Dear Emily (33 page)

When they arrived back at the retreat, Emily slid from the jeep in time to step into Matt’s arms. He swung her around and then lifted her high in the air.

“I love you, Emily Thorn,” he growled. “I want to marry you!”

“Wow!” Emily growled back before she kissed him soundly. “Listen, I’m not really hungry. Let’s go for a walk. I love this time of day, when the day is done and you can sit back and review what went on and think about how you can make tomorrow even better. How about you, Matt?”

“I’m partial to sunrises.” He reached for her hand. “You know, new days and all that. Do you think there’s anything wrong with falling in love when you’re fifty-five?”

“It’s probably the best time. You’re older, wiser, and your emotions are at an all-time high,” Emily said quietly. When was he going to realize she hadn’t said she loved him too?

“Emily, how hard will it be for you to give up New Jersey and your…that fitness class you teach? Can you be happy here?”

Fitness class?
Could she give all that up? She should have told him who she was a long time ago. For some reason it hadn’t seemed important then. Men have such egos. How would her success affect their relationship? “I don’t know, Matt. Marriage is a tremendous step. We haven’t known each other that long. We aren’t kids anymore. I’m not sure I’m stepmother material. Can we talk about this tomorrow or the next day? Tonight is…I don’t know, kind of special. I feel something I can’t explain. It’s a perfect night, it’s lovely here, and we’re together. We’re sharing and that’s so important.” But she wasn’t sharing; she was cheating by not telling him about her life back home. She could rectify that later. If it became a serious issue, she’d deal with it then.

Two proposals of marriage. And she’d thought no one would ever want her again.

“Speaking of sharing…Emily, have you ever done something so out of character people looked at you like you’d sprouted a second head?”

She laughed. “I don’t think so. Why?”

“Right before I turned fifty, I did something…something I always wanted to do. I went out and bought this…what I did was buy a motorcycle, a Harley Davidson. A low rider. I got it for fifty bucks because it was a total wreck. I rebuilt it from the bottom up. The engine purrs like a kitten, but I’ve never taken it out. I didn’t want people to say I was trying to be a kid again so I go out in the garage, polish it, and sit on it. I even bought a black leather jacket. Would you like to go for a ride?” he asked breathlessly.

“You mean sit on the back and whiz down the road?” Emily asked, excitement bubbling in her voice. “In the dark?”

“Yeah!”

“On the road or…back here?”

“Well, part of it is whizzing down the road like you said. The wind is in your face, your arms are spread, and you experience that awesome feeling of power. They call the Harley I have a Hog. You game, Emily?”

His excitement was so contagious, Emily nodded. Together they sprinted back to the jeep. Forty minutes later they were opening the door of Matt’s garage.

“Is this a beauty or what?”

It must be a man-boy thing, Emily thought. To her, it was nothing more than a bicycle with an engine. She eyed the seat where she was to sit. “I’m not getting on that thing unless you wear the black leather jacket. Does it have silver studs and emblems?”

“It’s got
everything,
even a zipper,” Matt said, his eyes wild with anticipation. “I wish you had one.”

Emily looked down at her sheer dress, thought about her panty hose and high heels. She burst out laughing. They’d be in the woods so no one would ever know she wasn’t an experienced biker or hanger-on or whatever the term was for the person who rode on the back.

“I saw this picture once of a girl on the back of a motorcycle who was wearing a black vest, probably leather, with all this silver stuff on it, and her boobs were hanging out. Almost hanging out. She even had a tattoo on her arm and one in the cleavage.”

“You can work on that for the next time,” Matt said, slipping his arms into the jacket. “Jesus, I can’t believe we’re doing this. Are you excited, Emily?”

Was she? “Petrified would be more like it.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course. It’s just that at my age a stationary bike is more my style. Shouldn’t you be wearing leather boots with steel toes or something?”

“That’s my next purchase. Okay, get on. We’re going to go slow when we’re on the open road. The light is good, but I’ve never driven this in the dark or on the road. Put your hands around my waist and crinkle your dress up around you.”

Emily did as instructed. With his feet on the ground, Matt maneuvered the Harley out to the driveway, where they coasted down to the road. He turned on the engine and it roared to life. In spite of herself, Emily was so thrilled she yelled, “Whoopee!” Her heart roared in her chest.

“Isn’t this great?” Matt yelled as they rode up the mountain.

“I wish we were going to New Mexico with just a backpack,” Matt shouted. Emily knew he was saying something, but she couldn’t hear the words. She squeezed his sides to show her support.

In her life she’d never felt this free, this wild, this happy. She wondered what it would be like to ride this thing all the way back to New Jersey, pull into the driveway at the Sleepy Hollow house, and have everyone rush out to see her in the black leather vest that she was going to buy as soon as possible. Surely there was a catalog just for biker attire. She threw her head back and laughed as she’d never laughed in her life.

The bike was slowing, ready to turn into the entrance of the Black Mountain Retreat. “So what do you think?” Matt said, stopping the bike.

“I think, Matt Haliday, that we’re both nuts, but I love it. Are you sure it will be okay to take this thing on the bike trail? Won’t the sisters have a fit?”

“No one is here except the elderly couples and they don’t bike. The sisters don’t bicycle either. It’s night; everyone is indoors. Ivan and I patrol the trails. I say it’s okay. The jack rabbits and squirrels are safe for the night. We aren’t going to go up the mountains; we’re just going to ride around the trails. I don’t even know if this is the kind of bike for this terrain. I think a dirt bike is more in order, but since this is all we have at our disposal, I say we go for it.”

“I’m ready,” Emily said, squaring her rear end on the seat. “Matt, be careful, some of the trails really dip. There’s one real bad one a mile or so down the second trail, the one with the black and white sign that says
TRAIL DIPS
.”

“I know the one you mean. We pack that down five or six times a year and it still dips. Ivan did it a week or so ago so it should be okay. We can’t figure out why that happens. We even filled it with rock and thirty or forty inches of hard-backed dirt. I’ll be careful. Are you ready?”

“Make my blood sing, Matt,” Emily said happily. “Are you sure you have enough gas?”

“This baby can go forever on a tank of gas.”

They started out slow with Matt talking about everything and anything. When they picked up speed, Emily hardly noticed. The headlight, brighter than the spot lights at the retreat, picked up every rock, pebble, and bush along the way. She had no idea where they were after a while because she was so exhilarated, losing all her sense of direction. She found herself glued to Matt’s muscular back, her hair whipping behind her in wild disarray.

Twenty minutes into the ride, Emily’s stomach muscles started to knot up with anxiety. They were going too fast, Matt wasn’t experienced enough with the cycle, and they were riding on slick pine needles, thick with resin. The trees rushed by in a blur, the wind making her eyes tear. Matt was shouting something, but the wind carried his words off in a rush. She herself was screaming for him to slow down, but her words trailed behind, no more than a whisper. The Harley roared ahead. She felt frightened for her life. The thrills and excitement she’d felt earlier were now two miles back on the trail. Her life as she’d known it flashed before her. Oh, God, she was never going to see her friends or Ben again. Ben. Dear sweet, gentle, kind Ben. Any minute now she was going to be killed because she’d come along on this stupid ride. Without a helmet. She screamed again, her voice hoarse and crackly. When Matt didn’t slow the cycle, she butted her head against his back as hard as she could. The result was a sharp pain in the center of her forehead.

“Get off, Emily, NOW! Tell him to slow down, Emily, and get the hell off that machine.”

“He can’t hear me,” Emily screamed.

“Use your hands, squeeze his sides, butt his head with yours. Do it now, Emily. This is right up there with every stupid thing you’ve ever done.”

Emily brought her head closer to Matt’s helmet and banged it. She gouged his sides, but she knew he didn’t feel it through the leather jacket.

“Slow down, Matt! You’re scaring me!” Emily screamed.

Her left arm glued to Matt’s left side, Emily worked her right hand up under Matt’s jacket to dig at his side. She knew he would take the gesture as excitement.
“Stop!”
she screamed at the top of her lungs.

She saw the branch ahead, its width as round as her wrist with fingers jutting out, thick with leaves. She saw the dip in the road at the same time she thought she heard Ian’s words,
Jump off, NOW!

She saw the piles of rocks, the thickness of the tree trunks, the prickly brush; she even thought she saw a raccoon perched in a tree to her left. Then, as if in slow motion she saw and felt Matt swerve the bike to the right, saw the broken end of the tree limb swing upward, felt it strike her, and then she felt nothing, heard nothing, but her own moans as she stared at the top of the trees outlined in the bright light from the headlight on the Harley.

Emily struggled to move. Wave after wave of dizziness assailed her. “Matt, where are you? Matt!” She thought she was screaming, but her words were no more than whispers. She tried again and again, calling Matt’s name, begging him to answer her. The headlight continued to shine upward like a beacon. Surely Ivan would see it and come to their aid the way he had the last time.

She saw Matt then, spread-eagled on the pile of boulders. She had to get to him, try and help him.

The minutes crawled by until she heard the crackle of the underbrush and saw the moving spear of light.

“Jesus Christ!” The words exploded from Ivan’s mouth like gunshots.

“Is he alive, Ivan? Take care of him. I’m okay for now. I think my shoulder might be fractured. I can’t move my arm.”

“What the hell were you two doing up here on a motorcycle?” Ivan said, his words blistering in the quiet night. She watched as his fingers probed Matt’s body. He really didn’t expect an answer and she was in too much pain to offer one. If she wanted to close her eyes now, she could. Ivan was here; Ivan would see that she and Matt were taken care of. She could hear him on the portable phone issuing orders for a litter, a team of medics, and an ambulance.

He was beside her, squatting down so he was almost eye level with her. “I can strap up your shoulder and move you away from these rocks. You were lucky, Emily, that you landed in the brush. The limb gave you a hell of a whack, though. Guess that’s what did the damage.”

“Is Matt okay?”

“Yes,” Ivan growled. “He’s never taken the bike out before. It was something to tinker with, to polish and admire. You shouldn’t have let him take it out.”

He was blaming her.
Just the way Ian always blamed her. “Like I could have stopped him,” she retaliated. “I told him to slow down, but he was going so fast and the engine is so loud he couldn’t hear me. I tried.” As a defense it was lame, even to her own ears.

“You never should have gotten on the damn bike. If you hadn’t gotten on, he would have left it in the fucking garage where it belongs.”

“That’s not fair,” Emily cried. “You can’t blame me for this.”

“I am blaming you. Matt would never have taken that Harley out of the garage if it wasn’t for you. He’s fifty-five years old and trying to act like he’s twenty-five. For you. You should have had more sense.”

Suddenly there were blinding lights, commotion, and voices. Far away in the distance Emily could hear the sounds of sirens. Ambulances. “I will not allow you to blame me for this, Ivan, not now, not ever, and don’t ever say that to me again.” Emily closed her eyes. She felt herself being raised to go on the litter, heard herself repeat Ian’s words, heard the reassuring reply.

The next hours were nothing more than a blur for Emily. She knew her shoulder was being set, knew she was fighting the anesthetic.

It was midmorning when Emily awoke fully. The first thing she saw were the nuns, in full habit, their sweet faces filled with worry. They advanced as one, spoke as one. “Thank God you’re all right.”

They patted her hands, smoothed her hair back from her forehead, wiped her tears, straightened the covers.

“Tell me about Matt.”

“Ivan said it was my fault. Maybe it was. If it’s true, Sisters, how will I live with that?”

“You can’t blame yourself, child. Matt…Matt knew what he was doing and he broke the rules. You can’t blame yourself,” Sister Gussie said quietly.

“I had…a guiding hand. I was going to…to jump off and take my chances when the tree limb came up out of nowhere. I tried to warn him, but the motorcycle made so much noise Matt couldn’t hear me. I did try, Sisters. I need you to believe me. If you don’t, I’m going to…I can’t go through that again. Can’t we call, ask someone? Where’s Ivan?”

“He’s with Matt. We can try the ranger service. We can call the hospital ourselves or we can get in the van and drive there. What would you like us to do, Emily?”

“Go there. Please.”

It was decided that Sisters Tiny and Cookie would go back to the retreat to take care of the two elderly couples and Sister Phillie would stay with her, the others going to Asheville.

The hours dragged by, one after the other, the wait interminable.

Emily woke a little after eight in the evening to see Sister Phillie saying her rosary on the chair in the corner of the room.

“I thought I heard the others.”