after. Gabriella was house-proud and maintained everything in the cleanest and neatest respect. The furniture wasn’t expensive, but nor was it cheap, and some of it had been repaired and restored by Jose himself. And it wasn’t just the furniture that he had put his hand to. The garden and house had also received care from his hands and were the prettiest in the whole neighborhood of similarly modest houses in East L.A.
When they reached the lounge, Jose was lying on the couch watching football.
“Jules is here,” Gabriella said to him as they walked in.
Jose turned to Jules and smiled
. When he noticed the gloomy look on the latter’s face, however, his smile dropped.
“Hey, Jules. You good? You don’t look so good.”
“Not really, kid. Can I sit down?”
“Of course,” Jose said as he sat up and scooted over, creating space on the couch.
Jules sat down next to him and Gabriella seated her burdened frame on a chair nearby.
“I’m gonna get straight to the point,” Jules started off. “Juliette is very ill and she’s gonna need my total care. That means I’ve gotta give it all up.”
“Ah, man! That sucks!”
“I know it does. Don’t think this is easy for me, but I ain’t got any other choice.”
“Nah, man. I mean it sucks about Juliette. I’m real sorry. Of course it sucks that it’s the end, but your wife’s health is more important.”
“I knew you’d understand, kid. Look, I’ll give you everything I got, the pickup, my tools, all my book keeping, my contacts, all the money we put aside for the business, everything. It’s all yours.”
“You can’t give me all that, Jules. It’s practically all yours. I’ll buy it off you. It’s only right I buy your share of the business. I feel bad just takin’ it off you when your wife’s ill.”
“No, Jose. I mean it. You got a kid on the way. You’re gonna need every spare penny you got. If I take money off you now, it could cripple you and you might not have a business yourself in a year. No. It’s best to just hand it all over.”
A part of Jules had deliberated whether to ask for money off of Jose for all of the things that were his. But it was like he said: it would have killed the business to take all of Jose’s cash now. More than anything, Jules wanted the business to survive, with or without him. He and Jose had started it, and even if he wasn’t there to see it through, he still wanted to see it flourish under Jose’s stewardship.
“Jules, I don’t know what to say.”
“Say thank you, Jose,” Gabriella insisted of her husband.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me, Jose. I’ve left you in the lurch. But I guess you could bring your cousin in full time.”
“Yeah, Ricardo would be good, but he’s no Jules Lee.”
“Look, it ain’t exactly the end. I’ll still be onboard for anything you really need me for. That is until you’re good enough with someone else not to need me. All I need is a day or two in advance to organize with my neighbor if she can look after Juliette for me.”
“It’ll be cool to have you beside me again, man. And no sweat, I’ll pay you real well.”
“That’s sweet, kid. Also, if you have any other issues, don’t hesitate to call me. I’d still like to be kept informed of how everything’s going, and if you ever need some advice, I’m on the other end o’ tha phone.”
Jose sat stunned for a moment. He had half-expected this outcome and had dreaded it. However, a major part of that dread had been caused by the fact that Jose expected to have to buy the pickup and most of the equipment off of Jules. This would cost at least three thousand dollars and he had planned to offer Jules the money in installments.
But here he was, sitting there while that friendly old man gave him everything for free. A part of him rejoiced in it, but another part felt guilty that the old man was walking away with nothing.
“Look, man, when I start seeing real profit, I’ll pay you for the pickup and all the stuff.”
“If maybe one day you think of me when you’re building skyscrapers in your multi-billion-dollar company, then that would be nice. But don’t let the thought weigh you down. You owe me only one thing, kid. And that’s to make that company the best you can.”
Jose shone eyes of gratitude at Jules and offered his hand.
“Put it there, partner,” he said.
Jules took his hand and Jose pulled him toward him, embracing the old man in a warm hug that made him glow.
After that, Gabriella made them all coffee and they sat chatting for a moment, mostly Jose and Jules reminiscing about old times on different jobs they’d done together, difficult clients, difficult jobs, odd clients, odd jobs, Gabriella smiling and rubbing her belly as she listened to their tales.
Once his coffee was finished, Jules stood up and announced, “Guys I wish I could stay longer, but I gotta get back to Juliette.” He turned to Gabriella and added, “Thank you for the delicious coffee, my dear.”
“You’re always welcome,” she replied, blushing slightly at his politeness.
“You can’t stay a little longer, homes?” Jose asked.
“Nah, the neighbor’s gotta be somewhere, so I gotta get back.”
“Okay, man.”
Gabriella and Jose got up and saw him out. On the doorstep, they both embraced him one after the other, each telling him to come visit soon and giving their love to Juliette. Then he walked back to his car and they closed the door behind them. The truth was that he could have stayed longer, could have enjoyed more stories with them. He’d lied when he’d said that Gwen needed to go out. But while he had been in their company he had felt terribly sad.
When he got in his car, Jules gazed out the window at the front door of the little house for a moment, feeling gradually sadder by the second. The closed door felt so cold to him now and he wondered if he’d ever be allowed to glow like he did only a month ago when he had watched it close behind the loving couple after dropping Jose off from work. When he imagined back to how happy he had been when leaving this house before, he instantly compared it to how he felt now.
Back then, he’d looked forward to going home with such immense happiness. Now, on the other hand, he felt only hollow at the prospect. His Juliette, so vibrant and alive only a month ago, appeared to be fading with each new day. It wasn’t so much her memory that worried him at this time—the disease wasn’t quite that fast. It was more to do with how sad she had become. The plain knowledge of her depleting mental capacity terrified her and threw her into a depression. She felt such horror at the thought that one day she would wake up and not be herself. Would forget who she was. Would look in the mirror and see someone that she didn’t recognize. Like a tree in autumn shedding its leaves, she was shedding herself, and this had depressed her hideously.
Jules, in turn, saw the light of his beloved Juliette beginning to fade with her ever-diminishing mood.
Without knowing it, Jules began to sob.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was nighttime, and Claire and Sam were sitting by a large fire they’d built on the beach in front of his house. The sky was clear and the stars shone brightly in the velvet cosmos that lay over their heads. They were both lying cuddled up on a blanket, Sam with his head propped up on a cushion and Claire with her own rested upon his chest. As the fire crackled by their feet, they felt a delicate peace pervade through them, one that allowed them to relax for the moment, but one that felt fragile and contained an element of angst.
With her gaze stuck upon the innumerable stars that spread out all around them, Claire inquired, “That last time at the Cliff Face all those years ago, you told me that our souls had once been part of a whole and that it had shattered, and now we were returning back to each other. Do you still believe that? Or did you ever?”
“Why do you ask if I believe it?”
“Because I’ve often thought about it during these past years. I guess I always wondered whether you actually meant it or whether you were just saying it.”
“Just saying it!?”
“Yeah—just some corny chat-up line that you read in some romantic novel when you were a kid. Or just something you made up on the spot.”
“Why would you think I made it up?”
“Because it doesn’t seem like you. Not the technological king, the science guru. Everything about you says you’re a realist. Someone that deals in facts and figure and only goes into the theoretical in order to prove that the theory is correct or incorrect. You don’t come across as the kind of person to believe in the spirit
world, or gods, or even souls.”
“I’m more than willing to admit that there are some things in this world that are unexplainable. Perhaps if I was fabricating anything that I said, it was in order to explain feelings that I had for you that I found hard to put into words. Because ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, I have felt an indescribable yearning to be within your presence. It was the same with Marya. The first time I saw her I needed to be by her side, no matter what.”
“But that could simply be explained as animal attraction. When you met her, you were just starting puberty and she was the first girl your hormones attached some meaning to.”
“I think it’s more than just biology. If it were biology, I would be able to find the same attachment with almost any female I became attracted to. But that has never been so. I don’t claim to know women. I have only ever slept with three. Jenna I found irresistibly attractive. I thought the world of her. She was intelligent. Loyal. And above all, she held me deeply within her heart. She had everything that I should’ve wanted. But I never felt anything as divine as what I felt with you. The last five years haven’t altered my view that there is something more between us. If anything, the distance between us has strengthened it.”
“So you believe we were once a single soul?”
“You think I’m weird, don’t you?” he inquired with a slight frown.
“No, not at all. Like I said, I find it strange that a scientist who’s dedicated his life to truth, fact and the real would be so willing to delve into such abstract thinking.”
“Well, I can’t think of any other way of explaining it and, when we have no plausible explanation for something, we only have the abstract. I guess what I’m really trying to say is that my love is so strong for you that it would span lifetimes and the cosmos itself.”
“So you were attempting to sum up your feelings?”
“Perhaps, or perhaps it’s true. We’ll never know for sure. I do feel some formidable magnetic pull to you. There’s always been something dragging us together and it was inevitable that we’d one day be sitting upon this beach with you cradled in my arms and the both of us cradled by the universe. No matter how much it may have seemed otherwise, it was always going to be true.”