Endless Chain (26 page)

“Not the best part.”

She managed a smile. “No.”

“Thank you for sharing the story.”

She wanted to tell him she felt better, that talking about her family had put her losses in perspective. But, of course, it wasn’t true. Still, she was glad he had cared enough to pull the story out of her, even though caring complicated their relationship and both of them knew it.

“We left to go home that afternoon,” she said. “But years later I learned that the kites are burned at the end of the festival. The dead must be released to go back where they came from. Only for that one day are they allowed to be with us.”

He put his hand over hers. “But you always carry them in your heart.”

“And that is why my heart is so heavy.”

“You can’t let go?”

She looked up, straight into his eyes. “If I let go, who will be left to remember?”

B
y afternoon Sam had a mission in mind, and for once Bed got to join the other dogs. Sam packed all three mutts in his SUV, although he had to lift Bed into the back when her short legs and heroic leaps wouldn’t do the trick. In the driver’s seat, he turned and admonished them.

“You will be on your best behavior. You won’t take off after squirrels or rabbits. If you see a bear, you’ll run in the other direction. If you don’t see a bear, you won’t complain. And no matter what else you do, you won’t do anything that will frighten Elisa. Got it?”

Two wagging tails were visible. Sam was sure that somewhere out of sight Bed’s stumpy tail was stirring the air, too.

He covered the miles between the parsonage and Helen’s house at a moderate clip. His brain was a battlefield, but he had already declared a winner. Perhaps leaving well enough alone today was the most rational strategy. Certainly waiting until he and Christine resolved their future was the most mature strategy. But seeking out Elisa again was the most human strategy, and the one he had chosen.

Last night Christine had called from the country club to wish him a happy Halloween and to tell him that instead of a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, the Fletchers had decided to host a catered gathering for fifty of their closest friends. She expected Sam to come, of course, and when he suggested instead that she drive to Pennsylvania with him to spend the holiday with his family, she refused outright. By the end of the conversation they had settled on a quiet weekend in Toms Brook after they both completed their separate holiday plans.

Sadly, Sam realized he had only suggested this alternative because he and Christine could no longer delay the conversation that was hovering at the edges of their lives.

Sam was relieved when he saw his little Honda parked in Helen’s drive, since he hadn’t consulted Elisa, and he hadn’t warned her he was on his way. He parked behind it and told the dogs he would be back. Then he removed the large plastic bag from the passenger seat and put it on the roof of the car so the dogs couldn’t damage the contents while he was gone.

He knocked, then stood back and waited. He didn’t have to wait long. Elisa, in blue jeans and a dark red blouse tied under her breasts, answered the door. Her shining black hair streamed down her back and over one shoulder. He had never seen it when it wasn’t braided or clipped.

All nobility fled, and he faced the real reason, or at least the biggest one, that he had come to see her this afternoon. He could no longer make himself stay away.

“Sam.” She made two syllables out of it. “Did you leave something in your car this morning?”

“No, but there’s something on my SUV you need to see.” He remembered this feeling from adolescence. Suddenly he didn’t know what to say or where to put his hands. And he was steeling himself, all the while, for rejection.

“I was just in the middle of…” She hesitated, then she smiled a little. “Nothing.”

He relaxed an inch, took a breath and forced his way back to maturity. “I’m glad I’m not pulling you away from something you can’t leave.”

“I was trying to read.”

“What?”

“A textbook on geriatric medicine.”

“It’s a beautiful day outside. Did you notice?”

“I borrowed the book from the home. I…I thought it might help me understand some of the medical terms better.”

“Can you put it down for a while?”

“I could put it down forever.”

“Come see what I brought.” He turned, trusting her to come.

She followed him down the steps almost to his car. “The dogs? You want me to see the dogs?”

“You’ve had that pleasure once today. No, something else.” He glanced sideways, and once again felt her beauty in places that were, under the circumstances, best ignored.

“Breakfast, and now this,” she said.

He thought of Gayle Fortman’s last words that morning. He’d stopped to thank her one more time after Elisa had gone outside to retrieve the car.

Gayle had watched as Elisa disappeared down the steps. “A lot of people who emigrate to this country were lawyers or architects or brain surgeons before they came, and now they’re cleaning churches or asking if we want fries with our burgers. Elisa was one of them, wasn’t she?”

He hadn’t been able to answer. But every time he was with Elisa, he hoped he got a little closer to unlocking her secrets.

“Breakfast was a good idea,” he said now.

She stopped a few feet from the car and waited. One of the dogs—Shad, most likely—signaled his impatience with a pathetic howl. Sam removed the bag and snapped it open wider with the flick of his wrist. Then he pulled out a huge rainbow-colored kite, still in its original package.

He held it out to her. “It’s a perfect day. Sunny. Just enough breeze. Helen’s acres waiting to be trampled by willing feet.”

“Oh, Sam…”

He touched her shoulder, then withdrew his hand. “Don’t say no.”

She put her hands palm to palm and rested her fingertips against her lips. “Where did you get it?”

“Rachel gave it to me for my birthday. When we were kids I used to tell her to go fly a kite whenever she was bothering me. My childhood comes back to haunt me frequently. At least this time it wasn’t a lunch box.”

Her voice was husky. “I like your sister, and I haven’t even met her.”

Sam knew Rachel would like Elisa, too, as would Mark and his parents. They would find Elisa approachable and warm.

“I hope it’s a good one. I grew up in a kite-eating coal patch. The overhead wires were so low, the birds were afraid to sit on them because the alley cats might reach up and grab them. The town saved money by cutting the electric poles so short any kid who grew to be more than six feet was—”

She took the kite out of his hands and looked up at him. “I’d love to fly it with you.”

He fell silent. He thought he’d never seen anyone so appealing as she was at that moment, hair streaming over her shoulders, eyes luminous, lips softly parted.

“You’re a good man,” she said softly.

“We’ll tie messages on the tail.”

“And the dogs will come with us?”

“If you’ll have them.”

“We’ll just keep them on a leash until we’re past the barn and the chicken yard. The ducks at the pond can fend for themselves.”

“Do you need anything inside?”

“Go ahead and let them out. I’ll go the way I am.”

Once the dogs were out of the car, Elisa lavished attention on them; then both of them kept the big dogs in line as they moved past the house and into the open countryside. Bed followed at their heels.

Sam had brought a light jacket, but the sun was hot on his arms and neck through his sweatshirt. He tied it around his waist in case the wind picked up and Elisa needed it.

When it was safe to release them, the dogs scampered ahead, except for Bed, who was still content to be their escort. Cardinals, chickadees and wrens serenaded from low tree branches, and the creek that ran beside the path Elisa had chosen sloshed and bubbled over stones and fallen limbs.

Despite himself, he imagined a life like this one. Simple pleasures appealed to him. His days in Shenandoah County had taught him this, or at least reminded him. But simple pleasures with Elisa seemed anything but. The day already had a resonance, a clarity that was unfamiliar, as if he were seeing it through a lens that sharpened and reduced it to its essence.

She braided her hair, and he was charmed by the fluid movement of her arms even as he mourned the result. She stooped to commiserate with Bed, who’d fallen behind, and the sight of her with his smallest companion, speaking to the dog as if Bed were human—something he, of course, had never done—filled him with tenderness.

They had hiked for twenty minutes to the top of a hill, and for the first time he realized he could see a branch of the river sparkling in the distance. “This would be a wonderful place to build.” He made a slow circle gazing at every view. “Who would need anything but this scenery?”

“Tessa and Mack want to build a house here someday. Can’t you imagine it?”

“Things are turning out well for them. I wasn’t sure they would.”

“I know. She told me they were close to a divorce.”

“People who love each other can’t always live together.”

“Do you counsel people to stay together and preserve their marriage at all costs?”

“Sometimes the costs are too great. But I don’t suggest they give up easily, either.” He thought of Christine and the promises they had made. Neither of them had taken them lightly.

Her next words surprised him. “Marriage was harder than I’d expected. And better, too. But it’s no surprise to me that it doesn’t always last. People who choose for love wake up one morning to discover they’re married to strangers.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“No. I chose Gabrio precisely because he was the man he was. I looked up to him. I knew I could trust him, that there would be no surprises.”

He waited for her to say love had also been part of it, but she didn’t.

“I chose him because he would support me,” she finished. She seemed to realize how that had sounded. “Emotionally. Not financially. Gabrio was there for me in the dark hours of my life.”

“Will you send him a message today?”

She lifted her chin and shaded her eyes with a hand. “Gabrio was an atheist. He would laugh at me for trying to communicate with the dead. He would say it’s not scientific.”

“Are you an atheist?”

“More often than I’m a believer.”

“Does it matter today?”

He watched her consider. “Not at all.”

“I’ll assemble the kite while you word your messages and decide who gets them. I warn you, though, no one has ever accused me of being handy. This might take a while.”

“We have the whole afternoon.” She paused. “Or do we?”

“I’ve cleared my empty schedule just for you. We have a guest preacher tomorrow, and I have no sermon to write.”

Her eyes sparkled. “How lucky I am.”

He was the lucky one, and he knew it. There was no place he would rather be, and truth be told, no one he would rather be with. And that was now the central problem in his life.

He handed her note cards and strips he’d torn off a sheet that had seen better days. They found a tree to lean against and made separate nests in the fallen leaves at its base. Lounging comfortably, Sam took the kite from the bag and read the directions. Elisa stared into space. Beyond them, the dogs chased each other through the grass or investigated the plethora of new scents.

The kite was simple to assemble. He finished it quickly, then read through the book that had come with it, wondering how in all his years on the earth he had never put a kite in the air.

He turned to gaze at Elisa. She was writing, and he saw how grave she had become. He sobered, too. Her long braid, fastened with a rubber band from her pocket, fell over the shoulder closer to him. Her profile showed traces of Indian heritage more clearly than a full facial view. Her cheekbones were wide, her nose narrow and short, her eyebrows black winged slashes against sun-kissed skin. He wondered how much of that warm latte color was sun and how much her natural skin tone, and he realized where his thoughts were leading.

She tapped the pen against her cheek. She looked pensive and undecided.

“Hard to know what to say?” he asked.

She didn’t answer for a moment. He wasn’t sure she was going to. Then she looked at him. “Hard to know who to say it to.”

“Hard to choose?”

“I…” She looked torn.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“There’s someone…I don’t know whether to send him a note, as well.”

He saw this was not a simple exercise. As it was with many religious rituals, this was more about facing herself and her fears.

“What will it hurt?” he asked.

“I don’t know if Ramon is alive or…dead.”

Whoever Ramon was, he was important. Sam could see how important in her eyes. The fact that she had shared this fear with him was more evidence. He wondered who this man was and what he meant to her.

He knew better than to actively probe. “Ramon is special to you.”

The answer came much more quickly than he had expected.

“My brother.”

He turned to his side so he could see her better. “The same brother you told me about?”

“I have only one.”

“And you don’t know if he’s alive?”

She gave one shake of her head.

She had revealed more than she’d wanted. He could see that. He could also see that if he asked her to tell him more, she would shut him out. Elisa had to explain her past a little at a time, and today he was almost certain she had shared as much as she would.

“You could ask the departed to watch over him, Elisa. Wherever he is.”

Her expression softened. “I almost think you’ve flown these kites of remembrance yourself.”

“In one way or another, we all have.”