Like Always

by Robert Elmer

  Will stared at the door as it clicked shut behind Merit. He felt the growing heat of the doctor’s gaze.

  “Please, Mr. Sullivan. You’re not going to let her do this.” Dr. McCauley’s jaw thrusted and her eyes blazed. “Do you know how unreasonable this is? I—I’m sorry to be blunt, but I should call social services if you don’t consent.”

  “What? Social services can’t—” He swallowed hard.

  “All right, I’ll tell you what.” Her voice softened a notch, leaving her threat dangling. “I’ll prepare another form for you to take home. Talk it over. She’ll change her mind if you talk to her, especially when she sees the girls. Please, just don’t delay more than you have to. Certainly not more than twenty-four hours.”

  Will shook his head sadly as he headed for the door. “I’m sorry,” he told the doctor, “but my wife’s decision is…”

  What could he say? He reached for the door handle.

  Conceived, born, suffered, died, buried.

  “… her decision is her own.”

  eighteen

  I’ve noticed that everybody that is for abortion has already

  been born.

  RONALD REAGAN

  will hadn’t expected a lot of conversation on the drive home, but the silence in the car nearly crushed him. He drove on, his knuckles white on the steering wheel, his mind racing as fast as the car engine but going nowhere except in circles.

  Merit, meanwhile, pressed her nose to the side window as the scenery flashed by.

  What was there to talk about? Besides the new baby, and the cancer treatments, and whether Merit would live another year, and what to tell the girls, and how, and when. Besides what would become of the resort, and how to tell people in Kokanee Cove.

  Other than that, there was nothing to say, so he squinted at the road ahead, trying to keep silent tears from blinding his vision and their Land Rover from wandering into the oncoming lane.

  Their dreams together, this new place, this new life…gone, gone, gone.

  As they took the lake cutoff road, Will could taste blood, and he realized he was biting his lip. The visit to Dr. McCauley’s had numbed all feelings, all pain.

  Gravel sprayed as he hit the shoulder going around a curve.

  “Will!” Merit warned him. “Slow down.”

  “Or else what?” He straightened out the car, and they flashed past a road sign telling them Kokanee Cove lay nine miles ahead. What mattered anymore? After what they’d been told, what really mattered?

  “Please.” She rested a hand on his knee.

  He sighed and let the car coast down to the speed limit.

  “You think I made the wrong decision?” she asked. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a. chance to talk it through.”

  “We didn’t, did we.”

  “I just wanted you to say something, and then there she was, with the pen and that form and everything. I guess it was just my gut reaction.”

  “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t…the words were just stuck, you know?”

  She looked at him. “You think I should have signed the form, had the abortion, and started the treatment?”

  He didn’t answer right away, didn’t even know if it was a serious question.

  The highway widened in the flatlands above their lake, where an old barn stood sentinel at the edge of a hay field framed in green hills. The Idaho State Historical Society had erected a historical marker here about one of the gold rush-era towns that had lured settlers to the region.

  He’d once thought it was a beautiful spot. Now he knew he’d better pull over there or risk running into oncoming traffic. For the briefest moment he considered it. Then just as suddenly, he stomped on the brakes and raked the roadside gravel in a sliding skid.

  “Will!”

  He stared at the dead, empty barn, a blurred picture of what his life had suddenly become.

  “Answer me, Will. There was no choice in my mind. But do you think I made i:he wrong decision?”

  He rubbed his temples and took a deep, jagged breath, holding on to the sobs as long as he could before giving in. Then he could only close his eyes and bury his head in her lap, shaking and sobbing like he hadn’t since he was a little boy.

  She held him close, adding tears of her own. He didn’t know how long the waves would continue, and he didn’t know if the little life inside her could hear, but he knew that with his ear against her stomach, he could almost feel the pulse his wife now shared.

  He finally sat up, wiping his face. He still hadn’t answered her question.

  “I…I would give anything to trade places with you right now, Merit. If God had any sense of justice, He would let me die for you.”

  The words sounded as cheesy coming from him as they did on daytime television, but he meant every pain-filled word.

  Merit raised a hand to her cheek and shook her head. “Don’t talk like that about God, Will. Please.”

  “You asked me.” He shrugged. The pain swept over him again like a tide that had nowhere to go but back and forth over the same wound, and it stung more than brine ever could. “I can’t make myself say that you’re doing the right thing. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

  “But the baby.” Once more the pleading in her eyes melted his spirit. “Dr. McCauley kept calling it a fetus, but I know better. It’s our baby, Will. Maybe it’s still tiny, but it’s our baby, no matter what they try to call him. Or her.”

  “I know it’s our baby.” He cradled her glistening cheek in his hand. “I know you’re doing what you think is right. What can I say? You’ve always been the better parent, the better Christian than me. Don’t you think?”

  He knew it was a question she could never really answer. Which one of them had a clearer connection to heaven? Who was more spiritual? Right now, though, he thought he knew the answer.

  “I never thought that, Will.”

  “I know you didn’t. That’s not what I mean.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He raised his hands. “I don’t know. But how can I be your husband and not do everything I can to protect you? How can I just sit here and say, ‘Yeah, sure, you have an aggressive case of cancer that’s going to kill you in a matter of months. But we don’t have to do anything about it, we’re not going to do anything about it, and I’m okay with it’? Well, I am not okay with it. I am not okay with this decision, Merit.”

  They stared at the meadow as five minutes passed, then ten. With their arms around each other, they watched a fawn and it’s mother tentatively step into the open and sniff the breeze. The doe looked suspiciously at the vehicle, then flicked her large white tail into the air and disappeared once more into the woods, youngster in tow.

  Couldn’t it be that simple? Just hide in the woods? If only.

  Once in a while, Will kissed away Merit’s tears, though he knew in the end it could make no difference—like trying to kiss away the raindrops before an oncoming thunderstorm. The flood had already come upon them, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Once his wife made a decision, she would dig in her heels and never turn back. It was one of the things he loved about her. And one of the things he now hated as well.

  “You’re not going to try to make me change my mind?” Merit asked, her voice wavering.

  “Every day,” he snapped, but he knew he couldn’t. He straightened and took the wheel once more. “I mean, no.”

  She waited for him to explain.

  “I might pray you’ll change your mind,” he said, “but I’m not sure God is in the listening mood.”

  “Will, don’t—”

  “I told the doctor it was your decision, and it is. You know how I feel about it, but…” He shook his head, searching for a way to explain.

  “Promise me one thing?” Merit asked. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from her purse.

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure I can promise anything anymore. I’m sorry. I’m just…out of promises.”

  “Okay, but all I’m
asking right now is that you don’t tell the girls yet. We have to figure out a way to break it to them. And maybe we don’t have all the facts yet, either.”

  He groaned. “They’re going to have to find out sooner or later. And later is—

  “I know, I know. Just not now. Not today. They were so excited about having a little brother. They’re not ready for this yet.”

  “And you think we are?”

  He wished he hadn’t said it and tried to restart the car, then jumped when it made a horrible metal-grinding screech. The motor had already been running. He hadn’t turned it off.

  “It’s not about us, Will.”

  “But do you really want them to think everything’s fine and dandy?” He pulled back onto the lake access road, then realized he hadn’t checked for traffic. “Do you really want them to think everything’s just like it always was? Because the more we wait, the harder it’s going to be for everybody. You know that.”

  It was her turn not to answer. Her look begged him—please—and he could only nod his feeble yes as they crested the ridge and neared Kokanee Cove. What else could he say to her? He knew it wouldn’t matter much what he said or did not say. The kids would know, soon enough.

  And then no amount of pretending would hold off the storm descending to sweep away the fragments of their once-perfect life.

  nineteen

  The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and

  which to burn.

  DAVID RUSSELL

  what’s this?” Merit smiled as she walked down the ramp to the floating store. “Somebody’s birthday?”

  Will and Merit both knew the answer, but Will admired how she pushed away the tears when it was time to be cheery for the girls. Never mind the news they carried with them from the doctor’s office, like from a funeral.

  Abby and Olivia had hung a homemade balloon bouquet on the store’s swinging front door. They’d also hand lettered a couple of cute construction paper signs and hung them by the door.

  Congratulations, MoM!

  They could work on their spelling, but the gesture was nice. Even so, it hurt to smile, and Will wasn’t sure he could keep his chin up as both girls rocketed out the screen door. Good thing Michael was out running errands.

  “What’d the doctor say?” Abby reached them first and wrapped her arms around her mom.

  “Is it a boy or a girl?” Olivia asked as she hopped up and down on the dock.

  Stephanie leaned in the doorway with a faint smile, looking more like a parent than a babysitter. She still held a broom and dustpan. It was impressive what she had done in the past few days to bring the store back to life.

  “I’m sorry,” she told them. “They’re so excited about their mommy having a baby, they’ve been telling everybody who’ll listen: the guy who was down here fixing the gas pumps, my parents, everybody. I hope it’s not inappropriate.”

  “Of course, they’re excited.” Merit smiled and hugged her girls. Will wanted to scream, cry, break something. Just not here in front of the kids.

  “Excuse me, please.” He hurried through the store, slipped into the storeroom, and shut the door behind him with a sigh. Stephanie had already organized the newly stocked shelves, probably alphabetically. He’d never met anyone so organized. How old was she anyway? Nineteen? Twenty?

  In the dark, he couldn’t tell what had been done or which way was up. He fumbled for the light switch but only found something that made a lot of racket when it hit the floor and spilled all over his feet. Fishing lures or licorice whips, he wasn’t sure.

  “And you know what?” he asked the darkness as he slammed his fist against the wall. “Ask me if I care!”

  He fell to his knees, groping in the darkness for whatever had spilled and fighting the emotion once more. He imagined himself alone for the first time, trying to raise the kids without his wife, then scolded himself for thinking any of this was about him and not about Merit.

  He found himself kneeling in a squiggling mess of plastic worms, probably SquiggLures or some other lame invention that was supposed to attract bigger fish.

  Ask me if I care. He grabbed a handful of lures and flung them against the far wall. He thought he had run out of tears back in the car with Merit, but somehow his frustration found more.

  “A boy?” he challenged the darkness. “Or a girl?”

  His fingers closed around a stray can, and he sent it flying as well. It must have hit a shelf, as fishing lures rained down in the dark. He wildly swept them away, swept away the sobs, gasped for breath.

  What kind of God…

  He would have done more damage, but the door squeaked open and the tall figure of Pastor Bud Unruh stood framed in the light from the store. Fortunately, Bud found the light switch a bit more handily than Will had.

  “You all right?” What else would someone ask if they discovered a man with tears streaming down his face kneeling in a pile of plastic worms? “Steph said you were back here, but…did you lose something?”

  Will cleared his throat and sniffled. Maybe the tears didn’t show.

  “Couldn’t find the light switch.”

  Bud looked at him sideways. “You sure you’re all right?”

  Will dropped the worms and got to his feet, brushing himself off as he did. He would have pushed his way out, but the large man still blocked the way, and he didn’t look like he planned to move.

  “My boat’s at the gas dock,” Bud told him.

  Will turned his face to wipe away the last tears as discreetly as he could. Probably too late.

  “I’ll get you some gas,” he said. “Pumps are working now, I hear.”

  “Thanks, I have plenty. That’s not what I mean. I’m going out for an hour or so to clear my head before I jump back into next week’s sermon. I thought maybe you’d want to come along.”

  “Uh, no thanks. I’ve got a to-do list as long as your arm.”

  Bud didn’t move. “Just an hour then? I could use the company. Sometimes it helps me get my thoughts in order when I have someone to bounce them off of. I’d really appreciate it.”

  Will thought for a moment before giving in to the man’s persistence. What did it matter now anyway? Another hour? Another week? Today the entire rotation of his world had been turned on it’s head.

  He sighed. “All right. Sure.”

  He followed the big man through the store, trying not to look at Stephanie and the others, who were unpacking boxes and setting up a small candy shelf. They must have heard him wrecking the storeroom. Maybe they wouldn’t notice the mess until later.

  “We’ll be back in an hour or two,” Bud announced with a wink at his daughter. “Sermon preparation, you know.”

  “Don’t forget your fishing pole,” she replied, but her concerned eyes were on Will, like he was a puppy in need of extra care.

  Bud held the door open, and they walked to Amazing Grace. He watched Will looking at the house.

  “I saw her heading up there,” he said. “She looked fine.”

  Appearances can be deceiving, Will thought.

  A minute later, they were powering away from the dock and out toward the middle of the bay. Bud waved and shouted at all the sailors he recognized, which was just about everyone.

  “Looking for some wind, Jake?” he called to the first sailboat, motionless on the glassy water.

  Jake waved back. “You pray some down for me, Pastor.”

  Bud laughed and turned his attention back to driving.

  Once they were past the no-wake zone, he glanced at Will. “Sometimes the point out here is not going anywhere in particular.” He stood and vacated his seat. “Here, you take the wheel for a while.”

  “Uh…” Will hesitated, but Bud waved him across. And since the little boat tipped when the big man moved to the other side, Will did as he was told and got behind the wheel. Why had he agreed to come?

  They settled into their respective seats, and Will edged up the throttle. Where to? He guessed Bud
had already given him as much direction as he was going to get.

  They headed south toward Buttonhook Bay, which seemed to suit Bud just fine. He asked how the cleanup at the resort was going, though he must have had a pretty good idea already.

  Will told him it was going great and that Stephanie was quite the worker. The docks were floating again, the gas pump was working, and the store was almost ready to reopen.

  Pastor Bud listened and nodded at all the good news. “Cognitive dissonance.” He pronounced the words like a college professor giving a psychology lecture.

  “I’m sorry,” Will said. “Did you say what I thought you said?”

  “Yup. Cognitive dissonance. The stress you get when you hold on to two ideas that clash. You know, when people actually start believing their own lies?”

  “Yeah, I guess I knew what that meant.”

  “Like the UFO doomsday cult. Remember those poor folks? Even after their leader was ousted—arrested, I think—and none of his end-time predictions came true, they still went out and recruited more suckers. In fact, more than ever.”

  “I remember that. They were on the news.”

  “Yeah,” continued the pastor, “they had to know the truth, but somehow they conned themselves. Despite everything, even when their world had collapsed around them, they kept up appearances. They believed the lie that all was well, even when life had blown up in their faces. You understand how that works?”

  Will shook his head. “I sure don’t.”

  Or maybe he did.

  “Hmm. Anyway, I thought I’d tackle it in my next sermon on Genesis. All’s not right in the garden, but God is still in control. If we look outside ourselves, there really are answers. But if we don’t, all we have left is cognitive dissonance, and we’re just fooling ourselves big time. Why don’t you come?”

  “Oh, you mean this Sunday?” Will stalled. So that was why the pastor invited him out here. “I still have a lot of—”

  “I know. You have a lot of work. We all do.”

  Funny how Pastor Bud could lob that kind of jab into the conversation with a gentle smile. If he were a boxer…