Farewell to Cedar Key (15 page)

27

T
he following morning I woke to the sound of laughter. Turning over in bed, I realized it was Grant and Orli. The bedside clock read 8:30. God, I'd slept like a rock and couldn't believe it was that time already. I got up, hit the bathroom, and put on my robe before I walked into the kitchen to find father and daughter engrossed in a crossword puzzle as they stood near each other at the counter.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Grant said with a huge grin on his face. “Coffee?”

He walked to the Bunn coffeemaker on the counter, filled a stoneware mug, and passed it to me.

“Thanks, and gosh, I didn't mean to sleep so late. What time did you get up, Orli?”

She waved her hand in the air. “Oh, hours ago. Dad and I have been waiting for you so we could get going.”

I glanced at her and saw she was still in her pajamas. “You little fibber, you,” I said, going over to give her hug.

She let out a laugh. “Nah, I only got up about a half hour ago, about the same time Dad did.”

“Yeah, there's no rush,” he said. “How about some French toast for breakfast?”

“Cool,” Orli said before bending her head back over the puzzle.

Grant began removing items from the fridge and cabinets. “So you slept well?”

“Very well, thanks, but can I help?”

“Nope. I've got this under control. Just relax.”

I walked toward the French doors and looked out to the patio. Another sunny day. I cracked the door and then shivered. “Oh, you were right. Definitely cooler out there this morning.”

“Yeah, I caught the weather when I got up, and you might get your wish, Orli. There's a possibility of snow flurries tomorrow evening.”

“Sweet. On Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, did my box arrive with all the Christmas presents?” I'd decided it was much easier to ship the gifts rather than lug them on the plane.

Grant nodded as he poured batter onto a large skillet. “Yes, I put the box into the hall closet.”

“Thanks.” I perched on a stool next to Orli as I watched Grant display an ease in the kitchen that I remembered from our college days at his apartment.

Orli continued to study the crossword as I sat and watched Grant cook bacon to go with the French toast. Such a normal everyday scene in most households, but the three of us were experiencing it for the first time—and I discovered I liked it.

“Here we go,” I heard Grant say as he placed plates on the table. “Chef Cooper bids you
bon appétit
.”

Orli and I both laughed as we joined him.

“Gosh, your cooking skills put mine to shame,” I said after taking a bite. “Delicious.”

“That's not true, Mom. I think you're a good cook.”

My daughter, ever the diplomat.

After a few minutes, she said, “You know . . . I was kinda wondering. . . maybe Friday or Saturday we could take a drive to Boston. To see the Emerson campus.”

Grant stared at me from across the table, leaving the ball in my court.

I took a sip of juice and nodded. “Well . . . yeah. I think we could probably do that. They're closed for Christmas break though, so you wouldn't be able to go inside.”

“Right, I know, but I think I'd just like to see the area.”

“You're sounding pretty interested in Emerson,” I said.

“I think I might be.”

“If it's okay with your mom, sure, we could make a day of it and then have dinner in the North End after.”

“Yeah, that sounds great,” I said. Then why did I have a nagging ache inside of me?

 

A few hours later we pulled up in front of Grant's childhood home, located on a narrow side street in Old Town. I'd always loved this house. The white clapboard building sat back from the sidewalk surrounded by a small garden that was now in its winter slumber. With gabled roof, brick chimneys and bay windows, the two-story structure was the quintessential historical home in Marblehead.

Walking down the brick path, I looked up to see that Molly had already flung open the front door and was standing on the porch to greet us.

Orli rushed into her arms. “Merry Christmas, Gram. You look great.”

Molly did look great. At sixty-six she had maintained her youthful figure and the cut of her short, stylish silver hair very much resembled mine.

She opened her other arm to me. “Josie, how wonderful you're here. You and Orli both get prettier each time I see you.”

I laughed and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Come on inside. It's getting nippy out here. I think they're predicting flurries for tomorrow night.”

We followed her into the large hallway and the spacious sitting room on the right.

“That's what Dad said. I'm hoping we do get a bit of snow. Makes it more festive, don't you think?”

Molly laughed. “It's festive until you have to shovel it. How about some tea, coffee? Hot chocolate for you, Orli?”

I nodded. “Coffee would be great, thanks. Can I help with anything?”

“Oh, I'll help her,” Orli said before Molly could respond.

“Sit down and make yourself comfortable,” Grant told me.

I looked around the room and smiled. There was a lot to be said for things not changing. The room looked much as it had years before on my first visit to this house. Same cushy furniture, antique tables and lamps, and Persian carpet covering the center of the hardwood floor. Late-morning sunlight streamed through the bay windows, adding to the coziness, and in front of the windows a huge Christmas tree dominated the room. I could smell the scent of pine and walked over to admire the many ornaments and decorations.

“This is such a great house, Grant. I've always loved it, and your mom did an outstanding job with the tree.” I sank into one of the armchairs.

He nodded. “Yeah, I agree, and the house has been in our family for generations, so that makes it extraspecial.”

I thought of my grandmother's house where Orli and I lived and knew what he meant. Glancing around I saw that one lacquered table held framed photographs and got up to take a look.

Grant's parents' wedding photo stood beside one of Jeff and Melissa. There were images of both Orli and Dirk at various stages of growth and one photo that I hadn't seen in years: Grant and I taken during the first year we met. We'd gone on a picnic to Devereux Beach in Marblehead with a group of friends from college. It was an exceptionally mild day in November. Grant and I sat atop the stone wall with the ocean behind us. My long hair was blowing in the wind, and we were snuggled into each other's arms. I lifted the photo to look closer and saw the emotion of pure joy and love on our faces.

“You had that photo blown up and gave it to me for Christmas that year, remember?”

I spun around to see Grant standing behind me, a somber expression on his face.

“I do,” was all I said as I vividly recalled that magical day. Later that evening at his apartment we'd made love for the first time.

“Here we go,” Molly said, coming into the room with Orli behind her carrying a tray. “Hot drinks and some gingerbread cookies I baked this morning.”

My memory evaporated, and I returned to the armchair.

“So are your plans all made for the birthday celebration Sunday evening?” Molly asked.

Grant hadn't said a word to me about what he had planned, so I was as curious as his mother.

He nodded. “Yes, and now that they're here I can tell them. I made reservations at Marliave in Boston.”

“Marliave? Did you, Dad? That's my favorite place. You took me there for a birthday lunch when I turned ten.”

“That's right. I did and knew it was your favorite, so I thought it would be the perfect place to celebrate your Sweet Sixteen.”

My hand trembled as I reached for my coffee cup.
Marliave.
The place where I'd told Grant over dinner that I was pregnant with Orli. In the last twenty-four hours my past seemed to be on a collision course with my present.

 

I yawned as Grant pulled into the space in front of his building.

He reached over and patted my knee. “Tired? I promise we'll have an easier day tomorrow.”

“No, no. I'm fine.” I got out of the car and followed Orli and Grant into the building.

It
had
been a full day, but a very enjoyable one. After visiting with Molly, we had lunch at the Barnacle overlooking the harbor in Marblehead, followed by the coastal drive that Orli had requested. On the way home we stopped for pizza at a little place in Danvers Square.

“I'm going to go call Laura,” Orli said, heading to our room. “She won't believe the amazing day that we had.”

I glanced at my watch and saw it was already seven. “My mother still hasn't called about her doctor's appointment today. I'm going to give her a call,” I told Grant as I settled myself at the kitchen counter.

“Would you like some wine?”

I nodded as I tapped my parents' number on my cell. “Yes, please.”

I was surprised to hear my father answer. “Dad? How's Mom doing? How'd her appointment go today?”

“Josie, hi. Well . . . ah . . . we're still not sure what's going on. The doctor arranged for a scan on Friday.”

A scan the day after Christmas? This didn't sound good.

“What exactly do they think it is?”

“Well . . . it's too soon to get concerned. We'll know more on Friday, I think. Your mother's resting.”

I felt a shiver of fear crawl up my back. “Is Maggie there? Let me speak to Mags.”

“Okay, and Josie, I hope you and Orli are having a good time.”

“We are, Dad. Let me talk to Mags.”

“Josie, sweetie.” Maggie's voice came across the line.

“Mags, what's up with my mom?” I knew Maggie would be honest.

I heard her let out a deep sigh. “Josie, honey, the doctor suspects that your mother could have uterine cancer.”

28

I
disconnected my call with Mags and stood in Grant's kitchen as if I were slowly waking from a dream. This couldn't be possible.
My mother hadn't appeared sick,
I thought and then my mind quickly shifted from that of daughter to that of nurse. I knew that sometimes with gynecological cancers there were very few symptoms.

“Everything okay?” I heard Grant say before he saw the look on my face. After placing the wineglasses on the counter, he came over to scoop me into his arms. “Are
you
okay, Josie?”

I fought to hold back the tears ready to spill out of my eyes and whispered, “They think my mom could have cancer of the uterus.”

“Oh, Josie. Oh, God, I'm so sorry.”

I felt his hand on the back of my head and I pushed away from his chest as I swiped at the tears still threatening.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “Don't say a word. I don't want Orli to know right now. She doesn't need this special time ruined.”

Grant nodded and squeezed my hand. “We'll talk later. Here, have some wine.”

A few minutes later Orli came out of the bedroom full of excitement from talking with Laura. “She said Clovelly is doing fine. She went over to feed him and visit twice today. Is it okay if I have some ice cream, Dad?”

“Of course, help yourself.”

I took another gulp of wine and felt Grant's eyes on mine.

Orli spun around as she removed a carton of Rocky Road from the freezer. “Oh, did you call Nana? What happened at the doctor?”

“Yeah, I did. Well, they're not sure what's going on. She's having more tests on Friday.”

“Oh, that's good. I bet it's not serious,” she said as she began spooning ice cream into a bowl.

I attempted to hold on to my daughter's optimism as the three of us passed the evening playing gin rummy. If Orli thought I was unusually quiet, she didn't say anything.

She got up from the kitchen table and stretched when we finished the second game. “I'm going to shower and then read in bed before I go to sleep. What's up for tomorrow, Dad?”

“Well, it's Christmas Eve so how about if we go out for brunch late morning and then spend the day decorating the tree? I'm going to make my famous shrimp scampi for dinner, so it'll be a nice quiet day with just the three of us.”

“Cool,” Orli said, bending to kiss Grant's cheek. “Gram's tree was gorgeous, but I was hoping we'd decorate one here too.”

Orli kissed me good night and headed to the bedroom.

“How about another glass of wine?” Grant asked.

“Sounds good,” I said, and curled up at one end of the sofa.

Thoughts of my mother kept swirling in my head. I wanted to think positive. I really did, but this was one of those times when a little bit of knowledge could be dangerous. From my nursing experience I knew that people didn't always get the happy solutions they longed for.

“Here ya go.”

Grant passed me the wineglass before settling beside me.

“To your mother,” he said, touching my glass with his. “To her good health.”

“Thanks.” I took a sip and then rested my head against the sofa. “I'm worried, Grant.”

He reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Of course you are. That's only natural.”

I took another sip of wine. “God, I'd be the first one to say my mother can be such a pain in the ass. But . . .” The tears that I'd struggled to hold back earlier now escaped, and I felt myself being wrapped in Grant's arms.

“Shh. It's okay. It'll be all right.”

I felt his hand stroking my back as I attempted to get control of my emotions.

“It's so damn scary,” I said against his chest.

I felt his head nod. “I know, but as a nurse you should also know that many times the problem is something simple. Something benign that has an easy fix.”

I sat up and took a deep breath. “Right. I know you're right. Thanks, Grant.”

I took another sip of wine. “Oh, your mom took me aside and told me about the surprise birthday party she planned for Orli on Christmas day.”

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, she knew I wanted to have the special dinner Sunday evening for the three of us, but she wanted to celebrate Orli's birthday too.”

“She said she's baking Orli's favorite raspberry velvet cake and they have birthday gifts for her to open. That's really nice. And Jeff, Melissa, and Dirk will be there to help her celebrate.” I paused for a second before saying, “Just like a real family.”

By the time I headed to bed an hour later, I realized two things—I was very grateful that I'd been with Grant when I got the news about my mother, and there was a distinct possibility I was falling in love with him all over again.

 

I woke the following morning to find the weather predictions had been accurate. Pulling aside the bedroom curtain, I saw white, fluffy snow falling from the sky. There was very little accumulation, and the cars in the parking lot had just a dusting of what looked like sugar.

Orli was still asleep and the clock read 6:45. I put on my robe and crept quietly out of the room. I was surprised to see Grant already sitting at the kitchen table, bent over the newspaper with a coffee mug in front of him.

He looked up and smiled. “Good morning. Sleep okay?”

“Surprisingly, yes. I think the wine helped.” I filled my own mug with coffee and joined him. “How about you? Are you sleeping okay with us in the house?”

“Better than I have in years. This being alone isn't all that it's cracked up to be.”

Grant was probably right. I had Orli at home, but his house was completely empty.

“Hey, the weatherman was right. There's a bit of snow out there.”

“Yeah, although I don't think it's going to amount to much, I think Orli will be happy.” He took a sip of coffee, and I instinctively knew there was something he wanted to tell me. From the very beginning we'd had this magic gift of almost knowing each other's thoughts.

Sure enough, a few moments later, he said, “You know, Josie, there's something I wanted to discuss with you. I know you have a lot on your mind with your mother, but while Orli's still asleep, I thought I should tell you.”

I leaned forward, my eyes glued to his face. “What is it?”

He cleared his throat before saying, “Orli has told me something and she's quite nervous that it might cause you to be upset.”

What the hell? “Just tell me, Grant.” I felt my annoyance notching up.

“Well . . . she was wondering . . . if maybe she could finish her senior year of high school up here.”

“What?” What the hell was he talking about? Orli told me everything. We'd never had secrets and yet . . . she was considering something like this and had never told me?

“She hasn't mentioned anything to you because it's just something she's thinking about. So she wanted to tell me first, and I think she wanted me to pave the way with you.”

I knew I'd probably lose Orli when she set off for college, but that was over a year away. I'd had no idea that I could be losing my daughter as soon as the coming spring.

I shook my head. “I don't know what to say. No, she's not said a word about this to me.” I blew out a breath. “Why the hell would she want to do this? I don't understand. I thought she liked living in Cedar Key. She has loads of friends there. Why on earth would she want to leave and complete her senior year at a strange high school? I don't get it.” My initial surprise was now beginning to turn to anger.

“I'm not sure either,” Grant said. “She didn't give me a reason why. She only said it's something she's giving some thought. I'll let you handle it, Josie. It's up to you whether you want to mention this to her.”

Once again, Grant deferred to me. Something he had done from the moment I'd told him that I was pregnant. I felt a sliver of selfishness creep through me. Despite the visits, the holidays, the phone calls, Grant had never really been allowed to spend long periods of time with his daughter. Had I been too selfish with Orli, wanting to keep her all to myself? I thought of my mother and questioned the fine line between being a control freak and being independent.

“So . . . how would you feel about that, Grant? How would you feel about taking on a teenage daughter full time? Would you want her living here with you? Having a kid around can certainly cramp somebody's single lifestyle.” I knew I sounded bitchy, but I couldn't help it.

He waited a few moments before answering. “First of all, despite what you might think, I don't have a single lifestyle, Josie. Sure, like you, I've dated a bit here and there, but there's only been . . .” He cleared his throat. “I have a very boring life.” A smile crossed his face. “If Orli made the decision to live here with me, and you agreed, then yes, of course, I'd love to have her. But I wouldn't go against you. She means the world to you. I know that. But Josie, just don't forget . . . she means the world to me too.”

I nodded and remained silent.