If Lillie were honest, she knew that the children were only an excuse. She avoided the sport because the paddle in her hands made her feel like the woman she used to be, before time and circumstance changed her. Some changes were good, she recognized, and some were neither good nor bad, just necessary. But some changes, the most fundamental ones, were because she’d been afraid.
She picked up the pace of her strokes and felt her heart rate follow suit. When Jonathan left her so abruptly, she’d not known what to do. Before he’d been gone a year, she was home from Russia with a brand new baby. She would not change being Hope or Alex’s mother for anything in the world, but she knew that while most people would call adopting two children from Russia on her own brave, it had, in all actuality been an act of cowardice.
She had been too frightened to figure out who she was. Lillie. Suddenly she’d been no one. Not a daughter, a sister, wife or a mother. She was just Lillie on her own and afraid to navigate a future alone. She’d had tunnel vision back then. The only thing she’d wanted was a baby. She’d let all of the other facets of her life fall by the wayside in her quest. Finally, having no other choice and too frightened to contemplate a life alone, she’d gotten on a plane, flown over the big blue ocean and found Hope. Then Alex had found them, and they’d become a family.
As she quickened the pace, once again, her breath began to come more quickly and sweat pooled on her brow. The best thing she’d ever done was love her children, but there was more too—more to life and more to her.
Lillie had spent a long time simply getting through the days, putting one foot in front of the other, finishing a task or reaching a goal. But was that living? Living, with a capital L?
Lillie shook her head from side to side and paddled for a moment, counting her strokes and matching them to her breathing, trying in vain to shut off her brain. After a bit, she pulled the windbreaker over her head and stowed it under her legs.
“Maybe he left you because he couldn’t give you a child. There’s a difference.” Donna’s words reverberated through her mind with every stroke of the paddle. What if Donna was right? What if it was the way it was supposed to happen, the way things were meant to be?
What about Hope and Alex? Where would they have been? Still in an orphanage, worlds away? What about the people Jonathan employed in Whitetail? What about their families? What about the children Jon helped? What would have happened to them? Seemingly, hundreds of lives were better for what they’d each accomplished in their time apart.
Suddenly the paths their lives had taken seemed much more like a carefully orchestrated dance rather than them being the victims of time and circumstance.
Lillie paddled again, harder, until she felt her arms would fall from their sockets. Finally, succumbing to her wobbly muscles, she drew close to the shore and pulled a map and a bottle of water from the portage pack she’d borrowed from Brenna and stowed in the front of the kayak. She drank greedily with one hand as she opened the folded map with the other and positioned it across the bow of her boat.
She traced her route with a finger and she realized she was already within an hour’s paddle and a short portage from Lark Lake and the cabin where she and Jonathan had spent their honeymoon. When she’d seen it on the map she’d been surprised, to say the least. It seemed to her that Jonathan had moved on with his life, swiftly and neatly and had not looked back. But he’d purchased the cabin in which they’d started their life together and when she’d inquired, she’d found out it was vacant that week.
That fact in itself surprised her. The first weeks in June were some of the busiest in the BWCA and most accommodations sold out weeks, if not months or even years in advance. A lovely, isolated spot like Lark Lake would be popular. They must have had a cancellation, she mused.
No matter. She carefully refolded her map and stowed it and her pack below decks once again. She looked at her watch and calculated the time it would take her to reach the cabin and decided to go for it. Why not exorcise all her demons in one day? She’d spend this weekend ferreting all of her ghosts out into the open and maybe...just maybe, she’d go home living life on her own terms.
Lillie pushed away from the shore and back into the vast waters of the BWCA. As she paddled this time, her pace was more sedate and methodical. Her mind wandered to the last time she’d seen Lark Lake and visited this fairy tale cabin.
It had been a nearly surreal time. Their relationship had been a traditional one, and although it had not always been easy, they’d waited to be together until their wedding night. More like their wedding morning, actually, because instead of staying near LaSalle for the night after their afternoon wedding and small reception, Lillie was anxious to be on their way.
“Are you sure you’re not too tired, Lillie-bean?” he’d asked her.
“Nope! I can’t wait to get there and smell the fresh air.”
“Okay then, baby. On our way.” Anxious to please his wife of two hours, Jon had piled their belongings into the car, and they’d headed for the sleepy town of Whitetail, four hours north of Duluth and deep in the Boundary Waters Canoe Area.
Lillie was so happy she’d nearly flown to Minnesota, even though to save money and keep within their meager honeymoon budget they’d had to drive her economical yellow Geo Metro.
When they’d arrived at the car park to transfer their belongings to the large canoe they’d reserved, the sun was just breaking over the horizon. After a long paddle and a portage, Jonathan and Lillie pulled alongside the cabin’s dock in Lark Lake famished and exhausted.
Soon they’d trekked up the path that led from the lake to the cabin dragging their belongings and food for a week. Lillie stumbled into the cabin and froze. “What? Jon? It’s, it’s, it’s…”she stuttered, unable to speak, dazed by the sight before her.
“I didn’t think we’d get here until tonight,” he admitted.
The one room cabin looked like it had been attacked by elves. Daisies crowded nearly every surface, in vases, small bowls and even a soda bottle here and there. Where there wasn’t a vase of flowers there was a white candle. On the table in front of the fireplace was a bottle of Champaign, all ready to be iced. The cabin did not have electricity or indoor plumbing, it was far too remote, but it did have propane lights and refrigeration. The owners brought tanks of propane in over the ice once a year, she knew, from all of the travel information Jonathan had been reading her for months.
Lillie wandered to the small refrigerator, opened the old-fashioned latch and found it stocked with all of their favorites. On top of the small unit, she noticed long matches, extracted one from the container and struck it on the rough surface on the bottom edge of the box. It flared to life, and Lillie wandered around the room, touching the wicks of the stout, wide, pillars of wax as she savored her surroundings. She lit each candle, even though the sun was streaming in the widows and the birds were singing a merry tune.
She neared the fluffy, white, confection that looked to be a feather bed, swaddled in white netting and mounded with pillows. She blew out the flame of her match after lighting the last of the candles. Only then did she turn to her husband, who’d watched her entire journey from a spot near the door. She’d expected to be shy, this first time they’d make love, but she realized she was not at all intimidated.
Lillie began to unbutton her jacket and let it fall to her feet. She untied her boots and kicked them aside as well. She could see Jonathan swallow several times as she neared him. In that moment, whatever nervousness remained flew out the window and sunk to the bottom of their beautiful lake. Jonathan smiled, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. She wasn’t the only one who was nervous.
She loved him with her entire being. That day they began their life together.
“You are so beautiful. “ Jon’s hand moved to tuck a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and then to trace the curve of her cheek. “My angel.”
Lillie did not speak; she just slid into his arms.
* * *
Lillie stared at the cabin through the trees. She couldn’t believe he owned it. Surely, he must still feel something to have purchased it. She remembered about their days here like it was yesterday. After so long it seemed surreal, more a dream than any reality she’d ever lived.
“My angel,” he had called her and it occurred to Lillie, as she carefully uncurled her legs from the kayak and crawled up on the deck, that had been the whole problem. She wasn’t an angel. She was just a woman. Flaws, warts and all, just a real live woman that couldn’t stay atop Jon’s pedestal. She’d made mistakes, but she had learned from them. She’d lost everything, and while she had been hideously afraid, she’d not folded.
She’d gone on with her life and done the best that she could and in the end, she was proud, she realized. Proud of herself and what she had done. Proud of her children and what joyful, happy, thriving little people they were. Proud that she could be here today, face the dragon still lurking from her past and not crumble in despair.
Lillie neared the cabin and climbed the front steps. She reached in her pocket and extracted the key Brenna had given her. She turned it slowly in the lock and the door swung forward on well-oiled hinges.
She walked to the center of the room and drew a deep breath. The cabin looked exactly how she remembered it. The bed swaddled in its elegant veil and candles still adorned nearly every surface. She closed her eyes as she stood and exhaled standing firm against the memories that bombarded her, but stand she did. She opened her eyes and walked to the fireplace. On the mantle was a photo in a familiar antique frame, a wedding present from Donna so long ago, only instead of the two, young grinning faces she’d expected to see, what she saw almost made her drop the frame at her feet. She inhaled sharply as she gazed at it.
“I stole it from Donna, forgive me?”
“Of course,” she answered without thinking and then whirled to locate the voice coming from behind her. For a moment she was sure she’d imagined it, but no. It was Jonathan, standing in the doorway.
“How…?? Brenna. She told you where I was?”
He crossed the room to her and gently took the photo of her and the children from her and situated it back on the mantle. “Yes, she was worried you were upset. “
“I wanted to come here, and she gave me the key. You’re not angry, are you?” she asked.
“No, of course not.”
“They said it wasn’t rented.”
“It’s never rented.”
“Never?”
“No, I keep it for when I need to get away,” he answered.
“You’re so busy. It must be nice to have such a wonderful place to recharge your batteries.” Lillie walked to the pack she’d left on the table and extracted her water bottle, more for something to do with her hands than to quench her thirst, but she took a drink anyway. “I’m sorry to have worried you, and to have taken you away from your work. I would have been fine.”
“I needed to head out and check some of the Northern cabins anyway. High season begins this week, and they will all be booked. Besides, I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t get caught in the dark.”
“I’m a big girl, Jonathan. I can take care of myself,” Lillie said before she stalked out of the door, not sure if she was angry, irritated or touched that he searched her out.
“I’ve no doubt you can,” he said to the empty room, “but it never hurts to check.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jonathan followed Lillie from the cabin and down the path to the lake. He expected her to walk down the dock and slide in her kayak, necessitating him hurrying to his canoe and following her for ten or twelve miles until she finally wore herself out and slowed enough for him to catch her. Instead, she surprised him by turning to face him.
“Are you heading out from here?” she asked him.
“Yes. I’ll be gone a few days. I need to check the far northern cabins.”
“You brought a canoe?”
“Yep, most of the interior lakes don’t allow motors. We’re one of the last pure ecosystems in North America.”
“I know, I would have thought a kayak would have been easier, that’s all. It’s hard work to paddle all that way alone.”
“Well, not as much room for gear in a kayak, and I’m used to it.”
“Ah,” She turned and knelt to untie her little yellow kayak.
“I was hoping to persuade you to come with me.”
“Oh, Jon, I don’t think that is a good idea. I need to get back to help get Molly settled. I feel extravagant having taken the day. I’m here to help.”
“Seamus and Mrs. O. have everything under control.”
Lillie’s hands were in the pockets of her windbreaker, and she looked down at her new hiking books and replied, “I just can’t, Jon.”
“Mom said you would protest, and when you did I was to give you this,” he pulled a folded note from his pocket and handed it to her.
Lillie took the single sheet of paper and read.
Lillian,
Go with Jon and have a good time. We’re well taken care of here and you need some R&R. That’s an order!
I’ll rest better knowing you are having some fun.
Love,
Mom
PS: Don’t worry, Jon did not pack your underwear.
Lillie laughed at the last line. Donna knew her so well. She had been certain Lillie would be worried about Jon packing her things. There were just some things she wasn’t ready for. Jon elbow deep in her underwear drawer was one of them.
As Lillie chuckled, it struck her that Donna had signed the note, “Mom.” Lillie had called Donna “mom” from the time she and Jonathan had been married, only reverting to Donna again, unconsciously after the divorce. They’d never said anything but obviously, Donna noticed.
“I don’t have any clothes,” she protested weakly.
“Red bag,” Jon pointed to the bag in the canoe tethered at her feet.
“I didn’t bring any gear.”
“I supplemented with stuff from the store and don’t worry, Donna packed—’’
“My underwear, I know.” She waved the note to indicate she’d already known that fact.
“Great. Then were all set.” Jonathan kneeled and reached into the boat, pulling up a small bright aqua bag. “I even brought you your own tent,” he said with a grin.
* * *
“Déjà vu,” Jonathan mumbled to himself and shook his head as if to clear his vision.
“What?” Lillie asked and looked over her shoulder.
“Nothing,” he replied, not realizing he had spoken aloud. He remembered another canoe trip long ago. He had practically begged Lillie to adopt, but she’d refused to listen. Now she had two children she’d adopted on her own, go figure.
He tried not to feel bitter, tried to put it behind him but even after all of this time. Lillie wasn’t the only one who was angry, he realized. He left her, granted, but he’d lost too; he’d suffered, as well. The thing he knew she did not understand was he’d done what he did, made the choices he’d made, for her. So she could be happy. And look. It’d worked. She had lovely children and what did he have?
The business, that was true. If he had to do it all over again, he wasn’t sure if he would make the same choices or take a different path. Back then, it had seemed he had only one choice, but now it seemed hazy, and he just didn’t know.
He liked his life here in Minnesota. He loved Oleson’s, and he realized he had a talent for running a business. He still worked with kids, just in a different, and he admitted to himself, a more rewarding way. He mentored them still, enjoyed them, but without the pressure of competition and the community.
He made a great living even though he poured ninety-five percent of his profits back into the business. He was able to provide the extras for his mother to make her life easier, reward his employees well and stockpile money for Molly’s future. Maybe even someday his sister would accept the help he offered and move home, instead of sta
ying in Hollywood.
If he sold the Internet and catalog portion of his business, or went public and offered stock to shareholders, he’d secure the future for them all, the O’Brien family included. He’d yet to make a final decision, but he’d listened to the banker and the advisors. It was nice to have options.
He would never have risked starting a business with just his 401K and an idea if he had still been married, that was for sure. Security was important to Lillie. As it was, he’d had nothing to lose.
His and Lillie’s paddles dipped in unison, their strokes still in perfect rhythm, even after all of this time. They paddled on for most of the day, stopping four or five times to open cabins, change out the fuel cylinders and stack firewood. Lillie pitched in over his protests, and they were done with each and moving on to the next quickly.
Sometimes they chatted, but more often than not, they enjoyed the sunshine and the silence. His mother had always told him when he was young, to find someone he could talk and laugh with, but now, the older and wiser he got, he realized what was most important for him was someone he could be silent with.
He and Lillie could always share so much, sometimes more even, without words. Usually the words got them into trouble, at least these days.
His brief anger of the morning dissipated, and he relaxed. The past was gone, and it was time to put it behind them and see what would happen.
Jonathan smiled and began to whistle. He felt good. Damn good, actually. He had Lillie in his boat and back in his life, even if it was just for a few days.
Coming Home Page 18