Happily Ever After

by Susan May Warren

  After this morning, she longed to trust him with her dreams. But how could she count on a man whose worldly possessions consisted of a ratty duffel bag and a sad mutt? The man looked poised to bolt every time he returned from one of his mysterious outings. She often wondered if the roar of his rattletrap truck leaving the Footstep would be the last thing she ever heard from him.

  Brian might have all the charm of a largemouth bass, but he was sticking around for the long haul, despite his pain. He was a friend she could count on. Joe, however, was a supernova in her life—dazzling her blind for a moment before he fizzled out and all went dark.

  The air smelled wet, and along the dark horizon something sinister gathered in the black rolling clouds. The choppy lake water peaked white, and angry waves threw foam high onto shore. A greedy wind tugged at Joe’s baseball cap. He scraped it off his head and threw it onto his sweatshirt, heaped on the sidewalk. Repositioning the shovel, he spaded another chunk of matted grass, chopped it up, and turned it over. The welts in the grass where the truck had settled for most of the day appeared fatal. But if he dug them up tonight and the approaching storm worked the soil, the ground would be fertile and ready for new sod in the morning. He wanted Mona’s grass to be a beautiful, unscathed carpet by opening day.

  Joe heard the front door open and glanced toward the house. Liza stood on the porch and held out a cup of coffee. Joe smiled and waved. “Just a second. I’ll be right up.” He had to admit, Liza’s quirky humor and ready smile had softened all the rough, hard moments of the day. Joe was thankful for her calming presence.

  For some unknown reason, Mona had spent the day dodging him. When they did talk, her remarks were clipped and cold, and he couldn’t help wonder where the delightful, teasing Mona had gone. Had he been blind, living in a dream the past week? She hadn’t even mentioned their kiss, avoided him like he had leprosy, and made it plain she wasn’t going to get close enough to let him wrap his arms around her again.

  Well, he couldn’t blame her. And it was probably for the best—for both of them. A sour ball of regret settled in his chest. It hurt that she thought he had flooded her basement. But it was nice of her to let him stay on, even if he did pay for the sewage services. He knew she’d repay him if she had to sell the shirt off her back or her rusty Chevette, Noah. Why did she call it that?And why would a woman nearly thirty years old drive a beater she probably bought in high school? He couldn’t believe the clunker still puttered along, although on the occasions he heard her drive it, he recognized the death coughs and fatal ticks of a car headed toward the junk heap.

  Sacrifice. The Chevette screamed it. Mona was sacrificing everything to make her dream come true. Liza’s words replayed in his head. If it doesn’t happen, I don’t know what she’ll do. Why was this bookstore so important to her? What drove her?

  Joe turned over the last shovel of grass, chopped it into chunks, and smoothed it out. He would rake it in the morning. Shouldering the shovel, he swiped up his hat, plunked it on his head, grabbed his sweatshirt, and headed for the porch.

  Liza sat on the top step, cradling a coffee mug. A wisp of steam curled off the surface. His stomach growled at the rich scent. Hearing it, Liza cracked a grin. “I don’t think coffee’s going to silence that monster.”

  Joe returned the smile and plopped down next to her. She handed him the warm mug. The drink soothed his tired bones. “Thanks, Liza.”

  She shrugged. “Actually—and don’t tell Mona I told you—she made it and suggested I bring it out here.”

  “Really? I thought I rated lower than pond scum. I’ve been chilly all day from her frigid looks.”

  Liza laced a strand of her long black hair between her fingers, examining it. “I know she can be cold when she’s frustrated and hurting. Give her a chance to get her feet back under her. She’ll warm up.”

  Joe took another sip of coffee. “I hope so. I can’t handle two storm fronts.” He gestured at the lake and the approaching thunderheads.

  Liza hummed agreement.

  “Can you tell me something, Liza?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why does Mona call her car Noah?”

  “How did you know that?”

  Joe stared at the lake. “She must have mentioned it.”

  Liza rolled the hair around her fingers. “It’s a long story, but suffice it to say she drove her car into a pond.”

  “What?”

  Liza grinned. “Okay, I’ll tell you the story, but you have to promise, even under the vise of torture, never to reveal how you found out.”

  Joe crossed his fingers and held them in a salute.

  “Okay.” Liza flicked her hair back and leaned back on both her hands. “I think she was a junior in college. She was dating this fella, who, in my opinion, was trouble with a giant letter T . His name was Terrance. All brawn, no brains, and even now she isn’t sure what she ever saw in him. Anyway, his car was broken and he called her one night during a downpour and asked her for a lift home from work. Her father warned her not to go out, but she was stubborn and didn’t listen.

  “The way she tells it, she made a left turn onto what was normally a road and found herself afloat in an ark, drifting toward the curb. She climbed out of the window, pushed her car to high ground, and hiked to Terrance’s office. Her father had to bail them both out. The next morning, the sun was high and bright and baked the car like a fish on shore. She said she couldn’t ride with the windows closed for three months.” Liza giggled and her eyes danced with glee.

  Joe shook his head, smirking. “No wonder her car is frosted in rust. Why didn’t she buy a new one? That beater must be over ten years old.”

  Liza shook her head. “I’m not sure. Her dad bought her Noah, and maybe she just can’t part with it. And she’s always trying to save money, you know.”

  Joe sipped his coffee. “Her father sounds like a wise man. I’d like to meet him.”

  The seagulls screamed from the shore, a loud cacophony with the charging waves. He shivered.

  “You can’t,” Liza said quietly. “He was killed ten years ago.”

  Downed branches and torn leaves littered the road to the Garden, the legacy of the previous night’s tempest. Joe swerved his pickup around bottomless puddles, trying not to eject a stiff-legged Rip from the bench seat. The forest breath blew a pine scent through the truck cab’s open window, and when the wind stirred the trees, droplets covered the windshield.

  Joe’s eyes burned and weariness dragged his shoulders down, although not because he’d already put in a full day’s work. Unraveling the mystery behind Mona’s haunted eyes made him toss the night away in sleepless eternity. Did it have something to do with her father’s death? The news had made him want to weep. Joe knew what it meant to lose a father.

  Just as disturbing was the sudden freeze emanating from Mona’s side of their friendship. She all but hid from him yesterday, and his frustration with her fear tied him into knots. So they’d shared a kiss, one that he knew he should never repeat despite the fact it never drifted far from his thoughts. It didn’t mean he was going to take her in his arms their first moment alone. In fact, he was pretty sure he had the internal fortitude to make sure it never happened again. Pretty sure.

  It hadn’t escaped him that the woman had wrung him out in the matter of a week. She’d drawn him in with her mischievous smile, let him splash about in her liquid green eyes, then spit him out into the cold world of rejection. He was feeling about as skinned and raw as the birch trees.

  He’d spent the night listening to the storm slam against his windows and watching battered trees lurch in shadows across his ceiling. Sometime during the gale, he realized why he had always avoided anything complicated with the female persuasion. He didn’t have the strength to endure the wounds and scrapes it took to let someone crawl inside his heart. Love required vulnerability, sharing secrets.

  Eventually it would mean revealing Gabe.

  And wouldn’t that just drive a woman in
to his arms?

  If Joe had inherited any abnormal chromosomes, the type that caused Gabe’s Down syndrome, the possibility of his having such a child was a reality. Could a relationship survive the stress of a handicapped child? His parents’ hadn’t. Even if it could, Mona in particular had no room in her dream for a child, especially a child with special needs. No, letting Mona sneak into his heart was a pivotal mistake. The memory of her sweet lips only turned the blade. He thanked God that she had made it clear he would be job hunting in four weeks. He’d dodge her like a case of the flu, then sever the strings and never look back at the Footstep of Heaven.

  Joe drove up slowly, his wheels sluggish in the mud near the porch.

  Ruby sat in a rocking chair, reading a book in her lap. She glanced up, and he was warmed by her welcoming smile. She trotted down the stairs as he stepped from the cab. Rip spent an entire two seconds greeting her, then scrambled toward the woods, in search of playmates.“We missed you yesterday.”

  “Yup,” Joe acknowledged. “I got tied up with a problem in town.”

  “Doing some business in Deep Haven?”

  “Sort of.” He looked past her. “Is Gabe around?”

  Ruby squinted at him, then nodded. “In his room.”

  Joe took the porch stairs two at a time. He felt Ruby’s eyes on him as he disappeared into the house. She knew way too much for his own good.

  Gabe was sprawled on his bed, running his finger under the neatly printed words of a letter. His mouth moved as he read. Joe watched him for a moment, then greeted him from the door.

  Gabe looked up, delight lighting his features. “Joe!”Joe could never get over the way the day brightened with Gabe’s smile.

  “What are you reading?” Joe hooked his thumbs onto his belt loops. A shadow crossed Gabe’s face. He sat up and swung his feet onto the floor, holding the letter in both hands. The big, bold writing seemed familiar to Joe, and a jolt of pain ripped through him.

  “A letter.” Gabe’s eyes focused on the carpet.

  Joe’s voice cracked in his parched throat. “From whom?”

  “Dad.”

  “Really?” He felt weak as reality hit him square on.Ruby was right. Dad had been writing to Gabe. It took everything in him not to swipe the letter and tear it into pieces.

  Gabe held out the letter. “Want to read it?”

  Joe shuffled back, reeling. “Nope. Thanks.”

  “Why not? It’s from Dad. He misses you.”

  Joe turned from the hideous letter and stared out the window. Why did his father have to come back now?He’d been gone long enough for the wounds to scab over. Joe closed his eyes, his emotions raw.

  He didn’t want to run. Despite Mona’s cold shoulder, something pulsed inside him to stay, to forsake even the unfinished business deal throbbing at the fringes of his brain, and dive into this one final project. Besides, wouldn’t turning tail and stalking out of Gabe’s room shred every beautiful thread he’d woven into their new brotherhood? Perhaps Ruby was right. He might solve this problem better by sticking around. His father had run. Joe wouldn’t. “Let me see the letter.”

  Joe’s hands shook despite his resolve to stay calm.Even after eighteen years, he could hear his father’s baritone as he read his words:

  Dear Gabriel,

  Thank you for the pictures of the strawberries. I see you have added a number of beds. Do you think you’ll win another award this year?

  It is warm here. I was out near Lake Calhoun yesterday watching the sailboats. They look like swans gliding across the water. Do you remember the flamingos we saw at the zoo last summer? I saw a sailboat with a sail the exact color.

  My new company is going very well. We specialize in restorations now, and our reputation is growing. Although I am busy, I am planning on taking a vacation this summer. I will come to see you. Maybe we can go fishing, like we did last time.

  Have you heard from Joe? Where is he now? Did he write to you from Canada? I hope he is well. I miss him. I miss you too.

  Love,

  Dad

  Joe closed his eyes and pushed back a wave of hurt. He misses me? Right. He misses me about as much as he misses a case of lice. His heart throbbed.How dare he ask about me? He hasn’t given me a second thought since he let the screen door slam behind him. Joe saw himself, a boy of fifteen, standing at the kitchen door, willing his father to turn around, to simply say good-bye. But his father had left without sparing a backward glance. Refusing to cry, he’d watched his father’s prize Ford Mustang peel out, its perfectly tuned engine taking him to places far away.

  Joe had felt something inside rip asunder. It had taken him eighteen years to sew it back together. He’d run before he had to face that kind of pain again.

  His father had betrayed them all, and now he was writing letters to Gabe. Bitterness seized Joe. He battled an urge to crumple the letter. Instead, he handed it back to Gabe. Gabe folded it and slipped it into a plain white envelope. A thick silence wedged between them.

  Gabe’s eyes were red-rimmed, and Joe saw his brother’s question written on his face before he voiced it. “Why don’t you like Dad?”

  Joe’s voice was tight. “Why do you think?”

  “Because he left us,” Gabe softly answered. “He left Mom and you.”

  “And you.”

  “I know.” Gabe wrung his hands together. “But he’s sorry.”

  Joe folded his arms across his chest. “It doesn’t matter. He ran out on us.” His voice pinched. “He left us. He broke Mom’s heart. It was his fault she died. She worked so hard; it was probably her ulcer that caused her stomach cancer.”

  “Mom didn’t say that,” Gabe retorted. “She said Dad was different. That he changed. Dad is a Christian now.”

  Joe frowned. “I don’t believe it. He probably said that to worm back into our lives.” Into my life. “Besides, how did Mom know?” A knot tightened in his stomach.

  “They came here right before Mom died. That’s when I met him. She told me.”

  Joe winced and drew in a painful breath. “He came back? How come Mom never told me?”

  “She didn’t have time. She got sick fast. When you came home, Dad was afraid to talk to you.” Gabe’s voice, straining to form the words, betrayed his fear in pitch and tone.

  “They were together when she died, and she didn’t tell me?”

  Gabe nodded.

  Joe’s eyes stung. He gritted his teeth against the pain that threatened to shred him anew. Why had she kept it from him? He realized that to Gabe it was simple. Dad had been gone, and now he was back. But Joe wanted more thorough answers. Why had Dad left? And why had Mom kept the truth from him? He clutched his head with his hands, feeling her loss like a fresh blow. Even when she died, he’d found the truth hard to accept. He’d flown in, spent the day with Gabe, and escaped before the sun had set. He’d berated himself a thousand times for his callousness, but he’d done it to survive. If he’d stayed, he would have shattered. And then who would have been there to pick up the pieces?

  “Mom said she forgave him, Joe. And she wanted you to do it too.”

  Fury curdled Joe’s composure. “No! How could I?He let her work herself to the bone, and he left you.”

  “He left you too.” Ruby stood at the door, her hands in her pockets.

  Joe glared at her. “This is a private conversation.”

  “It’s so private I can hear you down the hall.”

  Joe clenched his jaw and ran his gaze up to the ceiling. “You don’t understand, Ruby. You haven’t been here long enough. You don’t know the history.”

  “I’ve met your father. I know he deeply regrets his actions. I know he’s trying to make it up to Gabe. He would like to make it up to you too.”

  “He won’t get the chance.”

  Ruby raised her eyebrows. “Why? Are you going someplace? Running out on Gabe, just like your father ran out on you?”

  Joe tried to strangle her with a look, but Ruby didn’t flinch. �
��You have no right.”

  “I call it like I see it, Joe. I see you running all over the world, afraid to turn around and face the past.”

  “I’m not afraid. And I’m not running. Somebody has to earn a living to pay for Gabe’s room and board. Our no-account father isn’t going to do it.”

  Ruby crooked a finger at him. “Follow me.”

  Joe cast a look at Gabe, who watched him with wide eyes. Why did his brother have to hear this? Hadn’t he had enough pain? Joe drew a shuddering breath and stalked down the hall.

  Ruby was in her office, flipping through a file. She held it out to Joe. He pasted her with a look of annoyance, then scanned the paper. It was the rundown of monthly services at the Garden. The total seemed significantly higher than his automatic monthly payment.

  “Ever wonder why your payment hasn’t been raised in four years? Look around you. This place has been completely overhauled. And you haven’t paid one red cent more. Why? Because your father’s been filling the gap.”

  Joe closed his eyes. Frustration boiled through him.

  Why was his father interfering with his responsibilities?

  Why couldn’t his father leave Gabe and him alone? He opened his eyes and handed the file back to Ruby. He must have worn a wretched expression, for her anger dissolved and pity entered her face.

  “Joe, don’t you think it’s time to forgive and be a family again? For yourself as much as for Gabe. You’ve made a good living these past years, and I know you’re trying to help your brother, to tell him you love him. But he needs you, not your letters. Please consider staying.”

  “I can’t,” he rasped. “I have a brother who depends on what I do. And if I stuck around, someone could get hurt. We both know that.” He challenged her to argue with the look in his eyes.

  The wall clock ticked; the plush carpet gobbled the sound. In the kitchen, a group of residents laughed while wiping supper dishes. Joe felt Ruby’s eyes on him, and he suddenly wanted to sink into the leather couch and hide.