Memories (22 page)

 Dani's heart pounded. "Vanessa? What happened to Vanessa?"

 "Oh, I thought you knew," Cathy sounded surprised. "But of course, you wouldn't know. I'm sorry. Everything was kept pretty quiet."

 "What happened?" Dani persisted.

 Cathy sighed. "Vanessa and Matthew were in a car accident last fall. Matthew died instantly, but Vanessa was in the hospital in a coma for three months. She died right before Christmas."

 "Oh my God," Dani breathed into the receiver. "What about Michelle, was she with them?" She silently prayed not.

 "No, she wasn't. She's doing okay. She's still young enough she seems to handle everything fine, which is more than I can say about Michael. He sat by Vanessa's side the entire time. He was there when she died. It was all so heartbreaking."

 "Oh poor Miguel," Dani whispered. "Vanessa was everything to him," she said a little louder. "How is he doing now?" She had visions of him giving everything up. He loved Vanessa so much. She was his entire life.

 "He's coping. He knows he has to for Michelle's sake. He started going to meetings with other Vietnam Vets while Vanessa was still in the hospital and that has helped him a lot. But he's still very…" she hesitated, searching for the right word, "withdrawn. Like he's just moving through life, but not really there. It's all so sad."

 Dani slumped a little in her chair, overwhelmed by the information Cathy had just relayed to her. In her mind she could picture the little red-headed girl running ahead of her on the California beach, jumping waves and full of life. Now, that same little girl, the beautiful woman she had become, was gone forever.

 "Dani, are you okay?" Cathy's voice echoed concern over the line. "I know you were close to Vanessa once. I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you all this. Dani...?"

 "I'm okay," she answered quietly. "It's just such a shock." She was quiet another moment, then asked. "When did the accident happen?"

 "Labor Day weekend," Cathy replied. "That's why Michael left here and went to New York. He's been there ever since."

 Dani lost all focus on the conversation after that. When she finally hung up the phone, she sat very quiet at her desk. So that was why he left. It had nothing to do with her; it was because of what happened to Vanessa. And all this time she had been selfishly thinking of only herself.

 "Are you okay?" Traycee came around to the front of Dani's desk, concerned by her sudden pallor. "Dani?"

 Dani looked up slowly into her co-worker's questioning eyes. "No, actually I'm not okay." She stood slowly, every movement feeling dreamlike. "Will you take my calls for the rest of the day? I think I need to go home."

 "Sure, I'll be glad to. Anything else I can do for you?"

 Dani just shook her head. "No. I just need to go home." She stood and took her coat from the rack, slipping it on, leaving her desk as it was, not even bothering to close the notebook she'd been working in. "Thanks, Traycee."

 "Sure thing, Dani. Take care of yourself, okay?"

 Dani nodded as she walked past the row of desks to the elevator.

 While driving home, Dani's thoughts were tuned to Miguel. Why had he chosen to go through all this alone when he knew she would have dropped everything to be there with him? After what they had shared that weekend, had it meant nothing? Then she remembered that he had tried to call her. When was it? Last month? The month before? He had tried to reach out to her and she had pushed him away.

 By the time she reached her apartment Dani knew what she had to do. She had to let Miguel know how sorry she was, for everything. But she couldn't call him. Not after all this time. So she sat quietly at her kitchen table and tried to put into words everything she was feeling as best she could, addressing the letter to Miguel DeCara.

Chapter Twenty-Six

 "My old lady and I are planning another trip to Nam next year," Joe told the vets group one Thursday evening in February. "We plan on staying there two or three months. There's a vet there I know who has helped open an orphanage and we want to help out there awhile."

 "Now that Washington has opened up diplomatic relations with Vietnam," Dr. Cox broke in, "It will make traveling there much easier."

 Joe snorted. "I have mixed feelings on that one," he said. "But anyway, I was thinking that if any of you might want to go, too, we could maybe arrange a group travel trip. It cuts down on the cost." He looked pointedly at Michael who, up to that point, had only been listening to the conversation that evening. "What about you, DeCara. You think you might be interested in going back?"

 Michael looked at the legless man dressed eternally in black to his left. His tone implied more of a challenge than a question.

 "I haven't really thought about it," Michael told him. "I don't understand the point of going back. I'd like to forget all about Nam, not add more to the memories."

 "Going back there is a way of facing the demons instead of running away from them," Kevin offered. "It helps you see Vietnam as the country that it is, not as the war we remember."

 "Yeah, I've been back once and I wouldn't mind going again," Wayne Garrison added. "I went to the spot that my plane was shot down, even found some small pieces of wreckage still there. It helped me put into perspective what really happened, instead of believing the nightmares I kept having."

 "It's sort of like the feeling you get when you visit The Wall," Wayne added. "You see the name of a buddy who was killed and you can finally say to yourself 'Yeah, it was real and my friends didn't die for nothing.' The effect is kind of...calming, a relief."

 "You have been to The Wall, haven't you?" Joe challenged Michael, referring to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall in Washington, DC. Holding in his anger at Joe's relentless probing, Michael only shook his head no.

 "God, man," Joe spouted, shaking his head in disbelief. "You been hiding under a rock or something? No wonder you can't shake those nightmares!"

 Michael's eyes narrowed at Joe. "What's the point of re-living pain? What good will it do me to go somewhere that I know will tear me apart?" he asked, his voice filled with anger.

 Kevin interceded again. "Tears help wash away the pain. I'm sure you can relate that to having gone through all the cards and letters after Vanessa's death. It hurts to read them, but it helps to ease the grief."

 Michael lowered his eyes to the floor, his anger abated. It had been two months since Vanessa's death and he hadn't yet touched the stack of sympathy cards that sat on the hall table. Just like Vietnam, he wanted to forget that part of his life ever happened. Yet, the harder he pushed it away, the stronger the memories came.

 "Think about the trip to Nam," Joe said quietly to Michael. "And go to The Wall. I'm sure there's a friend or two there that have been waiting for you."

 As the weekend settled in, Michael couldn't shake Joe's words from his mind. As much as he disliked the man's coarse attitude, he had to admit that his observations were usually correct. How many times had he felt guilty for not visiting Billy's name at The Wall? Had anyone ever made the pilgrimage to see it? Yet, he didn't want to go face the reflecting black stone of names alone. Who could he possibly go to such a place with?

 Sitting in front of the living room fireplace that crackled warmth against the mid-February chill outdoors, Michael's gaze turned and met with the stack of cards and letters on the table in the hall beyond. He was all alone with no where to go and nothing to do. Michelle was upstairs taking a nap, the weather was too cold to go anywhere and he didn't even have any work to finish on his desk. There were no excuses.

 Slowly, he got up and walked to the pile bidding to him. He picked up the stack and went down the hall to his office, placing the cards on his desk. After staring another full minute at them, he finally walked around the desk, sat, and began opening the cards one at a time.

 The late afternoon sun tried at intervals to spill into the room between clouds that were blocking its way. Michael paid no attention to its efforts as he opened one card after another. It was hard. Friends, acquaintances and business associates all letting him know how sorry they were for his loss. Some recounted a memorable incident that they would never forget while others only scrawled a name under a pre-printed verse. Michael's own memory was jolted several times from the writings in the letters and tears spilled from his eyes as he remembered.

 A quarter of the way through the pile he stopped, wondering how many more he could endure for the day. But as he stared past the cards and out the window to the gray ocean beyond, he realized that reading the cards was helping him. They reminded him of people and events that he had forgotten, and of all the people who had been touched by his daughter's short life. Kevin was right. Pain was helping to heal.

 As he contemplated going through more cards, one envelope in front of him caught his eye. It was addressed to Miguel DeCara. No one called him Miguel anymore, except...quickly he opened the envelope and read the script on the card enclosed.

Dear Miguel,

 I am so sorry about the loss of your beloved Vanessa. I have just heard and the shock is still strong. Of all the people who know you, I might be the only one who understands just how much you loved your daughter and how much you will miss her.

I wish I could say or do something that would ease your grief, but I know that there aren't enough words to do so. All I can do is let you know that I will always remember the smiling face of the beautiful, red-headed girl as she jumped waves on the California beaches, and the beauty of the woman she had become. She will be forever in my thoughts.

Take care of that lovely daughter she left behind. I know that you will give her all the love and care she needs, as you did her mother.

My heart is with you.

Dani

 Staring at the card in front of him, Michael read and re-read it several times until it finally sank in. Dani. She had written to him to try to ease his pain, just as she had always eased his pain from the nightmares that haunted him. Once again, she was there for him. He wondered how long her letter had been waiting for him and looked at the postmark on the envelope. January 15th. The card had been sitting here over a month and he hadn't even known it. She had reached out to him again, like that night months ago when she had given him her outstretched hand and led him into her bedroom.

 Did he dare reach back? Would she give him one last chance?

 Reverently he pulled his wallet from his back pocket and slipped out the piece of paper that held her phone number. Giving himself no time to think, no time to reconsider, he dialed the number.

 The phone rang twice before her familiar voice touched the line. "Hello."

 "Hello, Dani."

 Dani recognized his voice immediately. "Miguel. How are you doing?" she asked softly.

 "Better, now that I'm talking to you."

 There was silence on the other end so Michael kept on talking. "I just opened the letter you sent me about Vanessa. Thank you for writing it. For caring enough to write. It really has helped."

 "I'm so sorry, Miguel, I only wish...," her voice faltered. "I wish I had been able to share more in her life," she finished softly.

 The catch in her voice made his insides twist into knots. "Dani, I was wondering, well, I mean," he stumbled over his words like a nervous teenager. "Would you come out and see me? Your summer buying trips must be coming up, and, well, I thought if you were going to be out here sometime soon, maybe you could take a few extra days off and spend some time here at the house."

 "Oh, Miguel, I, I don't..."

 "You'll be out here anyway, won't you? The summer coat showing is the first week of March," he persisted.

 "I'm not in charge of coats anymore."

 "Oh. But you'll be coming out for your other departments, won't you?"

 "Well, yes, but...,"

 "Please Dani, please," he interrupted. "Just a couple of days. That's all I'm asking." He sounded desperate, but he didn't care. He suddenly realized that he needed to see her, even if it was the last time. "Please, I really need to see you."

 The line was silent for several moments as Dani wrestled with her thoughts. Finally, she decided to give in. "Okay. I'll let you know when I'll be able to come."

 "Thank you, Dani," he said, relieved.

 "But Miguel," she continued. "Please don't expect too much from me, okay?"

 "Okay," he agreed before saying goodbye and replacing the receiver. "Don't worry, Dani," he said quietly to himself. "This time I'll be the one to do the giving."

Chapter Twenty-Seven

 The office was silent except for the hum of the florescent lights above and the laptop computer sitting on Dani's desk. It was a little past seven in the evening on a Monday night and she was the only one left in the office, except for Carl Trindell who was sitting in his office with his door partly ajar.