Love Rebuilt

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Love Rebuilt Page 22

by Delancey Stewart


  *

  Convincing Cam to leave Jess so that the hospital staff could do the things that were required of them was nearly impossible. He wasn’t hysterical, or unreasonable. He was a mountain of man, a wall of misery, and he could not be moved. He stood at her bed, holding her hand and being with her. Seeing him this raw and torn apart broke my heart and there were moments when I wanted to run. I didn’t see this part of losing my mother. I left my father and Cam to do it, and now I understood some of the resentment that Cam felt. How do you leave someone who has been such a fundamental part of your life? How do you walk away, leave the hospital and go back to your life? Just get in your car and drive away, leaving them there and returning to your life like you’d been on a visit to the grocery store or the hair salon?

  I didn’t know how to do it, and so I wasn’t much help to Cam. But I was there. And I wasn’t going anywhere until he did.

  It was the tenacious nurse who finally pulled Cam away from Jess’s bedside and moved him backward so the staff could get close enough to do the things they needed to do.

  “She’s gone, Cameron. And it’s time for you to let her go,” she said, standing in front of him with a practiced sympathy on her face. The fact that she had probably done this many times didn’t make her words sound less true, though. “There’s no need for you to stay here. She’s free to come with you now. She’s not bound by the body that was failing, or by the pain. Now she can stay right here with you. She’ll always be with you.” She put a small rosy hand on his heart, her fire red nails glowing against his black shirt. “She’s here now.”

  Cameron stared at her, and then nodded. He thanked her quietly, placed a final kiss on Jess’s lips, and then walked out of the room.

  Connor and I followed him out. “I’ll drive,” I said, taking Cam’s keys from his hand. “Connor will follow us.” I met Connor’s eyes and he nodded.

  Cam stopped walking and turned around. My heart sank. He was never going to leave the hospital. He headed back to the room.

  Connor and I watched him, neither of us sure what to do.

  Cam turned as he got to the door. “I forgot the book,” he said. He went inside and then reappeared, clutching the photo book to his chest.

  That night was hard. We took Cam to his house, where Jess was everywhere around us. Her prescriptions were lined up on the kitchen counter, her green crocheted slippers next to the chair in the living room. Her knitting lay abandoned, a scarf half-finished, in the seat of the chair.

  I hadn’t been to my brother’s house since we were both in our twenties, and it was strange to see him living in such a domestic environment. The last place I’d visited him had been an apartment shared by three other adult male roommates, none of them especially concerned with keeping the place clean. But this house that he and Jess had shared was immaculate.

  Cam sat at the kitchen table, turning through the pages of the book I’d given him. We sat with him, and Connor made coffee and pancakes. Cam ate a few bites and finally rose. “I’m going to get some sleep,” he said.

  I nodded.

  Cam turned around a few feet from the table. “You don’t have to stay, Maddie.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have anywhere else I need to be. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

  Something softened in the lines around Cam’s mouth, and he turned without saying anything else, disappearing down a hallway. I heard a door shutting in the back of the house, and tried not to imagine how hard it would be for him to be in the room he shared with Jess, surrounded by her personal things, laying down in a bed that smelled like her. Then again, I wondered if that might be a comfort to him.

  I didn’t know what to do, and once Cam was gone, my own strength threatened to fail. I lay my head on my arms as I sat at the round white table and let the tears come. Connor was next to me, stroking my back. I couldn’t imagine the pain my brother felt, but I was crying for so much of my own life that had been lost because I was simply not present. My family had been through this once before and I’d abandoned them to it. And I couldn’t fathom the difficulty my brother had confronted in deciding to put my father into an assisted living facility—what a painful choice that had to be. And again, I wasn’t there.

  I let the tears come out, and Connor didn’t interrupt or ask for explanation.

  Somehow, after a time, I found myself in Connor’s arms, crying softly against his chest, and I felt my anguish nearing an end. I let him hold me after the pain had stopped working through me, and took strength from his quiet presence. Finally, I pulled away.

  His eyes shone as he released me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I think I’m done.”

  He shook his head, telling me that it was fine.

  “I can’t believe she’s gone,” I whispered, as if hearing me say the words could cause my brother any more pain than he must already feel. I was talking about Jess, but I was also talking about my mom. And in some ways, myself—the younger version of me that hadn’t yet failed those I loved.

  I hoped Cam was sleeping by now, relieved of his suffering for a few blissful hours. He needed them. “I can’t believe I barely got to know her. I missed the wedding,” I said, looking into the endless blue of Connor’s eyes as he took my hands. “I missed everything. All the big moments. And my mom…everything.”

  I wasn’t making a lot of sense, but Connor and I had talked enough before that he knew many of the mistakes I’d made while entangled with Jack, so he had some context for my babbling. He shook his head.

  “You got to know Jess,” he said. “And if your mother were here, I can’t see any way that she wouldn’t forgive you.”

  I shook my head.

  “Maddie,” Connor said, pulling my attention again. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this.”

  “About my family?”

  He nodded. “And mine. And you and me. The river, the past.” He took my hands into his own, and for a moment I marveled at the size of his and drew comfort from the sensation of being taken care of, being warmed. “I think we’ve made some mistakes,” he said. “By letting the singular moments in our life define us. I’ve lived most of my life struggling with the failures I’ve known—my inability to save the people I loved. And so I let that day with you on the riverbank, and all the failures that followed, determine who I would be. I believed that those moments in time described me completely. Defined me.”

  I nodded. I could rattle off the long list of wrong turns that had resulted in the person I was today.

  “But I’ve been wrong. I think so many of us are wrong. The big moments in our lives? They don’t define us. What makes us who we are is the way we spend all those little moments in between. The things that we do every single day…those are our opportunities, and those reveal us in ways that our reactions in the big, adrenaline-fueled moments never could.”

  I stared at him, wondering if he was right.

  “I think what happened that day on the riverbank has been controlling both of us in some way. I live every day, hanging on to the one time in my life when I felt that I was in control…but if you look at the rest of my life, I’ve been in control all along. And I’ve been making choices each moment that left me where I was when we met. But I couldn’t own them. I was too busy focusing my energy on the things I’d done wrong, the places I’d left, the people I’d failed, and on that one moment where I believed I’d been a success.”

  That made sense. I let my mind work around his words, pulling moments from my own life up to examine. In so many ways, I realized, that day on the riverbank had defined me too. I was the little girl who got a second chance. My parents and brother had always protected me from everything, and I lived as a child knowing that death was never far away, though I barely remembered those moments when I was in between life and death, when Connor had pulled me back.

  I’d been protected, and I’d hated it, and so I’d escaped. I’d run out into the world naive and vulnerable, and there Jack had been, waiting t
o step into the void of need that my family had created in me. And I’d defined myself then by being Jack’s girlfriend, and his wife. I’d let him tell me who I was, and Connor was right—it was all the big moments that I held onto. The wedding, the trips, the affair.

  I nodded. “I think I see what you’re saying.”

  Connor smiled. “I don’t think we should forget the in-between time anymore,” he said.

  I leaned into his arms, feeling lighter somehow. I had seen my life in the shape of peaks and valleys, and suddenly I saw an open field instead, and a sense of calm washed through me. I could move forward from now. I didn’t have to start at yesterday, or last year, or the day my mother died.

  After a few moments, I stood and wiped my face. “I think there are probably some details that need to be handled,” I said.

  Connor nodded, and we got to work.

  *

  Jess had known she was dying, and so she’d left specific and detailed instructions for the way she wanted things to be handled. She didn’t have much family, but a few aunts and cousins needed to be called. She had prepared them all ahead of time, so there was little surprise from the other end of the line when I made those painful calls, just a lot of sadness. There would be a small service, and Jess had chosen a plot beneath a big shade tree in a cemetery beneath the Hollywood Hills.

  Cameron didn’t cry again, at least not that I ever saw, though I’m sure in his darker moments he wasn’t the stoic pulled-together man who walked through the service with haunted eyes.

  When it was over, we took him out to eat, the three of us sitting silently around a table in a busy restaurant near Cam’s house.

  “Thanks for everything you’ve done,” Cam said, holding his beer bottle at an angle and pulling at the label, not meeting my eyes.

  “Don’t even say that,” I said. Even though I thought Connor was right—that the things we’d failed at in our lives shouldn’t define us, but should be another thread in the tapestry of our lives—I felt guilty for the ways I’d let Cam down in the past. “I will always be here when you need me.”

  He glanced up at me, his dark eyes uncertain.

  I’d have to win his trust back, I knew that. It hurt, but I’d lost it, and I’d have to do the work to regain it, no matter how long it took.

  “What are you going to do now?” Cam asked me.

  I stared past him out the plate glass window to the busy street beyond. What was I going to do?

  “Will you stay in the mountains?” he asked.

  I nodded without thinking about it. “I want to build the house,” I said finally. “And see where things go with Connor.” I took his hand across the table, hoping the little gesture of affection wouldn’t somehow injure my brother who had lost the love of his life.

  Cam switched his intense focus to Connor, and then nodded, a small smile on his lips. “I like that idea.”

  Connor grinned at us both, and then tempered the bright smile by picking up his drink and taking a swig.

  “I’m happy to see you guys happy,” Cam said. “You never looked happy with Jack. Even at your wedding. You looked worried.”

  I thought about that. I had been worried. I’d been worried that if every little detail wasn’t perfect, Jack might change his mind. Nothing ever felt certain about his love for me, and I was constantly worried about accidentally losing it. “I wasn’t happy.”

  Cam narrowed his eyes at me, his head tilted slightly to one side. “I thought maybe we could go see Dad,” he said.

  I’d talked to my father on the phone weekly for years. But I hadn’t seen him in just as long. I’d stayed away, feeling like that was Cameron’s territory. And if Cam wasn’t speaking to me, I didn’t want to accidentally bump into him on his turf. I’d been a coward. I nodded. “I’d like that.”

  “I can find ways to entertain myself,” Connor said.

  “No,” I shook my head, squeezing his hand. “I’d like you to meet my father.”

  Cam nodded.

  “Do you think that will confuse him?” Connor asked.

  I looked to Cam to answer.

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He met Jess. He liked her. He might not have understood exactly how she fit into our lives, but he was kind to her.”

  “Will you come?” I asked Connor.

  “Of course,” he said.

  I looked at the man beside me, and experienced a brief flash of awe. He held my hand in his strong hand, but his unmoving strength was at my side—a comfort in itself. He was kind and generous, smart and insightful. And his broad shoulders and chiseled jaw didn’t hurt either. A strong wave of love washed through me suddenly, and I leaned toward him, bumping his shoulder with my own.

  He smiled and put an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me to him.

  Cameron raised his bottle to us silently, and then turned his eyes away as he drank.

  Chapter 21

  It wasn’t a short trip from Cam’s house in LA to the place where Dad was living up north, but Cam wanted to go. He didn’t feel like he could go straight back to work in light of everything that had happened, so he made a few calls while we put our things together the next morning, and then we all set out. Connor and I drove, and Cam insisted on following on his bike. I gave up trying to convince him to ride with us when Connor suggested that the mind-numbing ride up Interstate 5, coupled with the wind and vibration of the motorcycle, might be a good thing for a man with a lot on his mind.

  I checked repeatedly behind us, and Cam was always there, the dark helmet, leathers, and dangerous-looking motorcycle, giving me unwanted flashes of Mad Max movies I’d seen as a kid. Cam’s bike was some Harley hybrid thing. He’d explained it when Connor had asked him, calling it a Zero-T5. Connor had looked impressed. At least Cam was talking. I had been a little worried he might send us away and sink into himself.

  It took the whole day, but eventually we pulled up outside a long low building with a glass atrium pushed out front and manicured bushes reaching out on either side toward the parking lot. The building was lined with wide grassy walkways that held benches, flowers and plenty of folks sitting and strolling in the late afternoon sun.

  Cam fastened his helmet to his bike and led us inside.

  “Visitors for Bill Turner.”

  The woman behind the desk smiled at Cam, despite the fact that he looked like some half-crazed mercenary with his leathers on and his face lined with dirt from the exhausting ride. The dead look in his eyes didn’t help. “You’re, uh, family?”

  I nodded and stepped up. “We are. Daughter and son. And friend.” I grasped Connor’s hand.

  She made a quick call, pointing us to a set of chairs. A few minutes later, a man appeared, wearing jeans and a button-down shirt. I didn’t know if he was a doctor or some kind of orderly. He looked like he might be visiting another patient.

  “Hi Cam,” he said, clearly having met my brother before. “I’m Alex.” He stretched a hand out for me to shake.

  I stood and took it. “I’m Maddie, I’m Cam’s sister, and my boyfriend Connor.”

  “Good to see you. Cam, glad you’re back.”

  We all stood.

  “You chose a good day. Bill’s been lucid for the last few hours. We thought about calling you actually, Cam, but with the long drive, we were worried that you’d get here and it’d be too late. Your timing is incredible. Come on back.”

  He waved a badge at the doors beside the desk and they opened for us. We walked down a hallway and then through a well-furnished and stylish lounge area that looked like a huge living room where many people sat playing cards, knitting, and watching television. While we walked, Alex talked about Dad, and about how well he was doing.

  Soon we came to another hallway, and Alex led us to a doorway. Through the open door, I could see a man sitting outside the room on a small exterior patio, his back to us. There were two other people out there with him, and they were all laughing together. A shock of recognition went through me as the man
turned his head slightly. It was my dad, but it wasn’t. I could only see him in profile, but I would recognize the chin and nose anywhere. The thing that shook me was that his familiar features were set beneath a shock of unruly white hair, and the lean in the frail shoulders was nothing like the strong man I remembered, the man who’d swung me around in the air.

  I hadn’t seen Dad in the same three years that Cam and I had been apart. And he had changed a lot. My heart threatened to crumple from the weight of guilt and sadness, but I took a deep breath and determined to be strong.

  Alex went out and spoke to him while we waited, and Dad turned to gaze through the open doorway, a look of wonder on his face. I heard him exclaim, “I don’t believe it!”

  Shame at my absence flooded me as he came inside, moving slowly, to pull me into his arms and bury his face in my shoulder.

  “Maddie! My Peach. I’m so happy you came.”

  I found Connor’s eyes over Dad’s shoulder as I hugged him, and tried to push away the regret that was washing through me when I thought about how much Dad had changed in so short a time.

  “And Cameron. Son.” He stepped back and then pulled Cam into his arms. “You aren’t eating enough. You look terrible.” He grinned at us as he released Cam and then turned to Connor. “Aren’t you that writer fellow?” To my surprise, Dad turned and picked up a book from a side table. Connor’s face gazed out from the back cover, and Dad nodded at it.

  Connor smiled and put out his hand. “I am. Connor Charles, sir.”

  “This is my boyfriend, Dad,” I said.

  “Your asshole husband okay with that?” Dad asked, waving us to sit down.

  This was the first time Dad had referred to Jack at all since our wedding. Every time I’d spoken with him recently, he’d rewound time and had me back in grad school. Before Jack.

  “We’re divorced,” I said.

  “Well that’s a relief,” he laughed.

  “You’re a Connor Charles fan?” I asked him. I hadn’t thought of Dad reading at all, let alone gritty thrillers.

 

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