“Do you really think I’m thinking about the savings account right now? I tried to call you a thousand times.”
“I couldn’t make you and Regan go through what I went through with my father, Anna. I went to the East Coast for the job, and went to an amazing specialty clinic.”
“What kind of cancer?”
“Prostate.”
She collapsed onto the sofa next to where her daughter lay sleeping.
“Prostate. That’s highly treatable.” And explained so much.
“It was. I’m done. They got it all. We—uh. We caught it really early and it wasn’t that big of a deal.”
She stared at the phone. Some part of her wanted to scream into it. But the numbness won out and all she could do was look at the screen. She reached out and gently caressed her daughter’s hair, smoothing it back from her angelic face as she dozed.
Finally, she put the phone back up to her mouth. “Now what?”
“I—uh. I sold off one of our investment portfolios. I sold the one Mustang—the ‘67— and some of the things I’d had stored in Mom’s attic since before the wedding.” He breathed heavily into the phone. “I had the bank deposit it all into your checking account. You’d—uh. The accounts were all closed.”
“Yes. I thought someone had stolen our I.D.”
“Yeah. The hospital filled me in when I called to pay,” he said. “I had to sweet talk the gal at the bank into writing in your account number just to make a deposit.
She rolled her eyes. She’d have to transfer to a new bank.
“The hospital. Your work. Was there anybody on the planet who didn’t have a better idea what was going on with you than I did?”
“Anna, I don’t want to fight.”
“You never wanted to fight. Or talk. Or touch."
“I just don’t have it in me,” he said. “I’m happy at the office. I’m happy traveling and maybe even dating. I’m not cut out for the life I was living, and the cancer, well, it brought it all to the forefront. The routine. It was killing me.”
She ran her hand across her forehead. “So you just went off to Brazil and suddenly decided never to come home? Just like that?”
He breathed through his mouth into the phone again. “Do you remember that night in South Carolina when we last talked?”
“Mm. Hm.”
“I’d gone out to listen to some music and stumbled across this great acoustic set. So I hung in there for a while, and decided to grab a bite to eat before heading up to the room. And there was this guy sitting all alone in the dark with a burger and a bottle of water in front of him at the bar. So I sat down. There was this song in the background playing about living like you’re dying or something. So the guy, he tells me to pay attention to that song. He said if your life has become something you hate, cut it loose. And he said if you find something that fills you up inside, grab it and never let it go. Then he just got up and left. It was like divine intervention.
“So I sat there listening to the rest of that song and that’s when it all fell in on me. The cancer. The marriage. Regan.”
“Regan?”
“She’s exhausting, Anna. I don’t want to make mac and cheese or kick the soccer ball in the yard. If I see another Caillou doll, I think I’ll crack. I’m not cut out for little kids. I’m good at keeping the bank account full for you. I—”
She hung up. She simply touched the button and hung up, wishing for the good old days of yore when a person could slam the phone back into its cradle.
One thing she knew for sure—when she’d checked the bank account that morning there was far more in it than could have come from any investment portfolio and a china collection. She could buy a bit of land, design and build a house from the ground up if she wanted. Or stay put, pay off the mortgage right where they were and not uproot Regan.
Drug running was rampant in Brazil, wasn’t it? Her brain searched for solutions that would never come.
The second thing she knew was that even though Michael had been able to wheedle some stupid bank teller into that deposit, he wouldn’t be able to withdraw. His name hadn’t been added to the new account. It was hers unless he got a lawyer and came after her. Would he?
The little girl whimpered in her sleep and sat up almost immediately screaming.
Anna scooped her up and put her in her lap, cradling her head against her chest and rocked. “Shh. Shh. It’s okay, honey bug.”
“Mommy!” The sobs went on for ten minutes and then subsided. The episode was quicker than usual, this time.
“You’re safe. Nothing can hurt you.”
“You’d kill all the monsters?”
“Yes I would.”
“I didn’t dream about Daddy. Just the man with the blue shirt. So it wasn’t too bad.”
“Was the man scary?”
She shook her head. “No. Just the monsters are scary. They’re mean to me.”
She could do this, couldn’t she? She could figure this out.
“The man with the blue shirt is going to help us. He’s the man Daddy talked to.”
“He is, huh? What does this mystery man look like?”
“He’s the cutest person I ever ever saw.”
“Let’s say our prayers and get you to bed.”
Regan put her tiny fingers in place and whispered, “Thank you God and Jesus and angels for Mommy, Daddy, Gramma, Grampa, Auntie Jess and Heidi. And for popcorn! Amen.”
•
“How’s Germany?” she asked him. After a couple days without her, the sound of her voice felt like a blessing.
“We left Germany early yesterday. I’m in Portugal right now,” he said. “God only knows why. We never sell out here.” He looked around his hotel room, and from the interior it could have very well been in Boise. Everything looked very American to him, and that reminded him of Anna. He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked his boots off across the flat, commercial carpet.
“It’s hard to keep up with you.”
“I just get on a bus or a plane and go where they point me. It’s uh—sometime in the middle of the night here. Or really early in the morning. We get to sleep in till at least noon, thank God.”
“John?”
“Yeah?”
“I was served with divorce papers today. He doesn’t want anything. He just doesn’t want me and Regan. He signed over custody entirely.”
Part of him wanted to provide the requisite condolences but he couldn’t bring himself to that level of insincerity. He ran his hand along the back of his neck and fought the urge to jump up and down.
“You still there?” she asked.
“Yes. Yeah.”
“He—uh. He pretty much gave me everything and just walked away. All I have to do is sign the papers and hand them in to the lawyer to have them filed. That’s it.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“There isn’t anything to say sometimes.”
“Are you okay?” he asked. He ran his hand frantically back and forth through his hair, over his beard …
He flipped back the heavy curtain for a second to verify the sky outside was still black. There wasn’t a clock anywhere in the room. He paced. Frantically.
“Are you?” she asked.
He laughed. “I’m really caught of guard, and frankly, I’m bouncing off the walls.”
He knew he was talking a million miles an hour. His mind raced between panic and excitement. The room was musty. Shut-up and moldy even.
“Sign the frickin’ papers, Anna. Sign ‘em.”
“I already did,” she said. “They’re sitting on the kitchen counter staring at me. And it’s made me numb. And weary. Have you ever just felt plain old weary all the way into you?”
“I’ve spent half my life feeling that way. But not now.”
She sighed into the phone and he felt his body react to the sound. He wanted her. Just that quickly, the desire came back and all semblance of panic fled.
“I know I’ll feel someth
ing in a day or a week. The pain will come. I’ve never been through this before and I don’t know what it takes to heal,” she said.
“It takes as long as it takes, Anna. There’s no right answer here, you know? It’s hard even when you’re ready to end a relationship, but when it goes south like this. So sudden. The betrayal of a trust.” He looked for some combination of beautiful words that would put her at ease—nothing came. “It’s harder maybe. Then.”
“I don’t know what to do right now. Move? Stay? Put the house up for sale? What do people do?” she asked.
“I always tell people I need to make a change,” he said. “Then I move to an entirely different state. I’m technically homeless at the moment. Did I tell you that?”
“No.”
“My last house is finally selling. I took a loss. I’m not sure where to go after this tour. Sun and sand. Foliage. Mountains. Greenery. America is wide open to me come next summer.”
“Do you need to be in the center of it all?”
“No. Nor do I want to be. I’m a homebody. I want to curl up and relax. Be a hermit if I can. When all you’ve seen are crowds and people and more people, you kind of don’t want to be in the middle of them anymore, having them pull at you during your down time.”
“You’re perfectly happy with your own good company,” she affirmed. “That sounds like a man on the right track.”
He ran his hand through his dark hair again, manic. “I could fly you here?”
“I wouldn’t come,” she said. “I have to create some stability for Regan. I’m not sure how much she understands. Does a three-year-old—intimidate you?”
“No.” He laughed. “If I had a chance to do better than I did with my own son, I’d take it.”
“I wondered,” she said.
“Would a vacation be in order? I could take you both to Disneyland?”
“I’m not sure now is the right time for her to meet you. I’ve thought of a vacation, though. Look, Regan just woke up crying. I have to run.”
He was left staring at the dead phone in his hand, wondering what the hell had just happened. He supposed the grief process would take time, and as far as he knew, he had plenty of it ahead.
NINE.
December
Somewhere in the middle of the holidays just as glowing Christmas lights and trees appeared in the night, Anna became a single woman again—a single mother, to be precise—but one with a bank account so large that many of the fears and insecurities that usually came with the title, simply weren’t there.
Michael had faded away into the throngs of people that made up Manhattan, the last time she heard. Money continued to appear in the bank account for a while, and then all but the child support payments stopped. He didn’t Skype, didn’t text—and after a while, Regan forgot to ask about him from time to time, until she finally stopped nearly altogether.
Anna took a few at-home perfume analysis contracts here and there, and laughed with John for hours on the phone, just as they’d always done.
“I’ve never in my life been able to talk to a woman this way,” he said one evening.
“Do you think it will last?”
“That’s up to you,” he said, his voice breathy on top of the brogue. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She was in awe just a little when he and Leaven appeared on Metal Mania.
John’s tour had come to a wrap after Thanksgiving, and he was stateside again when December rolled around.
“I’m coming to Boise,” he said over the phone at last. “I’ll pay for a baby sitter any night you want, but we’re going to date, Anna Anderson, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”
“Things may be clear from my side, but what about yours?” she countered. “You’re on an endless tour. Every year. How does that work for me? For Regan? You live the life of a rock star. I just don’t see sometimes—”
She looked out across the backyard down the street to the snowflakes flittering across a lamppost. The neighbor’s fairy lights were up again this year, a soft golden-white glow against the fence.
“I’ll make it work for you to come with me, or I’ll change it. I don’t know how, but I will. I swear I will. This isn’t some sort of fling. We both know it. This isn’t just an intense attraction. When it’s love, it’s love. People know it and there’s no denying what this is. People move mountains to be together when they’re in love, because true love is a one in a million proposition. God gives no greater gift to anyone on this earth. And if this feeling comes over someone and they try to deny it, they’re either flipping stupid or lying their asses off.”
“You’re saying in your oh-so delicately worded way that you love me?” she whispered.
“I’m saying I’ve been in love with you for months,” he whispered back.
Somewhere deep within her, her spirit soared. She believed him all the way down in her, and knew with unfailing certainty that the future had just unfolded in front of her. “I love you, too.”
And when she hung up the phone, she sat on the floor with her hand over her heart for minutes, letting the words absorb.
She texted John directions to her house after Jess took Regan away for the afternoon, and then waited by the door, paced the hall. She’d talked with him for months and shared the secrets to her soul, but somehow now, everything that had started as a blessed dream was real.
The low rumble of his rental car’s engine vibrated through the snow. The crunch of ice beneath his boots came to her ears. She would remember these sounds for the rest of her life, remember the details of every moment with John Leaven.
When he walked around the corner, the smile on his face reached up into his eyes and set them to life. His chocolate brown hair fell down across his forehead as he set down a wrapped present, done in golds and reds, onto the cabinet just inside the hall.
He had crimson through one strand of hair again, and he tucked it behind his ear.
As she held the door open wider for him, he stepped a few more feet inside and caught her in his arms.
She sank against his chest, inhaling the smell of him so long gone without. “This is the start of something big, isn’t it?” she said.
“It’s the start of everything,” he said.
He folded his coat over a kitchen chair while she watched him. His presence filled the house. He wore faded jeans and white cable knit sweater. His beard was gone, with a day or two of stubble taking its place.
“You look younger,” she said.
“I feel alive for the first time in years. Truly alive and healthy all the way through.”
He sat down on the sofa and she slid easily onto the leather beside him.
“Do you need more time, Anna?” he said. “I don’t know what the healing process looks like for you. Weeks? Months?”
The feel of his big hand sliding down her arm set fire to her. His fingers twined with hers.
“I think I mourned at least in part while I was still in the relationship. But now—I just want a new start.” She paused for what seemed forever as she looked at him. “I can’t believe you’re really here.”
The universe also paused and took a breath. Time stopped as his brown eyes locked with hers. They had flecks of black and gold in them when she looked up close.
“You took the little ring out.” Her fingertip brushed across his lip.
He nodded as he closed the space between them.
They made love slowly that afternoon as twilight fell. With an intimacy unrivaled in all their lives, they came together and forged a bond they both felt instantly, completely. And when he moved inside her for that first time, she was lost.
“Are you really mine?” she whispered against his cheek.
“I’m yours. Just yours.”
United they moved in a rhythm that would bind them in ways they’d never imagined, and when they lay together, still and sated, he said to her, “Destiny is real, Anna Anderson. We’re proof of it.”
She was real just then, o
nly in the places where he touched her. The rest of her body had slipped into some other realm, awaiting his hand, his mouth, to bring it back into existence.
He carried her to the edge and pushed her over it another time, and then again with only his tongue before they showered and dressed. And even then, the lightest touch of his hand was electric and she wanted him again.
She’d already grown used to the texture of his skin beneath her hand and the way the smell of him imprinted in her mind. The tones of his voice had become etched in memory long ago, but now the sweet curl of his lip and the expression in his eyes went along with each inflection.
He rested his hand on her flat stomach, and she could feel the callouses from years of guitar playing scratch gently at her softness as he talked about the last tour, asked more about her childhood, stared at her in adoring silence.
They ate dinner early together before he shrugged back into his coat and leaned in for one last kiss. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She thought how common it was for a woman to love a man, or a man to love a woman, but how rare for both to feel it for one another in equal measure. Rarer still that the love was the kind that consumed, that started mornings and ended nights—and filled all the hours in between with thoughts of one another.
She stood on tiptoes to reach him again, twining her hands through his hair, not wanting the kiss to end. “So you’ll be back in a couple days?”
She traced the dragonfly on his wrist with her fingertip.
He nodded. “Yeah. I have a place rented down the road for the month. It’s month to month, so no worries there.” He held her hands and leaned back to look at her. “So I drive to the airport tonight and hop a plane to LAX. I’m two days there in the studio, then back up here. I can write anywhere, so that’s what I plan here for a while. Just you and some new songs.”
“Let’s give it a few weeks, then maybe you’d like to meet Regan?”
“I would love nothing more,” he said. He leaned into her and rested his forehead against hers. Together they breathed in and out until at last he touched the palms of his hands to the sides of her face, smiled and pulled back.
“I can’t begin to tell you how much I love you,” he said as he stepped away. “This is just the beginning, Anna Anderson. There’s a lifetime ahead. I promise.”
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