by Nicole Young
I popped acetaminophen like breath mints until I was safely back in Michigan airspace. My final connection touched down late afternoon, two days after I left Churchill Falls. I rented a car for the trip back to Port Silvan, glad to have the freedom of my own wheels the next few days before flying back to Del Gloria. I could visit Brad and take care of loose ends without inconveniencing Puppa, who’d already bent over backward to accommodate my resurrection. Besides, I’d left my grandfather with the impression I’d taken up permanent residence in Churchill Falls. I had enough explaining to do.
The familiar backdrop of snow-covered pines whizzed past on the highway. Most of all, I dreaded telling Puppa of Candice. His words rang in my head: “not infected with cancer… infected with love.” How would I tell him his love was dead?
And what of my love?
Rapid River, then Silvan Corners. The drive flew by, my mind no closer to a strategy for dealing with Brad, college, or the lodge. Cupid’s Creek, the sign for the cider mill. Then the blink-and-you-miss-it drive through Port Silvan.
I pressed on the gas at the curve out of town. A mile up, I slowed at Puppa’s white fences, turning down the driveway to the lake house.
He was at the door, a surprised look on his face, as I walked across the porch.
“What happened? Are you okay?” He hugged me, then ushered me to the living room.
“Long story,” I said. “Do you have any tea?”
“I’ll make a pot. Sit.” He left the room.
I stared out the bank of windows at the snow-globe scene on the other side of the bay, with its row of cottages on the shore and church steeple in the distance.
In a moment Puppa joined me.
“Tell me everything,” he said.
“Not sure you want to hear everything.” I blinked back tears. “It’s not all good.”
But somehow I made it through the detailed version of Candice showing up at the hotel room, my dash to warn Dad of trouble, meeting the sisters I never knew I had, the near-death experience at the plant, and Candice’s final act of love toward Puppa’s family.
Somewhere between Simon Scroll showing up and Candice falling into the river, the teapot whistled. Puppa set us up with two cups and urged me to continue.
He hadn’t said a word during my entire monologue. And now, as I wrapped up the details of the missing Jacob Russo’s life, Puppa just sat there, tears streaming down his cheeks while he listened.
When I was done, Puppa shook his head. “My boy turned into a fine man. I’m glad you got to meet him, Patricia.”
I sniffled and wiped at my eyes. “Me too. And I know you will again someday.”
From his seat in Grandma Olivia’s rocker, Puppa stared into the distance. “That’s not so important anymore. All God’s promises came to be. He took care of Jacob when I couldn’t. He took care of you when Jacob couldn’t. And-” he stopped to gain control over his voice-“He even took care of Candice, giving her another chance to make things right before she died.” He wiped his hand across his brow, then covered his face.
I watched him fight his grief, then finally succumb. I gave him a moment alone, then walked over and joined him, crying on his shoulder as I hugged him from above.
He patted my hand. “At least we have each other, Patricia. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t in my life.” Memories of Grandma Amble’s guilt-grip over me flooded my mind. I took a deep breath. “I know how hard this must be for you. You thought you lost me, then you lost your mother, and now Candice.” I stepped back. “It’s going to hurt for a long time. Maybe the rest of your life. But I’ve got to move on with mine.” My future plans suddenly became crystal clear. “I’m going back to Del Gloria in a few days to finish up my degree. It’s not going to slip through my fingers this time.”
He looked at me, confusion, or maybe abandonment written on his face. “That’s not what I expected. I thought now that it’s safe enough to stay, you would…,” he paused as if searching for a delicate way to put it, “you would at least stick around for Brad’s sake.”
I sat on the chair across from him, excited at the clarity cropping up in my plans. “On the way home, I asked myself what I could do that would change Brad’s mind about dying. What could I do that would make him want to live? And I decided that it’s out of my control. It’s really his decision.” I leaned forward, my hands emphasizing my words. “All I can do is show by my example how to choose life. That means I can’t give up on my dreams because someone I love is suffering. That means I move forward with my own plans, cheering him on should he decide to join the living again. It means taking the risk that I could lose him by not catering to his depression. And being even more grateful in the end if we pull through it together.”
Puppa stared at me. “What are they teaching you in California?”
I sat in momentary horror that he disapproved of my reasoning.
A smile broke out on his face. “You’re doing it, aren’t you? You’re figuring life out. I think you may have already passed up this old man in the maturity department. I’m really proud of you, Patricia.” Puppa crouched beside me, taking my chin in his hand. “I think that’s the spirit Brad fell in love with. And it’s exactly what he needs to see now, if he’s going to survive.”
I leaned my forehead against his. “It’s going to be really hard. Every instinct is screaming, ‘Stay and take care of him.’ But,” I shook my head, “that’s not the right thing for either one of us. We’d just feed off each other’s weaknesses until we destroyed every bit of love between us, like what happened between me and Grandma Amble.” Another deep breath. “This way, we stay strong for each other, building each other up as we conquer the obstacles in our own lives. We’ll fight a common enemy instead of making each other the enemy.”
Puppa looked baffled. “Who taught you that?”
I shrugged.
“You’re going to make it, Patricia. You’re going to do just fine.”
“Thanks, Puppa. I probably would have made it anyway. But now I can make it in style.” I scratched my head, grasping for a term that escaped me. “What’s the word used in the Bible?”
“Abundance,” Puppa said. “Now you can live an abundant 340 life.”
“That’s the word I was looking for. I think for me it means a life without fear. I’m sick of deciding stuff based on fear. One thing I’ve figured out-God is with me even if I make a big mistake. And while I want to make the best decisions possible, I don’t have to be afraid of every possible outcome. It’s still His world in the end. And His will.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “If I was only half as trusting as you.” A smile hovered on his face.
“Oh, come on,” I said with a playful smack on his shoulder. “Who do you think taught trust by example? You did. And I’m so grateful. Now,” my gaze flicked to a cobweb in the corner, “I have to see what Brad’s position is on all this.”
“Let’s get supper going and you can visit him first thing tomorrow morning.”
My stomach growled at the mention of food. “Good idea.” I forced my heart to stay calm at the thought of seeing Brad again, pushing back the fear. I was going to be direct with him. Firm. Take charge, just like Monique’s girlfriend had done. And Brad would be thrilled to see me and happy to hear everything I had to say.
But even as Puppa and I walked to the kitchen, I knew that nothing about tomorrow was going to be fun-or easy.
40
Puppa and I ate breakfast together, a silent meal peppered with private emotion.
“Thanks for the eggs,” I said, bringing my dish to the kitchen and rinsing off traces of yolk.
“I’ll do the cleanup, Patricia. You get on with your day.” He squirted dish soap into the sink as it filled with water.
“I don’t mind helping.” I wet a dishcloth and wiped down the dining room table, knowing that any delay in going to see Brad could only be a good thing. I scratched at a piece of food stuck to the wood. What if he still refused to
see me? Candice had said that after I left his apartment last time, he had a crew of doctors in with him the next day. But what if his plans for recovery didn’t include me? Could I handle it?
I gave a final swipe with my cloth. Of course I could. I had plans of my own. That was the whole point. Lives that were separate, but together. Just like things had always been for us.
In the kitchen, I tossed the cloth into the sink. How dumb did that sound? If Brad and I were going to be a couple, we should be together, not apart. But I didn’t want to give up on college. Not this time. Not again. Not for Brad, or for anyone. Finishing up at Del Gloria was something I had to do for myself. I could be part of a couple and still have my own goals, couldn’t I?
By the time the swirling thoughts subsided for a moment, I had both hands planted on the kitchen counter and was on the verge of hyperventilating.
Puppa dried his hands. “Hey. Don’t make this bigger than it is. Brad loves you. It’s going to be okay.”
I nodded and evened out my breathing. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’ll be okay.”
“Get moving, before you talk yourself out of it.” He flicked water at me with his fingers.
I gave a little scream and laughed. “Okay. I’m going.” Upstairs, I checked my hair and makeup one last time, smoothing on a fresh dab of lipstick.
My eyes, with their downward turn in the corners, sparkled in the mirror. My cheeks were rosy, my hair glossy. I looked like a kid on Christmas morning ready to rip open every gift under the tree. I blinked hard, hoping I wasn’t setting myself up for more disappointment.
I made the drive to Manistique. As the snowy landscape passed by, I realized I hadn’t experienced this area in the summertime since I was a kid. I still hadn’t swum in the lake, or watched the fireworks on the Fourth of July, I hadn’t hiked down the jetty to the lighthouse in Manistique Harbor, or explored the boardwalk along the shore. I’d wanted to save all that for Brad. Now it looked like I’d have to do it on my own after all.
The turn for River’s Edge appeared in front of me, as if I’d driven on automatic all the way. I pulled in, hands shaking, stomach cramping, brain seizing.
Inside the assisted living home, I forced my feet to move in the direction of Brad’s apartment. A brass number shone on the door in front of me. I stared at the digits as if they offered some magical escape route. Then I knocked.
Austin answered, wearing his trademark blue scrubs. “Oh. It’s you. Thought you moved to Canada or something.” “Hate to disappoint you. Can I come in, please?” I tried to keep my voice casual and steady.
“Wait here. I’ll see.”
Austin shut the door, leaving me in the hallway. He reappeared a moment later, an amused look on his face. “Yes. You may come in.”
I blew out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “Thanks.” I stepped inside and glanced around the tiny living room/kitchenette combination. I pointed to the bedroom door. “May I?”
“Absolutely.” He stepped aside, one hand ushering me closer to the dreaded moment.
I looked with wonder at Austin, amazed how his attitude had gone from “no way” to “okay” in just over a week. “All right, then. Thank you.” I turned the knob, easing the door open. My eyes shot to the bed. Empty. “You came back.” Brad’s voice came from a chair by the window. All I could see was the top of his head over the tall, leather back. Pillows in white cases spilled over the sides.
I stepped toward him, coming into his line of vision. “Hi.” I leaned against the window ledge, studying his face in the cool light. He’d gotten thinner since I’d first seen him across the fence that separated our backyards in Rawlings. His cheeks seemed a touch on the hollow side, the laugh lines around his eyes looking more like deep wrinkles these days. His body was wedged into the chair and supported by puffs of pillows.
“It’s good to see you out of bed,” I ventured, convinced that anything I said would probably be the wrong thing.
“Thank you.” He seemed to struggle for words. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
My fingers twisted together and I simply stared at him. We were like two strangers who’d never spent time looking into each other’s eyes. Who’d never touched and felt the electricity flow between them. Who’d never put their hearts on the line and told each other their secret hopes and dreams. I could accept that and leave things the way they were, or I could take charge and fight back.
“Of course I’m here. A little bellowing won’t scare me off. You’ll have to do worse than that if you never want to see me again.”
His eyes flickered, as if afraid to hope. “I heard you went to Canada. I didn’t think you’d be back.”
“Long story short, I went there to find Candice and bring her to justice. Instead, I found my father. He’s married and has three daughters.” My face broke out in a smile that couldn’t be suppressed. “I have sisters now.” But dark events blotted out my happiness. “In the end, Candice gave her life to save mine. She paid for what she did to you.” My eyes watered. “I wish I could say I felt better about the whole thing.”
His finger twitched against a pillow, as if asking for comfort. I reached out, slowly, and touched the skin of his hand. I closed my eyes and remembered the soft feel of it against my cheek. Then suddenly I was on my knees in front of him, crushing the warmth of his hand to my face. The blankets on his lap caught my tears as I rubbed his palm to my temple, my cheek, my neck, then my lips. I held his hand there, weeping over it, glad for the warmth and life it contained, but saddened by Brad’s inability to respond to my love.
At the sound of a sniffle, I looked up. Tears ran in rivulets down Brad’s face.
“You still love me?” he asked.
“How do you stop loving someone who is a part of you? My past, present, and future are wrapped up with yours. I’m not giving up my dreams because of a little bullet. You still have your life. Your mind. You’re still the man I fell in love with.”
A cry ripped from his throat. “I want to hold you and I can’t. I want to take care of you and I can’t. Nothing works anymore.”
“Shhh.” I scooted up and put my ear to his chest, basking in the simple sound of his heartbeat. I looked into his eyes. “Your heart works okay. You can still love me.”
His head tilted back against the leather and he looked at some point on the ceiling. “You make it sound so easy. But how’s this going to work in the real world?”
“It’ll work if we say it works.” I gave a shrug of my shoulders and a timid smile. “Neither one of us has lived cookie-cutter lives. Do we really care about what’s considered normal in a relationship?”
He swallowed hard and conquered his voice. “Before all this, you were going to be my wife. We were going to move to Rawlings, have kids, keep the lodge as a summer home, and eventually try living up here. None of that is even a possibility anymore. Would you really give up the hope of a normal life just to be with me?”
I thought hard before I answered. “No. I won’t give up the hope of a normal life to be with you.”
His face clouded over.
I squeezed his hand. “I gave up the hope of a normal life awhile ago when I realized normal and Tish Amble don’t belong in the same sentence. Life’s always going to be a struggle. But I’m making progress. And maybe out of all the chaos I’ve survived, I even have something to offer you-the hope of a happy life without being normal.” I intertwined his fingers with mine. “We can just be ourselves, the people God made us, broken bodies, broken spirits, and all. And maybe we can even help others struggling with the same junk figure out how to be happy too.”
“So,” he choked on his words, “you’ll still marry me?” I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. I couldn’t lie to him. Not when he’d already come so far.
“No. I won’t marry you.” The words came out a whisper. He turned his head, withdrawing from me. “Why not?” Only a whisper.
“Because it’s what I wanted to
do when I was trying to be normal. You know, get married, buy a house, have kids, the whole American formula for happiness.” I leaned my head into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of zesty guy soap. “But I want more. I want to marry you because it’s my heart’s desire, not because it’s the thing to do.” I pulled back and looked at his strong profile. “And I just think that where we’re at, with the separation we’ve been through, with the obstacles we both have to overcome, that now isn’t the time to be talking marriage.”
He looked at me, his old quirky smile on his face. “Then come back tomorrow. We’ll talk marriage then.” I broke into a grin. “You’re an incurable romantic.” On a whim, I climbed onto his lap, snuggling his body to mine. “Am I hurting you?”
He closed his eyes. “Can’t feel a thing.”
I pressed my lips to his ear, swooning in the jolt of electricity from that simple act.
“Listen,” I whispered. “I’m going back to Del Gloria. I’m finishing my degree. I won’t be home until summer.”
There was no answer for some time. I let my lips trail along Brad’s neck as I waited.
Finally he spoke. “You were in here when Denton visited. You must have heard everything.”
I nodded against his cheek. “I did.”
“I’m not proud how I handled it. I love him so much, but I still hold so much against him.”
“I want you to know I stand by you, whatever you decide with him. I sent the professor a letter thanking him for his support, but I won’t be staying with him when I go back out there. It wouldn’t be loyal to you if I did.
He said some really hurtful things to you. And as close as I felt to him for several months, his money and his esteem mean nothing to me compared to you.”