Heart of the Country (23 page)

56

T
HERE ARE TIMES
you just don’t want to open your eyes. I’d been in a deep sleep, the kind that makes you feel like you’ve sunk into your mattress and it is protecting you from the outside world. And there is a moment between wakefulness and sleep that seems like perfect peace, like the way heaven must feel all the time.

My body felt weightless and my mind felt clear. My heart didn’t ache.

Stay here.

I wondered if this was how Mom felt right before she died. If this was what beckoned her on to eternity, I would’ve gone too.

But it was quickly rattled away by a snore and then a snort from Olivia, who turned over and mumbled something about cake batter in her sleep.

I opened my eyes, stared at the ceiling, and all the heartache rushed back. My reality had returned. But I had my sister and my dad. There wasn’t much more I could ask for.

I turned to look at him, but to my surprise, the bed was empty. Even made.

“What time is it?” Olivia asked, her voice groggy and two octaves lower.

I looked at the clock for the first time. “Good grief. It’s nine!”

“I haven’t slept till nine since before the girls were born,” Olivia said as I rolled over to face her. “Did the beauty sleep do me any good?”

I laughed. “You don’t need beauty sleep, my dear.”

“Tell that to this old face.” She rubbed her eyes. “They have continental breakfast here?”

“Until nine,” I sighed. “But you didn’t come all the way to New York for oatmeal and toast, did you? You need a bagel! Maybe we can talk Dad into it. He’s been pretty gung ho on the local food.”

“Where is Dad?” Olivia asked, rising up on one elbow.

I pointed to the bathroom door, which was closed. “Getting ready, I guess.”

“I wondered if he even noticed I was here,” Olivia said. “I can’t believe he didn’t wake up with all that chattering we did last night.”

“We have until noon to get to the hospital. Time for a little sightseeing anyway,” I said.

“You feel up to it?”

“Sure. I still love this city. It’s not home, but it’s interesting.”

“Get our mind off of why we’re here.”

“Yeah.” And I had to remind myself of the real reason we were here, and it wasn’t to feed into some fantasy notion that Luke and I were meant to be together, against all odds. I had to find my own way to say good-bye to it all, but I wasn’t sure how to do that. Right now, though, I had to focus on Dad.

“What’s he doing in there?” Olivia asked. “I have to pee. The man doesn’t have a lot of hair to comb.”

I laughed. “Dad, hurry it up in there! You’ve got two girls that have to go potty!”

“Remember the time he didn’t believe that you had to go and you went all over the tractor seat?”

“Oh yeah. He never made that mistake again. And I never made the mistake of drinking the whole pitcher of lemonade.”

“You loved your lemonade!”

“Yes, I did.” I sat up in bed. “Dad? You okay in there?”

No answer. We glanced nervously at each other and Olivia flung her legs to the side of the bed and got out. “He’s going deaf, you know.” She knocked on the door. “Daddy? You okay?”

We listened. Olivia’s eyes grew wide as she glanced back at me.

“Dad?” She quickly opened the door.

I jumped out of bed, but Olivia walked out of the bathroom before I got there. “He’s not there.”

“He’s not there?”

We both looked at the made bed. “Dad went out without us?” Olivia gasped. “In New York City?”

“Okay, let’s calm down. At least we know he’s okay. Let’s just call his cell phone.”

“Dad doesn’t have a cell phone, Faith. He just got an answering machine four years ago.”

“Wait . . . look
 
—a note,” I said, pointing to the table beside his bed.

Olivia rushed over like it might hop away. She snatched it up. “‘Be back soon.’”

“‘Be back soon’?”

“I’m going to kill him. He knows better than this.”

“Where would he be going? To look around the city? Without us?”

“Maybe he wants to gorge on local cuisine.”

I nodded. “That’s highly likely, actually.”

“So . . . what do we do?”

I smiled. “Let’s enjoy ourselves.”

57

T
HE LAST TIME
I’d been to Battery Park was when I’d brought Faith there after we’d first met. As a lifelong New Yorker, I had fun taking her to the various hot spots and a few off-the-map ones too. Though she’d lived here for years, she’d mostly kept to the places that she was familiar with. She’d not ventured much south of Juilliard, so we spent many weekends touring Manhattan and other parts of New York.

From where I stood, I could see the exact tree we’d sat under, just three weeks into our relationship, where we’d had a five-hour conversation that seemed like thirty minutes.

I took a deep breath, trying to shake the image, wondering if every memory would have her attached in some way for the rest of my life. I scanned the crowd, looking for a red jacket.

There, near the ferry and tour boat docks. My hands shook, so I stuck them in my pockets and walked forward.

The man had a presence, I’d give him that. Even with his back turned.

“Calvin?”

He turned, his face pleasant, stoic. His eyes held a calmness betrayed only by the fierceness a father has for his child.

“Luke.” He held out his hand, gave me a hearty shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” It was a heavy moment. I was stiff and awkward and making the kind of impression I hoped I wouldn’t.

“You too,” he said. A mild smile played over his lips, but his eyes scrutinized me. I let it be. A father should do that, I guessed. He relaxed a bit after sizing me up. “Thanks for coming here.”

“Of course.”

He looked out over the water. I watched him watch a boat for a moment. “Never been to the big city. Don’t care for it much, but I guess it’s okay to visit.” He pointed. “Never been on one of those tourist boats there.”

“You know what? Neither have I.”

He turned to me, grinning like a little boy. “Then let’s go.”

He insisted he pay, and I wasn’t sure what the custom should be. Being a Carraday, we usually paid for everything, but something told me I should let him, so I did. He pulled out a large, neat roll of cash and plucked two tens out. “I sure enjoy your food here,” he said as we walked aboard.
We found a bench near the front. As we sat, I noticed it was difficult for him, like he knew the getting-up part was going to be harder.

I overestimated the conversation, I guess, because it really didn’t start. Calvin was looking out over the water, seeming to enjoy the tour, as if he might’ve forgotten he called me and asked me to meet him here.

Apparently nobody told him that in New York, silence is practically a crime.

I cleared my throat. “When Faith and I were together, I used to think about having kids, and I’d always imagine having a little girl. And inevitably, I’d start thinking about her growing up to date guys and get married . . . and in the end, I’d work myself into a cold sweat with the fear that one day I’d be exactly where you are right now.”

Calvin didn’t even look at me. He seemed to be enjoying the peace of the water. “I didn’t come here to grill you.”

“I never touched another woman. Not last night. Or ever.”

“We don’t have to talk about that.” He was looking at his shoes, and I realized, suddenly, that I might’ve said too much. Or maybe not enough. I wasn’t sure, but Calvin was striking me as a man of few words.

I, however, had become the man who couldn’t stop babbling. “And the whole time I was with Michov, I had no idea they were breaking the law.”
Did he just smirk at me?
“I want you to know that.”
Stop talking, for the love of all things manly.

“You know something, Luke,” Calvin began after a long
and uncomfortable stretch of silence that I was now certain was intentional, “I don’t know you very well.”

That’s because I didn’t get to keep spilling my guts like a moron.

“But as I sit here listening to you, I can’t help but ask myself one question.”

Now I was watching the water, kind of wishing I could drown myself because this guy had a way of looking right into my soul.

“If you’re not responsible for anything, how can you be anything?”

I looked at him, forced myself to, and realized he wasn’t raking me over the coals. That quiet calm that seemed to stir my soul like wind stirs leaves was intended for my good. I was pretty sure this guy was actually rooting for me. Could it be he was cheering me on, after all I’d put his daughter through?

I marveled at it and must’ve been staring awkwardly at him because his eyes darted back to the water, and I noticed his thumbs rubbing his knuckles like the skin might be dirty.

“There’s something you should know,” he said, and I braced myself because those words are hardly ever followed by good news. “I didn’t come here for treatment on this cancer.”

“What?”

“I’ve had a good run, son, and I’m not going to let them poison me so I can hang on for an extra month or two.” He smiled. “I have someone waiting on me up there,” he said,
nodding toward the sky. “I miss her in a way that kept me unanchored to this earth for a very long time.”

“Then . . . why are you here?”

“Because my daughter has a husband, and when I’m gone, she’s going to need him.”

“I want to be there.”

He looked out toward the city, seemingly mulling his words like he wasn’t quite explaining it right or maybe I was just not getting it.

“You and Faith, you’re a couple of runners.”

I started to nod but wondered how he knew we used to run together. Then it struck me . . . he wasn’t talking about our athletic skills. He was talking about our propensity for hightailing it out of difficult situations.

“The two of you can’t become a family yourselves if you’re always running from the family you already have.”

That stung, in all the right places. “I’m sorry I didn’t go down to Carolina to meet you. I should’ve called you before we even got married.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m not your family. Faith is.”

“Just tell me where she is.”

“That time is going to come. But before that, you need to figure out why the music stopped and make sure it keeps playing no matter what kind of noise your life brings in.”

“I’m not sure I know what that means.”

“I know. Just let me know when you do.”

58

“H
I, IT’S ME.”

I paced the sidewalk outside the hotel, clinging to myself as I turned away from the snapping north wind.

The surprise in his voice delighted me. “Hi . . . hey, how are you?”

“I’ve been better. Needed to hear your voice.”

“How’s your dad?”

“You wouldn’t know he’s sick. We’re waiting for him to return from going out to the big city, I guess to do some sightseeing without the two of us.”

Lee laughed. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

I weighed my words. And my motivation. Was I running
to Lee to get back at Luke? Was I comforted, expecting Lee to take good care of my dad when he returned?

Here was a man who sent me on to find answers for myself, without regard for himself or his feelings. If only Luke could’ve been that sensitive.

“You there?”

“I’m here . . .” I pushed the image of Luke and Maria out of my head. “I found the answers I was looking for.”

“And?”

“It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but life throws a lot of curveballs.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ve got to focus on getting Dad better.”

“Don’t forget about yourself.”

I chuckled. “If I could just forget about myself, 90 percent of my problems would be solved.” I tried not to shiver and wasn’t sure it was even the wind. “When I get back there, Lee . . . it’ll be for good. I’m staying.”

He didn’t say anything, I knew out of respect for my situation, but I could practically hear him smiling through the phone.

“Thanks for letting me work out what I needed to work out.”

“Give yourself time to heal.”

“Dad’s brain and my heart. Throw in Olivia’s gallbladder and we’re a mess.”

Lee cracked up. “Glad to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor.”

I glanced up to see an old man getting out of a cab, then realized it was my father. My heart dropped at the sight. The cab driver looked worried as he opened the door and grabbed his hand.

“Lee, can I call you later? My dad’s back.”

“Sure.”

I hung up and hurried over. “Dad! What . . . how are . . . ?”

He waved me off as he glanced at the driver. “My daughter.”

“Here, take my hand.”

He grimaced, then scowled, then took my hand. I could feel his weight against me as we walked into the lobby. “Where have you been?” I asked.

“Took a ferry, saw the Statue of Liberty.”

“Good grief, Dad. You had us worried sick.”

“Didn’t you get my note?”

“Kind of vague.”

“Where’s your sister?” He let go of my hand when we got in the elevator and rested against the glass that gave a view of the small restaurant below.

“Upstairs about to have a cow.”

“Somehow I knew she’d show up.”

“And I’m glad she did. You’re a handful without the tumor. Your appointment is in less than an hour.”

Dad nodded. Had I not seen how sick he looked before? The dark bags under his eyes. The red rims that held them up. The sunken cheeks and the shaky hands. The whole sight broke my heart.

The elevator opened and three squirrelly kids forgot their manners and bounded in. Dad grinned at them as he walked out, unassisted. He seemed to gain a bit of strength as we made our way back to the room.

Inside, Olivia paused midstride in what looked like vicious pacing. “Dad! Where have you been?” Her eyes were wide with wonder, her tone strained with concern.

Dad walked over to the chair by the bed and sat, looking utterly exhausted. “Girls, sit down with me.”

“Dad, we’ve got to go. Your appointment
 
—”

I cut Olivia off. “Let’s let him rest for a few minutes.”

“We can’t be late for this. We barely got you in to see this doctor. The cab driver said it’d take about thirty minutes,
if
the traffic is good.”

“Girls. Sit.”

It was the tone he’d used since our birth to indicate we were to do what we were told. We both sat on the edge of the bed, our hands in our laps, our backs erect.

Dad took a long moment. Olivia was watching the clock, but I was watching Dad’s eyes. I could tell something wasn’t right.

Then he looked at us. “I’m going to break your hearts today.”

Beside me, I felt Olivia hold her breath. I slid my hand under hers.

“Daddy, what are you talking about?” Olivia asked.

“I’m not going to get the treatment.”

I looked at Olivia. Both our eyes watered. “But, Daddy,”
Olivia said, “we don’t even know what the treatment is yet. That’s why we’re here, to see what
 
—”

“That’s not why I’m here,” he said softly. He looked at me, then at Olivia, then at his hands. “I miss your momma.”

I put a hand over my mouth to keep the sobs in, because there is nothing like seeing your own daddy weep. The tears streaming down his cheeks were like knives cutting through me.

“I know it must sound crazy to you. You’re young, full of life, lots more life to live, but I’m okay with saying good-bye.”

“Daddy, no . . .” Olivia had dropped to her knees, right by his feet. “No, you can’t leave us.”

“I can,” he said, smiling through the tears. “The two of you will be okay. Now you have each other, and your families, and you’re going to be just fine. Both of you.” He looked squarely at me because he knew in my heart I was certain I would never be fine.

He took Olivia’s cheek into his hand, and then I slid to the floor, by his knee, and wept, too. He pulled his fingers through our hair. “Hey, now, I’m not dead yet. I have a few good months left in me.”

“It’s not fair,” Olivia said.

He smiled. “What? That I get to see Momma first?” His voice turned low and soothing. “I will always be with you, in your hearts. I promise. And we’ll see each other again.”

We laid our heads on his knees for a long time, and then Daddy, who always knew just what to say, lifted our heads. “Okay. Who’s up for one of those greasy vendor hot dogs?”

I laughed but ached terribly. I remembered something Momma told me when I was very young. A rose is beautiful, but when it is crushed, the fragrance bursts out of it and you discover beauty you never knew it had. Every chance I got, I’d take a rose, crush it under my foot, then get down on my belly and let its smell envelop me. I’d close my eyes, lay my head sideways on the cement, and just breathe.

Momma was trying to tell me something I wouldn’t understand for a long time. But she knew someday I would be crushed, and I am certain she hoped that I would remember the beauty in it.