If We Make It Home

by Christina Suzann Nelson

  I think of the way my father never really came back into my life. That scar still marks me. “I think your son needs to know you’re willing to try. If nothing else, you wanted him.”

  Ireland looks to the side, her hand wiping across her face. “Maybe.”

  An engine growls from somewhere ahead of us.

  Vicky clasps my hand.

  As the pickup rounds the corner, Vicky and I wave our hands over our heads. But it drives past.

  Chapter 28

  IRELAND

  The truck skids to a stop, backs up, and drives toward us. I can hardly breath as the possibilities wash over me.

  A man wearing flannel and a baseball cap hops from the driver’s side. “You folks seen any cows wandering this way?” As he comes closer, he pulls the cap from his head and scratches his scalp. “My goodness, you all look like you’ve had a rough time. You ain’t the missing ladies are you?”

  Jenna wraps her arms around my waist squeezing me tight. My tongue, drier than my most dehydrated moments, can’t form words.

  “We are.” Vicky covers her heart with both hands, her eyes shining.

  “Well, there. Let’s get you into town. There’s quite a crew out looking for you.” He guides us back to the truck where he opens the passenger door. He whistles and an Australian shepherd bounds down from the seat. “You get on in. I’ll take you right to Dr. Martin. The sheriff will find you there.” The tailgate whines open, and the dog jumps into the back.

  Vicky wraps her hand around mine. “We’re not leaving you,” she says.

  My face warms. The instinct to pull my hand away is strong, but I’m going to fight this time. I’m going to hold on to the people I love even if it ends with me getting hurt. Because it hurts when I walk away too. And the pain doesn’t go away. In my life, it’s about the only company I’ve maintained. I lay my other hand over our clasped ones and rest my head on Vicky’s shoulder. It’s boney but comfortable all the same.

  The man climbs back in the cab. He starts down the road in the direction he came from. “There’s a lot of people who’ll be glad to see you.”

  I wonder, will there be anyone to welcome me back to civilization? Not likely. My colleagues find me cold, because I am. My neighbors think I’m weird. I know this is true because I keep my bedroom window cracked open year round. I’ve heard them talking. And maybe that’s how I’ve presented myself on purpose. The oddity seems to keep people away.

  I’ve lived most of my life like I’ve been waiting for it all to end. If the mountain didn’t kill me, I may just be here for a while yet. Maybe it’s time to make a home for myself.

  The truck pulls into a circular driveway of what looks like a large house. In the front is a sign, Pioneer Mountain Hospital.

  “Sit tight. I’ll go in and get Jacob.” The man leaves the truck running and heads inside the extra-wide French doors.

  A moment later, a man and woman rush from the door, each with a wheelchair. The man who picked us up follows behind with another wheelchair.

  Both truck doors open. “Aren’t we glad to see you. Johansen says you’re the missing group. News came through this morning about your guide.” He runs us through a battery of questions about our injuries as we get seated in the chairs and pushed into the hospital. Jenna and Vicky are taken into one room, and I’m delivered into another. Alone.

  The nurse takes my information after helping me into a bed. Her hands never stop moving.

  There’s an empty bed on the other side of the room. She pulls a gown from a dresser by the door. “I’m going to help you get out of these dirty clothes, then we’ll have you wear the gown. Dr. Martin will want to give you a full exam before we get you cleaned up. Is there anywhere I should be particularly careful?”

  My foot has throbbed in rhythm with my heart since we woke up this morning. Now that our journey has come to an end, the pain seems unbearable. I blow a breath out and tap my fingers on the oversize rubber boot.

  “All right, then.” She tries to gently remove the boot, but my foot has swollen inside. “I think we’ll go ahead and cut this off if that’s okay with you.”

  “No problem. They’re not even mine.” I probably shouldn’t be confessing to burglary right now. One thing at a time.

  With blunt ended scissors, she works the rubber until there’s an opening along the outside of my leg.

  I wince as she removes what’s left of the boot. Blood stains the t-shirt wrapped around my foot. I lay my head back. I don’t want to see what happens next.

  Apparently it’s as bad as I imagined. “I think we’ll have Dr. Martin take a look at this right away. He may be able to give you something for the pain before we go any further.”

  I nod. That’s exactly what I need. Something for the pain.

  JENNA

  “I’m a few hours out, but I’m on my way.” Mark’s voice trembles in my ear.

  I hold the telephone closer.

  “I’m so grateful you’re alive. I love you, Jenna.”

  Tear rush over my cheeks. I’m losing fluid as fast as the IV in my arm pumps it in. “I love you too. I’m really sorry.”

  “None of that.” The connection gets scratchy. “We’re headed through the pass, I’m going to have to say goodbye before I lose—”

  “Mark? Mark?” It’s like waking from a beautiful dream and finding yourself alone in the hospital. I hold the phone to my chest, against my heart.

  “What happened?” Vicky’s face is slathered in some kind of pink ointment that makes her look like she’s doing facials at a slumber party.

  “We lost the connection. He’s on the way.”

  She smiles, but her eyes are sad.

  “Any word from Daniel?”

  “No. Not yet. He didn’t answer my calls. Neither did the kids.”

  Guilt takes over. I don’t have any words to encourage her. Nothing to give her hope that her husband, who I know she still loves, will walk through those doors and all will be right again. Because that may not be Vicky’s happily ever after.

  I look up as a man in uniform knocks on the door frame. He pulls a notebook from his breast pocket. “I’m Sheriff Collins. I’m going to need a few questions answered. The doctor said you’d be up to that.”

  My jaw drops. We may not have seen the end of our troubles.

  VICKY

  I just want to sleep. The sheriff asked a hundred questions. Then he asked the same questions in other ways. Did they really think we had some kind of nefarious motives? Did they think we wanted to die? When Jenna explained about the cows, the look on the man’s face went from bored to irritated.

  I turn toward the wall, pull the blankets over my shoulders and close my eyes. After the sheriff left, Jenna brushed her hair and teeth. She showered for twenty minutes. All she can talk about is Mark getting here. And my biggest dread is Mark getting here.

  Maybe I can pretend to sleep through his visit. Maybe I can manage to never see him, and to never remember how he used to be my boyfriend. And how I rejected him. And how he’s happily married to a woman I love as a sister.

  It’s not that Mark is so special, at least not to me. It’s the happily married to someone who loves you thing. I want to figure a way to take back the last ten years of super-independence and revive what Daniel and I had. But I don’t know if he even wants to work on our marriage, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive him.

  Heavy footsteps enter the room. I pull the blanket higher, over my ears. I just can’t watch their reunion.

  A hand warms my shoulder. The gentle feel of a finger pulls back the hair at my temple. I know this touch, but I can’t open my eyes. Tears squeeze through my closed lids and a whimper creeps up my throat. I grip his hand, holding it tight, praying that Daniel and Cori were some kind of horrible nightmare my imagination created.

  He gently rolls me onto my back, but I keep my head turned away, until his rough fingers press against my crusty cheek, forcing me toward him. “Vicky, look at me, please.”
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br />   My lower lip quivers. This moment is worse than any I faced on the mountain. Deep within me I know he is a part of me, and I am a part of him. I’ll never be whole without him. But I can’t live with his heart divided between me and her. “I can’t.”

  As much as I long to fall into his arms, I can’t make the journey.

  “No more avoiding. We’ve got things we need to talk about. The kids will be here soon.”

  It’s a punch to the gut. A final kind of statement. And I can’t go there. I’ll never be ready for what I know he’s about to say.

  “Vicky, we need to talk about Cori.”

  I cover my face with my hand. “I can’t.”

  “I’m sorry. We have to. Jenna went to sit with Ireland. We have the room to ourselves.”

  “I don’t want to be alone.” My eyes snap open. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I don’t want any of this.”

  “I fired her.”

  I blink. Did the doctor drug me? That wasn’t what I expected to hear.

  “She was coming on to me.” He throws up a hand. “No, that’s not fair. I gave her every indication I was interested.” He sits on the edge of the bed facing away from me, his elbows on his thighs, his hands clutching his gray-brown hair. “I really messed up here. Things between us are not good. I know you think everything is under control, but I feel like an actor in a movie you’re directing. What happened to us? I was so scared when I thought you might not be coming home. How do I get you back?”

  For days I’ve been asking myself this same question. How do I get Daniel back? Now he’s asking me? “I guess this is a start. We’ve got to be honest. I read your email to Cori. That’s what motivated me to go on this crazy survival trip. I wanted to manipulate you into loving me again. Sick, isn’t it?”

  His shoulders jump, and I’m not sure if he’s crying or laughing. Clasping his hands, he looks up at the ceiling. “What are we doing to each other? You could have died out there. I could have been the cause. A woman gave me a little attention, and I jumped right in. I can’t stand who I’ve become.”

  “I can understand that. There was a lot of time to think out there. No distractions. I am not proud of my half of our relationship either.”

  “It doesn’t change anything, I know, but I promise, I never touched her.”

  I thought those words would bring me joy, but they don’t. There’s still a betrayal sitting between us. And I can choose to be bitter and walk away, like what happened with me, Jenna, Ireland, and Hope, or I can choose to walk through the muck with Daniel until we find solid ground.

  I take his hand. “You’re right. It still hurts. And I’m sorry for the ways I’ve hurt you.”

  He turns to me, scooping my head into his hand and pulling me into his chest. The beat of his heart drums against my ear as his tears run over my cheek and down my neck.

  “Mom?”

  I peek over Daniel’s shoulder. My children stand in the doorway. “Come here,” I say.

  Brooklyn sits behind her father, using him as a wall between us. I recognize the move. It’s something I would do. I want her to come all the way to me, to hug me, to let me smell the freshness of her hair and hold her close, but that’s not the relationship we have.

  Cameron walks to the head of my bed. “Glad you’re okay, Mom. That’s quite a trip. What are you going to say when the press gets here?”

  “They can wait. I’m not giving interviews.”

  “Because of your hair?” Brooklyn sneers.

  “No, because I want to spend time with the three of you.” But I can’t help it, I touch my hair.

  Chapter 29

  JENNA

  They’ve given Ireland something to help her sleep, but she’s still restless, her face grimacing as she cries through some awful dream where I can’t help her.

  Daniel and the kids are still in our room. I don’t want to disturb them. There’s a lot of healing that family needs. But I’m so tired my eyes won’t stay open. I brush back Ireland’s curls, saying a soft prayer. The thought of her going home to an empty house cuts me deep in a way I thought I could only feel for my children.

  I’ve dwelt on the rejections in my life, but they’re nothing compared to what my friend has suffered.

  Dr. Martin comes into the room. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

  “Vicky has visitors, and I wanted to see how Ireland was doing. Is she going to be okay?”

  “I’m not allowed to discuss her condition with you. But, she did refer to you and Mrs. Cambridge as her sisters right after we gave her the sedative. No details, but I think she’ll be fine. There’s a toe we’re keeping a close eye on, and we’re dealing with infection, but this could have been so much worse.” He stuffs his glasses into his front pocket. “You know that already. I heard about your guide. Sounds like you’re three brave women.”

  “Not so much. But we’re blessed.”

  He nods but doesn’t make eye contact, then he leaves the room. Machines fill the space with hums and clicks so loud, I can hardly stand it. For the first time in my life, I desire silence. Peace in which to sort through the things that have happened to my body and to my soul.

  A tear leaks from Ireland’s eye, trailing down her cheek and spilling over her chin. Pulling back the covers, I climb in beside her, weaving my arm around her. Shallow breaths turn deeper. Her chest relaxes. I’ll stay here as long as it takes for Ireland to feel the love we have for her. Even if that’s forever.

  I’m startled awake by a man standing at the edge of the bed. He’s familiar, yet completely a stranger. Scruff colors his jawline. His forehead is tense, forming a river of lines. His mouth is tight and turned down.

  “Can I help you?” I push myself up, tucking the blankets snug around Ireland’s arms.

  “No. I just wanted to see her.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “I should go.”

  As he turns I’m overwhelmed by the feeling that I shouldn’t let this stranger leave. “Stop. Please.”

  He does, his right hand braced on the doorframe, his face turned away from me.

  “Do you know Ireland?”

  “I used to. But that was a long time ago. A different life.”

  “I can understand that. Please stay. It would mean so much to her to have a visitor.” I stand, wanting to grab his arm to stop him from taking another step.

  “She wouldn’t want to see me.”

  Realization thunders down on me. “Skye?” My question is quiet, hesitant, but the shudder spreading across his shoulders tells me I’m right.

  “Is she going to be okay?”

  “Yes.”

  His chin dips, then he squeezes the trim around the door. “Thank you.” Without another word, he’s gone.

  I wrap my arms around myself. How will I tell Ireland he was here? How will I tell her he left? Turning back to my friend, I see how foolish my questions were. She’s staring past me to the place in the hall where he walked out of sight.

  I take her hand and sit there in the relative silence, letting the moment sink in.

  VICKY

  My family has gone, and with them went the last of the illusion of our perfect family. I saw the gaps and scars, the wounds and loneliness etched into each of them, into me. I start to make a list in my mind, the most effective actions to fix this problem, but I have nothing.

  Facing my own death has left me vulnerable rather than empowered. It’s left me with no doubt that I am insufficient. It’s a fascinating place to be for a woman who’s touted God’s all-powerful nature to the masses. And a woman who’s never surrendered even her grocery list to him.

  The room is too empty with Jenna off somewhere and my family gone. Just me. I used to value time alone. Time for productivity and uninterrupted work. But today the stillness makes the pounding in my head louder. I’m afraid. Purely scared of what comes next. And I don’t want to face it alone.

  Slipping my feet into disposable slippers, I take hold of my IV stand and start down
the hall to Ireland’s room, hoping to find Jenna and Ireland together.

  Ireland lies still in her bed as if she isn’t really there anymore. Is it possible to come this far only to die in a hospital?

  “Hey, there.” Jenna joins me in the hall. “Ireland just drifted off again. Skye was here. It really shook her up.”

  I put my hand to my chest. “I’m sure it did. What did he say?”

  “That’s the thing. He didn’t say anything. Just took a look at her and left.” Jenna scratches at her temple where the edge of a bandage is peeling free.

  There’s a squeal, and we both swing around to see its origin. A young woman with long, flowing hair runs down the hall toward us. She halts inches from Jenna, then wraps her arms around my friend. “Mama. Are you okay?”

  Jenna gently scoops strands of hair over the girl’s ear. “I’m great. Nothing that won’t heal in a couple weeks.”

  Jenna’s other daughter arrives. They’re all a tangle of arms grasping their mother and her taking stock of each one, a mother hen checking her chicks.

  Then there’s the last of them. Mark. A man who at our last meeting was my recent ex-boyfriend. He doesn’t seem to even notice me, his eyes trained on the pile of people beside me. “All right. Let me in there.” His voice is firm but his mouth tips up in a playful grin.

  The girls loosen their hold, but don’t let go.

  “Baby, I’m so glad to see your beautiful face.” Mark holds Jenna’s jaw with his forefinger and thumb, tipping her head up and staring down into her eyes. “Calvin couldn’t get loose, but they got word to him this morning that you’d been found safe.” He just looks at her for the longest time, then leans in, fully kissing her on the lips.

  “Gross.” One of the girls shakes her head, but she has an almost identical smile to her father’s, and it plays on her lips in contradiction to her words.

  Here’s a family that may not have had all the benefits a million-dollar ministry can afford, but they’re not lacking in the one thing my family is missing, connection.

  Watching them is both fascinating and heartbreaking. Maybe this is one of the reasons I stayed away. I think I’ve known what I couldn’t provide for a very long time, I just didn’t want to see it. Without saying anything, I duck into Ireland’s room. I can hide here.