Cupid's Holiday Trilogy

by Geeta Kakade

  Jacob’s faith in her, the authority in his voice, was like a soothing liniment on the deep wound inside. She stared out at the water wishing it would wash away the wall between herself and her past.

  “I’ve been wanting to tell you about my past,” Jacob knew it was time to switch from the narrow gauge of her thoughts to the broad gauge of life in general. “I was crazy about this girl in medical school and when she died of an infection contracted from a patient, I never let myself feel for anyone what I had felt for her. I refused to talk about it with anyone either so very few people know about Rebecca. That was because what happened between us was so close to my heart I couldn’t talk to anyone about it till years later.”

  “Thank you for telling me Jacob.”

  “What I’m trying to say is you may not have told anyone about the pregnancy except the doctor and your commanding officer which is why no one knows what happened.”

  “Probably,” said Laurel. “I seem to have been a real riot act! Marrying on the spur of the moment, getting pregnant against military rules, miscarrying, wanting a quick divorce, being widowed suddenly and the worst part is I don’t feel or remember anything when you tell me all this.”

  “We do things for reasons we believe are important to us at the time. Brighton filed for divorce not you.”

  Laurel wasn’t worried about her first husband. Her mind was still on her miscarriage.

  “Is that why I have amnesia? I don’t want to remember losing the baby?”

  “No.” Jacob. “It’s due to the shooting incident with the Sergeant Major on base but your retrograde amnesia could also include other psychological trauma you may have experienced in the past. If you were very upset about losing the baby then yes it could be another memory your brain is blocking out.”

  He had his hand on her arm and he rubbed it gently as he said. “I understand how disturbing it was for you to find out about losing the baby the way you did. Your uncle says when he saw you on your next mid-tour leave, a year later, you told him the marriage had been a mistake and you were sorry Walter had been killed. You weren’t unduly upset about anything other than Walter’s death in the line of duty. He said if you had been torn up about the baby, he or your Aunt Grace would definitely have known. According to them you’ve always been open about your feelings. You’re not an introvert. Looking back now they feel you had accepted what had happened and you would only do that if it had been unavoidable. Miscarriages are just that.”

  Laurel kept silent taking in what Jacob was saying.

  “Don’t let what you can’t remember rob you of the present Laurel, please. You have to find the strength to put the past behind you and keep going. If you lose ground with this battle you won’t win your personal war and that’s what I want for you more than anything. There’s nothing wrong with drawing back from time to time and reevaluating your next move but each step you take has got to be one that keeps you gaining ground.”

  She was quiet for a long time and then she took a long breath. “You’re right. I have to get on with life, as I know it now. I cannot make everyone around me suffer for what happened to me.”

  Jacob wasn’t ready to dismiss the topic. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. You were only a few weeks along. Remember you may not have even known you were pregnant unless you had morning sickness or other symptoms.”

  She nodded and took a deep breath. “You’re right. I think I just have to wait till my memory returns to sort through all that stuff.”

  “That’s my girl.” She felt his mouth against her temple and then he turned away to set up the fishing lines.

  Laurel set up the camera equipment and clicked as if she was busy with her photos, hoping he didn’t see her hands were shaking.

  That’s my girl.

  Did Jacob mean that or was it just an expression?

  Though Laurel had said she didn’t feel a thing about incidents she couldn’t recall she had this big ache inside when she thought of the child she’d lost.

  When they got back that evening, Frank told her he’d gotten an A plus for his Science report and Holt had taken him out for ice cream to celebrate.

  With his usual intuition, Jacob got Laurel some soup and bread while she showered and she ate in the family room and went to bed.

  The next two days Jacob kept her so busy she didn’t have time to think. It was his usual prescription for her problems.

  They spent one day on the reservation and Laurel took her camera and after checking with Ama that it was all right if she took pictures of her and her house as Jacob worked at the clinic.

  Later she and Ama shared a cup of tea and the passion fruit cookies Mrs. Kemp had made. Christy’s mother had started alternating her gifts of clothes with boxes of fruit. This week it had been a huge box of passion fruit and Moira had used some for jam.

  Ama looked at her and said out of the blue, “Women are strong my child. We have this strength in us that we are not aware of till it rises to meet every problem we have to face. That’s how we’ve survived through the generations and we will continue to survive…not by seeking the strength in others but finding it in ourselves.”

  “Did Jacob tell you about the baby?” Laurel was startled.

  Ama shook her head. “I see the new shadows in your face and there is new pain in your eyes.”

  Laurel felt her mouth tremble. It was the usual precursor to her tears and she bit down hard on her lower lip.

  “You are a writer and I am a story teller,” Ama said briskly. “I think it is time to record our tales so they will not be lost. The younger generation does not wish to listen to stories or remember them but you have the desire to share our past and you will not misrepresent us in your stories. I have decided you are the one to write down all I know so it is never lost.”

  Ama’s tales drew vivid pictures of the past for Laurel and she forgot everything else till Jacob came for her. They heated the crab bisque Christy had sent and had it with Bridget’s newly baked bread while Jacob told them he had met his childhood friend Tim who was a tribal policeman now and they had lost count of the time as they’d talked. He’d asked Tim to keep a special lookout for Ama.

  “I can look after myself,” Ama insisted. “Tim really likes Sylvie but she has no eyes for anyone but that stupid Joe Crutch. There are none so blind as those that won’t see.”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows at the information but said nothing.

  A little while later a man with a cut in his arm knocked on the door to see Ama.

  Jacob and Laurel left, telling her they would be back soon.

  In the car Laurel said to Jacob, “I’ve been thinking of what you said about the teens in the reservation feeling trapped and thinking they have no future. What if we started classes for them, something like ROP classes that would give them an introduction to things they could turn into careers?”

  “What kind of classes?” asked Jacob. “There are programs in place now that don’t work for lack of attendance.”

  “Like photography and writing. Ama says Aunt Mary is a wonderful cook and she might teach a cooking class. I’m sure Bridget wouldn’t mind teaching a one day auto shop class. We could do two weeks at first and then see if the kids are interested enough to continue.”

  “These kids don’t feel the need to do anything much or they would avail of the Regional Occupational Program. Remember the pressure is not to be drawn into our world.”

  “ROP’s something they have to go to,” Laurel countered. “This would be something coming to them on the Reservation, in an informal setting, with no pressure of any kind. It could even be a one on one class for that matter. They don’t have to leave the Reservation. They could use their skills right here to earn money and improve their situation in life.”

  “I like the idea,” said Jacob, “but we have to get permission from the Council first. Some of the people on it are against anything like that. I will ask Ama to put out feelers.”

  “Barbara, the health nurse told m
e they have begun to respect what you do. If you spearhead the program they would be more open to it. I don’t mind riding piggy back on your shoulders if it will help to get the program going.”

  Jacob was so thankful that Laurel was showing interested in something other than the loss of her baby that he would have agreed if she’d decided to give lessons on astronomy.

  Ama was right. Laurel had a strong spirit.

  It was one of the things he admired most about her…the ability to snap out of her problems and get on with what was at hand. As a psychiatrist he knew that trait made all the difference between success and failure in life.

  On the way back Jacob and Laurel stopped at a store that sold photographic equipment so she could pick up the special lens she had ordered and then they had dinner before they went home.

  Laurel spent an hour before she went to bed writing down all the stories Ama had told her. The next time she would take her iPad and record the stories. There was nothing like hearing tales in the teller’s voice to make them come alive.

  The next day Jacob told her they were going to spend on Lake Tahoe. He took her to Emerald Bay State Park and they spent a couple of hours riding with a friend of Mark’s who showed them wonderful views of Emerald Bay from the trail he took them on. Laurel had learned to ride as a kid. Jacob had learned on the Reservation. Then they explored Vikingsholm a wonderful Scandinavian home built by Leonard Palme. The 38 rooms were like a palace.

  After that Jacob took her out on a boat a friend lent him for the rest of the day.

  Moira and Mrs. Kemp had packed a picnic basket and as they ate, Laurel said, “I don’t know what I can do for the Kemps and Moira. They just go out of their way to be nice to me.”

  “We’ll think of something for the Kemps. You’ve already helped Moira with the idea for the business,” Jacob reminded her. “We are also trying to help Holt spend more time with Moira.”

  Laurel got busy with her camera and Jacob sat down on a deck chair with a magazine.

  He fell asleep and Laurel took advantage of the moment and took some pictures of him. When she put her camera down she stared at his face. The urge to trace her finger over his features was compelling. She wanted to outline his mouth and then press her lips against it and wake him up with a kiss.

  Laurel jumped up and turned her attention to Emerald Bay and Eagle Falls instead.

  Keep your mind on the job at hand, soldier.

  She was done with impulsive affairs whether she could remember what had happened with Walt or not. Jacob had a brilliant career in front of him; one that did not include being tied to a basket case in any way.

  That night she told herself she had to get back on track as far as her search for a new normal was possible. She would spend more time with Christy and the rest of the women, even start learning how to cook just to make it clear to Jacob that he wasn’t her babysitter. She was making a calendar for Toby with all the best fruits, flowers and vegetables from his greenhouse, one for Moira of her jams and jellies and one of the Kemps doing their favorite things that they could give to their children.

  That ought to keep her really busy.

  Uncle Paul and Aunt Grace had both called and told her they hadn’t known about the baby. Aunt Grace had echoed what Carol had told her in July. She said Laurel and Walter had surprised everyone. A tempestuous affair had been followed by an impetuous marriage and then had come the fireworks. It’s a good thing they had separate deployments within a week of being married, Aunt Grace said because that saved them from each other.

  Laurel reassured both the people who cared for her so much that though finding out about the miscarriage had been a shock at first, she’d put it in perspective now. She owed them that.

  The next morning Bridget was over right after breakfast. Andrew was with her and that surprised everyone. From the look on their faces they could see something was up. Everybody gathered around the table in the kitchen as Toby came in with his morning report.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Bridget had tears in her eyes.

  “You’re pregnant?” Mrs. Kemp asked hopefully while twin looks of anticipation lit Toby and Mr. Kemp’s eyes.

  “No.” Bridget handed Christy a letter and sat down beside Andrew.

  “I didn’t pick up the mail till late last night and then I got this.”

  “It has an Australian postmark,” Mark took the envelope from Christy as she slipped the single sheet of paper out.

  “Read it, please,” Bridget urged and the quaver in her voice had Andrew putting his hand around her shoulders.

  “My dearest Bridget,

  I don’t quite know how to say this but I’m your father.

  Christy stopped, looked at Bridget in stunned disbelief and then went on.

  In my defense I knew nothing about your existence till we found a letter from your mother this year hidden between the two layers of the cover of her journal.

  It has been there since she passed away seventeen years ago.

  I was told you had died at birth. Your mother was seriously unwell at the time and at eighteen I was a waster who spent all my time gambling and drinking. She didn’t know what the future held for us. Wanting you to be safe and well cared for, she left you with the nuns at the Orphanage of St. Mary’s with a note that had your name on it and a ring that belonged to my family.

  We went to Australia and she meant to return for you once we had settled but she died before she could do that.

  I hired a local detective to make enquiries and he told me you are in the Silver Lake area now and newly married.

  If you can forgive me and for the sake of your mother allow me to meet you, I would consider that a gift from you. I make no excuses for the kind of man I was but your mother was a wonderful human being. Her belief in me created a desire in me to work hard and prove her right after we got to Australia.

  You have a younger sister Emma who wishes to travel with me to California to meet you. Say the word and we will be on the next plane.

  Your father,

  Brian Cupid.

  Silver Lake Farm

  108 Cupid Lane

  Mareeba, Queensland Australia

  Christy’s face was wet with tears as she looked at Bridget.

  “I can hardly believe it,” she said. “This is amazing.”

  Bridget nodded.

  “How do you feel about it?” asked Mark.

  Bridget couldn’t answer. She and Christy had their arms around each other and were crying.

  “After she read the letter she said ‘I don’t believe it’ twenty times as she cried. Then she called Australia and spoke to her father, Emma and much later Brian’s wife Alex,” Andrew sounded very moved himself. “I talked with them too and told them they could come tomorrow as far as Bridget and I are concerned.”

  “Way to go,” Mr. Kemp looked approving.

  “The past’s the past,” Toby contributed. “Bury it and be done with it. You’ve all got to make up for a lot of lost time.”

  “That man making enquiries in town about Bridget was working for them then,” Jacob said.

  They all looked at the women. There wasn’t a dry eye around the table.

  “They’ll be here the Sunday before Halloween,” Andrew announced.

  “They can stay here if you want,” Mark offered.

  “You’re full,” Andrew looked at his wife, “and I doubt Bridget will want to let them out of her sight. We’re going to get a couple of beds.”

  “We have all the extra linen you’ll need,” Mrs. Kemp told him, “and plenty of extra pillows and blankets too.”

  “Yes and anything else you need. You can have all your meals here too or we’ll send the food over so you’re not in the kitchen,” Christy let go of Bridget and took a tissue from the box Mark held out to her.

  “When they’re here I’ll bake something fresh for them every day,” said Moira.

  Bridget nodded, ”Thanks. I’m sure Pops will like to visit his childho
od home so we’ll be here a great deal of the time too.”

  “Pops?” Toby looked surprised.

  “Emma calls him that,” said Bridget, “and she wants me to call him that too. She said Mom liked the name because it sounded American versus the Australian Dad. He and Alex have four other children. I can’t believe I have a sister, two half brothers and two half sisters.”

  “Alex said they would all come but the kids are in school,” said Andrew. “They can’t wait to meet Bridget. They might join us for Christmas. She sounds really nice.”

  Bridget sat down, smiled at him and said, “Emma would not stop talking. She says they have their own winery in Queensland and sell their wines under the label LB wines. They grow fruit and make fruit and port wines. Emma mentioned, mangoes, bananas, sugarcane, lychees, sapote, pomelos, avocado, jackfruit, dragon fruit and some others I can't remember. I don’t even know what some of those fruits look like. I’ll look them up on Google Images.”

  “LB wines. Lucinda and Brian. That’s nice,” Christy smiled.

  “She says Alex has her own orchard next door. Emma kept wandering over there after Mama passed away and spending time with Alex who brought her back one day and met Pops. When they got married they decided Pops would concentrate on growing the best fruit and Alex would focus on the wine making and business end. She’s got a great palate and does all the tasting and coming up with ideas for new varieties.”

  “I could learn something about growing exotic fruit from them,” Toby looked thoughtful. “Mangoes would be great to grow in the greenhouse.”