Stephen and Claire walked along the river, which at this time of day—sunset—was a greenish-brown hue. The oaks across the way, with just a hint of autumn color, soared high above and were reflected in the water as in a mirror image. Frogs sang an off-key chorus in the cattails down by the river’s edge.
“This was a fun idea,” Stephen told Claire. “I’ve never been here before—not walking like this.”
“Me, neither,” she admitted. “But every time I eat lunch at the bistro it always seems so inviting.”
Stephen wanted to ask her who she ate lunch with, but instead he asked, “Why haven’t you ever done it?”
“Oh, too busy I guess. I’m usually with a colleague who needs to get back to campus, or I need to grade papers or prepare for a class.”
She patted his arm with her free hand and then clasped it, forming a circle around his arm with both of hers.
“I’m afraid I’m not much good at having fun, Stephen,” Claire admitted. “I used to be—I mean, I think I was—but it’s part of my problem now. I know it is. Abuelita says I’m always thinking too hard to have fun. ‘Let go, relax, and enjoy yourself,’ she always tells me. She has fun all the time.”
“Well, are you having fun now?”
“I am.”
“Congratulations!” Stephen smiled at her.
She smiled back thoughtfully, not showing any teeth.
“I’m glad to be a source of mindless fun for you,” he teased.
“You’re hardly that.”
They came to the end of the sidewalk where there was a bridge.
“Do you have time to go across?” Stephen asked her.
“I’d really like to, but I don’t think I should.”
He was disappointed but didn’t let it show. He understood how important it was for her to be home with Graeme, and he respected that.
In the truck on the way back to campus, it seemed to Stephen that Claire sat a little closer. She put her arm on the armrest between them so that her hand was close to his instead of in her lap.
“Can I play a quick song for you?” he asked her.
“Sure, that would be lovely.”
Joe had lent him one of Frieda’s CDs. It featured old hymns—really old ones that were largely out of fashion—set to new arrangements by a stellar pianist, one of the best accompanists Stephen had ever heard. The singer was a black woman whom Frieda admired, and her voice was powerful.
“Be still my soul, the Lord is on your side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly Friend,
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.”
As the music played, Stephen reached out and took Claire’s hand. They drove to the parking lot behind Irby immersed in the ethereal sound and the poignant words of all five verses of Jean Sibelius’s hymn.
When it ended, they were parked in the empty space beside Claire’s car. The silence seemed as loud—or louder—than the music had been just moments before. The only light was a street lamp some distance away; the parking lot was not well-lit by safety standards.
Claire did not let go of Stephen’s hand but gripped it, which surprised him. He sat—trying not to think too hard himself—and enjoyed the moment. When she turned her face toward him, her eyes were shining with tears.
“That was beautiful,” she said. She still didn’t let go.
“Could I walk you to your car? I don’t want this evening to be over, but I want to help you get back to Graeme.”
Claire nodded, releasing his hand. “Thanks. Yes.”
He got out. She sat in the truck and waited for him to come around and open her door. Then they walked the few feet it was to her driver’s side door.
“I’ll follow you and make sure you get home safely,” Stephen offered.
Claire smiled at him. Her eyes lingered, and her smile, just long enough.
They were standing painfully close. Stephen hoped she couldn’t hear his heart, as it beat like a big bass drum in his ears.
He reached up with his right hand and cupped her face gently, leaning forward and nudging only her face, her lips toward him. It required great restraint for Stephen not to take her in his arms. He kissed her softly but honestly.
When she opened her eyes, he saw no fear in them.
“Can I call you?” he asked, his voice husky, his world in a tenuous balance.
“You’d better,” she said with a coy smile.
Chapter Twenty-four
Stephen honked the horn as Claire turned off the highway and into her driveway, pulling through the open gates of the Casa. She beeped back and paused a moment to watch his truck pass by. There was the faintest scent of wood smoke in the air around her—or in her hair and clothes, she supposed, from sitting next to Stephen in his truck, holding his hand, and kissing him.
It had been so long since she had kissed a man. As Stephen’s truck disappeared, Claire was unnerved a little by the longing she felt. The hunger. She had never expected to feel this way about another man, never imagined herself kissing anyone else but Rob. He had been her husband; he had fully satisfied her on many different levels.
Of course he wasn’t perfect—no relationship was—but Rob had been the one for Claire. The one who knew her and loved her; the one she thought would always be there. They had planned to grow old together. To take care of one another. He was the father of her child.
But Rob was gone. Like the vapor rising from the Rio Grande River, their life together had vanished, become a part of the atmosphere of memory. It was no longer a thing of here and now. Their story was over.
Stephen was here and now. And that thought—instead of making Claire want to run the other way, toward a past that was gone—in this moment at least, comforted her. The tenderness of his hands, the warmth of his lips, and the strong heart beating inside his chest awakened something in her. Something fragile as a bird’s wing just before it takes flight. Something electric and quivering like a bowstring after its arrow is released. Something that felt like life.
“Hi, baby!” she hollered when she saw Graeme at the kitchen table eating a snack. He was wearing Batman pajamas complete with the black cape, and his hair hung in damp ringlets around his face. “I see you’ve already had your bath!”
She set her things down in the entryway and rushed up to him.
Graeme looked at her with dull eyes. “Yep.” He looked away, taking a bite of cereal.
Abuelita, who was sitting beside him with a cup of tea, smiled weakly at Claire, raising her eyebrows just a touch to indicate trouble.
Claire bent down to Graeme’s eye level and looked him in the eyes. “Can I have a hug?” she asked.
“Well, maybe when I finish my cereal.” Graeme stirred his spoon around the bowl casually.
“Graeme, you give your mother a hug!” Abuelita chastened.
He shot Abuelita a scowl but reached his arms out limply.
“Gee, thanks,” Claire said, embracing him. She sat down at the table on the other side of Graeme. “So, what have you guys been up to?”
“Oh, we’ve had such a good time,” Abuelita said. “We went to Sonic after school for an early dinner.”
“Ooh—you’re spoiling him, Abuelita.”
“Well, we thought that since you were having a date, we’d have one, too, didn’t we, Graemesy?”
Graeme nodded his head curtly.
“Then we went to Dempsey Park and played a little while,” Abuelita went on.
“What did you play?” Claire asked Graeme.
“I swung, and Abuelita pushed me.”
“Ah, but I didn’t have to push very much, because Graeme is such a good pumper!”
“Graeme, that’s great!”
“Gabbie taught me how at recess, but now I can do it better than her.”
Claire almost chided him for bra
gging but decided against it. “Did you play on the monkey bars?”
“Nah, just the swings and the merry-go-round.”
“And the slide! Don’t forget the slide!” Abuelita reminded him.
“Oh yeah, they got a new slide! It’s supercool.”
“What’s it like?” Claire was so glad to have him look at her that she kept asking questions.
“Well, it’s red and curvy, and—well, you’ll just have to see it. Maybe tomorrow we can go there. If you’re not too busy.”
Graeme’s tone told Claire what his gestures and words—or the lack of them—had all meant. She leaned her head on one side and scooted closer, trying to make eye contact.
“Graeme, you know how important you are to me. I love spending time with you, and I’m not away from you very much.”
“Well, why did you come home so late tonight? And not eat dinner with me and Abuelita?”
Graeme’s green eyes seemed to expand as Claire stared into them, searching for a way to help him understand.
“First of all, it is not late at night. It’s seven thirty. And I came home early from my date specifically so I could be with you.”
Graeme nodded his head slowly.
“Do you know Dr. Reyes? The one who took care of you in the emergency room that first time when you had to go from school?”
“When Nurse Bonita took me and you met us there?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Yeah, I remember him. He’s Dr. Marquez’s brother.”
“You’re right! He is! And he’s just as nice as she is. He took Mommy on a special date for dinner this evening.”
“Why?” Graeme asked. “Did you need some medicine?”
“No. It was because he likes me, and we wanted to talk to each other.”
Graeme made a face like she had suddenly sprouted horns. “That’s weird,” he said.
“Why is that weird?”
“Because, it just is. Why did you have to go out on a date to talk to each other?”
“Well, it’s kind of like you and Gabbie. She’s your friend, and you like to spend time with her, don’t you?”
“Yeah. But I don’t see how that’s like you and Dr. Reyes.”
“Well, we want to be friends. So we’re going to spend some time together to get to know each other.”
Graeme looked unconvinced.
Claire decided to move on. “Have you practiced your violin?”
“No, Abuelita didn’t make me.”
Claire looked at Abuelita.
“I don’t know how to practice that thing with him!” Abuelita threw her hands up in the air.
“Well, let’s do it, then. Go get your violin and I’ll meet you in the parlor.”
“Oh, Mom, do I have to?”
“Yes, sir, you do.”
Graeme took his bowl to the sink and then trudged up the stairs.
“Did you have fun?” Abuelita asked Claire with a sparkle in her eye.
“I did.” Claire smiled wryly. “But it looks like it’s going to cost me.”
After they’d been through Graeme’s repertoire, which consisted of the first six songs in The Suzuki Violin Method, Volume One and included several variations of “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,” Claire asked him to show her his bow positions. Graeme held the bow straight up, thumb on the frog and fingertips peeping over the bow “like snakes on a log.” He motioned as he recited: “Up like a rocket, down like the rain. Side to side like a choo-choo train. Round and round like the great big sun, pointing my fingers, curving my thumb.”
Then he bowed low from the waist, keeping his knees straight, tucking the violin under his arm and holding the bow straight down. “Now it’s time to take a bow, ichi, ni and son is how.” He counted to three in Japanese, bowing three times to the sides and center.
Claire clapped her hands approvingly. “Bravo! Bravo!”
Graeme fastened his violin and bow back into their case and zipped it up. “Can we watch my movie of Daddy before bed?” he asked.
Claire put on her pink cotton pajamas, got the DVD ready, and curled up with Graeme in her bed. She pushed PLAY, and Rob’s face—still healthy-looking and robust to the undiscerning eye—appeared on the flat screen of the TV Abuelita had installed in their room.
“Hey, buddy,” Rob’s voice said.
Graeme grinned, mesmerized as usual by his “movie.”
“I’m making this DVD because there are some things I want you to always know. One day I won’t be able to tell you, but you can watch me on this and it will remind you, okay?”
“Okay,” Graeme whispered.
“Daddy is sick, and pretty soon I’m going to go to heaven. When you don’t see me anymore I want you to remember that I am in heaven, but I am also in your heart.”
Graeme looked at Claire and snuggled closer. She stroked his back and played with his curly raven hair.
“I’ve made you some other movies for when you’re bigger. They’re about some of the things I wanted to teach you and do with you. But this one is the most important. In this one I want to tell you the three most important things to remember for your whole life.”
Rob’s eyes were steady, unwavering. Claire remembered how meticulous he’d been about recording these sessions to leave for Graeme—how crucial it was for him. She took a deep breath and held Graeme closer.
“The first thing is that Jesus loves you. No matter what happens, you must always remember that. Jesus loves you. He thinks you’re awesome. He loves you more than anyone else ever can or will. And He will never stop, no matter what. Okay? So that’s the first thing I want you to always remember. Jesus loves you.”
Graeme looked up at Claire and smiled peacefully. He was getting sleepy. This film was exactly what Rob had intended it to be—a mode of connection, a safe place, a security net for his son.
“The second thing is that I love you. You and Mommy are the best things that have ever happened to me, and I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else. I thank God every day that I get to be your daddy. Always remember that I love you and that even if you can’t see me, I still love you, because love is forever.”
Claire knew, by the slight break in the movie, and also because Rob had told her about it later, that he had had to stop for a few moments after that segment. He had filmed it by himself while she and Graeme were out running errands.
They had always taken lots of pictures—both still and video—but after the terminal diagnosis, Rob went on a filming spree, building Graeme a video library for the future. There was a demonstration of shaving and one of how to tie a tie. There was a talk about puberty and even how to ask a girl for a date. Rob also filmed himself telling Graeme stories about his life. Claire assisted him with all of it, capturing moments of them playing or reading together, even napping. It was important to Rob that Graeme have those concrete images to refer to—to help him remember, and to be able to see how much he was loved.
They always had a special relationship, but when Rob learned he was dying, he spent even more time—every moment he could—with Graeme. They packed lots of fun into a few months. Before the palliative chemo stopped working and the cancer spread. Before Rob was emaciated, jaundiced, and incoherent much of the time. Before he couldn’t get out of bed.
Claire emerged from her thoughts to see that Graeme’s movie was concluding.
“The third thing is this: We can see each other again someday. If you believe in Jesus and trust Him with your life, we will be together in heaven. I hope you live to be an old, old man, even older than Grandpa. But when your life is over, I’ll be looking for you in heaven. Be there!”
Rob smiled, and Claire knew he was holding back tears. The DVD clicked off. She looked down at Graeme, saw he was asleep, and gingerly shifted him over onto a pillow.
Not ready to go to bed herself, Claire padded down the stairs in pink slippers and walked into the kitchen. She made herself a china cupful of chai tea and then moved into the living room, where Ab
uelita was crocheting squares for an afghan and listening to the news on TV.
“Can I get you a cup of tea?” Claire asked her.
“No, hija, thank you. I will wet the bed if I drink any more.”
Claire laughed, and it felt good. Abuelita had a knack for bringing her back from the brink.
Abuelita looked up from the orange square she was working on and smiled.
“I am so glad you came down. I have been waiting to hear all about your date with the handsome doctor.”
“Oh, Abuelita, I am a bit of a mess. Graeme and I just finished watching his ‘Daddy Movie.’”
Abuelita sighed and clicked her tongue.
“It is a beautiful thing Rob did for Graeme, and I am not surprised he wanted to watch it tonight.”
“I know. I just wish it was easier for me to watch.” Claire took a sip of her tea. “Do you think Graeme is okay?”
“I think Graeme is flourishing. You are a wonderful mother, and he is a strong, smart boy.”
Claire smiled appreciatively.
“It will be easier for you both someday. And though Dr. Reyes may stir up a little trouble at first, perhaps he’ll help with that.”
Abuelita looked Claire square in the face before she continued. “You will always love Rob, and he will always be a part of your life’s story. But you must keep moving forward. I am very pleased that you went on a date with Dr. Reyes. Now tell me all about it.”
Though Claire was tempted to wallow in the “mess” that Graeme’s movie evoked, she forced herself to move forward as Abuelita instructed. She settled in and told all about Stephen, their dinner, the walk, and even the kiss, feeling something like she had the night she returned home from her high school prom to find Abuelita waiting in the same chair, presumably with the same crochet needle. Just different thread.
“Ooh la la!” Abuelita exclaimed, covering a giggle with her hand after Claire described the kiss. “Muy bueno!”
Love Finds You in Romeo, Colorado Page 18