Second Chance Pass (15 page)

“What if I’m involved with him?”

“This isn’t Matt we’re talking about,” Paul said. “I’m not going to bow out quietly. I’ll do whatever I have to do. I’ll fight for you.”

“And if we made love all weekend? Me and Cameron?”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but that you have to know the truth. I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you—and being in love with my best friend’s wife was torture.”

“What if I asked you to walk away from that situation in Grants Pass if you want a chance with me? What if I said I couldn’t deal with that?”

He hung his head. “Vanessa, you know I can’t. I’d never abandon a child like that. If there’s a price to pay, I’ll pay it—but not an innocent child.”

“This isn’t happening,” she said, shaking her head.

“Here’s what’s happening,” Paul said. “I love you. I think you must have feelings for me or you wouldn’t be so angry. There’s at least one child between us, maybe two. What we have to do is—”

“Vanni!”

They jumped apart at the sound of Walt’s voice yelling from the deck. Just the tone of her father’s shout sent a chill up her spine. She pushed Paul out of her way, thinking something might’ve happened to the baby. She ran across the yard and up the small hill to the deck, Paul close on her heels. But Walt stayed on the deck and if anything had been wrong with the baby, he’d have been inside. When Vanessa got up to her father he said, “It’s Aunt Midge. She passed. We have to go. You’ll have to pack up the baby again. Tom’s getting his things together then he can help you.”

And with that, Walt turned and went back into the house.

Vanni was frozen for a moment. She shot a look at Paul and he reached for her hand.

“Vanni, I’m sorry,” he said. “What can I do?”

She just shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do, Paul, except go quickly so we can get on the road…”

“Vanni, tell me you understand what I told you. I can’t leave anything in doubt now.”

She looked down for a moment. Then she raised her eyes and locked into his. “Paul, listen to me. There’s a woman in Grants Pass who’s having your baby. I want you to go home. Go home to her. Try, Paul. If there was something about her that appealed to you enough to make a baby with her, maybe you can make a life with her….”

“No, Vanni, that’s not—”

“Try, Paul. Try to fall in love with your child’s mother. If you don’t at least try, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

“You don’t understand. You didn’t hear what I said…”

“My aunt just died and I have to go,” she said. “Do what you have to do, Paul.”

W
alt was sixty-two, but his only sibling, his sister Midge, was all of forty-four. She’d gotten pregnant at eighteen, had a six-month marriage to the father of her child and then lived her entire adult life as a single mother with her daughter. Shelby had just barely turned twenty-five. When Shelby was still in high school Midge had been diagnosed with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease. It had been Shelby and Midge all along, so it was no surprise that Shelby ended up as a caregiver when the disease progressed.

For the first couple of years of Midge’s illness, Shelby was able to either go to school or work part-time in addition to helping her mother, but it wasn’t long before Midge was a full-time job. The disease had been in its final stages for a couple of years, and while Midge had been ready to go, Shelby hung on. She’d told her uncle Walt many times she couldn’t say goodbye to her mother unless she believed she’d done everything she could to make every day count.

The tragedy or blessing of Lou Gehrig’s is that the body withers and fails while the mind remains alert and functional—Shelby and Midge chose to see this as a great
blessing, for their time together had rich, sentimental moments. Midge had gone into a wheelchair four years ago, finally into a hospital bed two years ago, and soon after she was completely paralyzed. Shelby got a little help from her uncle who visited almost every week once he had retired. There was a home-nursing service, and then hospice.

They were in Bodega Bay and Walt had been prepared to move there after his retirement from the Army, but it was Midge who urged him to look further. She knew she wouldn’t last long and she didn’t want her brother to establish a retirement home based on her location. In fact, Walt had retired less than a year before her death and even that had been longer than any of them had predicted for Midge.

The drive from Virgin River to Bodega Bay was about four hours. Tom was dozing in the backseat of the SUV with the baby while Vanni sat up front with Walt. They’d made many such visits—most often Walt went alone, sometimes with Tom, sometimes with a pregnant Vanni—but now they were all going to say a final goodbye. Mike Valenzuela had offered to take care of the horses for them while they were gone.

Vanni said nothing as they drove, but stared out the window.

“I never even had a chance to ask you how your getaway with the doctor went,” Walt said. “With Paul waiting so apprehensively for the same reason, and all…”

“It was fine,” she said. “I was just thinking, I never got down there with the baby to see her—and I should have made that trip the first one. Before Carol and Lance. Midge was on borrowed time….”

“Don’t kick yourself about that,” Walt said. “The household of an invalid is complicated. We talked about it—it would’ve been hard on Midge and Mattie, not to mention Shelby. Midge understood, believe me. And
Matt’s parents had a priority there. They lost their son—it was good that we went.”

“Instead of going to Mendocino, I should have gone to Bodega,” Vanni said.

“Vanni, Midge would rather you have had a nice weekend—she was at peace with her destiny. That’s the one thing that gives me comfort. She was ready. She wasn’t holding out for anything.”

“Shelby will need help now, won’t she?” Vanni asked.

“Shelby has her own ideas. We’ve been over this many times. She wants to sit tight for a while, continue with her ALS support group and get her bearings. Caregivers have huge adjustments after the end—she wants to figure things out before she makes a big change. I think that’s smart. After all, she was only a young girl when this all started, she hasn’t had an adult life at all, at least not the usual kind. The house is hers now, and she’ll either sell it or keep it, but it needs a lot of work and I’ll help with that. At twenty-five, it’s finally time for her to start her life.” Then he took a deep breath. “Midge wasn’t in pain. Emotional pain, yes—she felt she was a burden. My little Midge—she didn’t have it easy.”

“Daddy, are you okay?” Vanni asked.

“Honey, I’m relieved. She was leaving us so slowly. At last she has her reward. At last…she can walk and laugh again…”

Shelby had been born in the small house that had been her widowed grandmother’s and she had lived there all her life. Her father had never showed his face during her entire childhood and there were no support payments of any kind—but her uncle Walt had always been there for them. When her grandmother died, Walt refused any of the insurance benefit and took over the house payments. In
addition to that, since Shelby had no male role model in her life, she spent summers with her uncle’s family where she learned to ride, shoot skeet, and had what passed for siblings with her cousins, even during Walt’s Army tours abroad. Shelby had lived summers in Germany and Denmark with the Booths. Because of the Booth family, Shelby’s childhood had been rich with family.

The life of a caregiver is a hard one, emotionally draining and physically exhausting. Shelby couldn’t have done otherwise—her mother was her best friend. So when the Lou Gehrig’s began to get bad, although Shelby was very young, her life went on hold to care for her. But hers was not a lonely life by any means—the support system for families with life-limited members was a strong one. They helped each other in every possible way and formed incredibly strong friendships. The evidence of this was obvious at Midge’s memorial—nearly a hundred people turned out for a woman who hadn’t left her bed in over two years. They were clearly there for Shelby.

Midge had been cremated. She had not wanted to take that wasted body into eternity. The house had become run-down during her illness and neither an open house nor a reception was possible; the living room had held the hospital bed and support equipment needed for her care, all of which had been quickly swept away within a day of her passing. Midge’s wishes had been spelled out very clearly—no fuss, just kind words and friendship—but Walt and Shelby had made arrangements with a funeral parlor months preceding her departure and secured a room that was bright and spacious, and refreshments were catered in. There were a few tasteful arrangements of flowers and one large, gorgeous spray sent by Paul Haggerty.

Walt and his family arrived Sunday night and by Wed
nesday all the farewells had been said to Midge. He wanted Shelby to pack up and come home to Virgin River with them, but she wouldn’t. “I have things to do,” she said. “Important things. Not only does this house need a lot of work—most of which I can do myself—but I have a big transition to make. I’m staying with my support group until I’ve had a chance to adjust to the change. And,” she said, “I’m not sure I want to leave Bodega Bay. I’ve been here all my life.”

“What would you like to do now?” Vanni asked her.

“That’s part of the transition,” Shelby said. “I don’t know yet. People in my group have talked about trying to make changes too fast—it can be devastating. I’m not going to let myself fall into that trap.”

So Walt went about the business of helping Shelby make a list of repairs and renovations that should be done to make the house presentable again. It was paid off now, so Shelby could do with it as she pleased. Shelby’s list contained mostly cosmetic items from cleaning and painting, to tearing out old window coverings to replace with new ones. Walt’s list was a little more industrial—he thought it was time for new doors and frames, windows and baseboards, not to mention new plumbing fixtures and updated appliances. After all, this had been his mother’s home. He felt a responsibility to it, he always had. He would personally contract most of this work to be done for Shelby.

Shelby herself needed some remodeling. Even though her caregiving job had been very physical, she hadn’t been getting the right kind of exercise and had gained weight. Her complexion was pale and blemished, and she hadn’t bothered with makeup in years. Her hair had grown long—she’d never had it cut—and she wound a single honey-colored braid around her head to keep it out of the way. Shelby had plans for some personal changes, but she didn’t
discuss any of that with her family because she wasn’t sure where to begin. And she wasn’t sure it was even possible.

The Booths left on Friday to make the drive back to Virgin River, though leaving Shelby was hard. But she was adamant—she needed the time to grieve, to be alone, to figure out how to have a life that wasn’t consumed by a loved one’s illness.

They were about halfway home, Tom nodding off beside the baby in the backseat while Vanni sat up front, staring out the window. “It was a sad week in many ways,” Walt said. “But it’s also the end of a sad time. I’d worry more about Shelby being on her own if she hadn’t shouldered so much responsibility by herself for the past few years.”

“She has many wonderful friends,” Vanni added.

“Are you all right, Vanni?” he asked.

“Hmm, just a little melancholy, that’s all.”

“It’s hard to tell what’s bothering you most—Midge’s passing or some problem you’re having with Paul.” She turned to look at him and he said, “Anything you want to talk about?”

She shrugged. “There’s not too much to talk about, Dad.”

“You could help me understand a couple of things, you know.”

“For instance?”

“Oh, don’t be coy—you stood Paul up to go away with the doctor and if I know anything about you, you’re not that interested in the doctor. Hell, you’ve been in a strange mood since Paul left after Mattie was born. You knew Paul was coming for the weekend—and despite his best efforts to be circumspect, you knew he was coming for you.”

“I wasn’t so sure about that.”

“I heard you fight with him, Vanni. Did you and Paul have some kind of falling-out?”

“Not exactly, Dad.”

Walt took a breath. “Vanessa, I don’t mean to pry, but it’s pretty apparent to me how you feel about Paul. And how Paul feels about you. And yet…”

“Dad, while Paul was here last autumn, we got a lot closer. We were good friends before, but of course with all we went through together… Dad, before all that happened, Paul had a life in Grants Pass. One that’s not so easily left behind.”

“Vanni, Paul loves you, but something happened between you recently…”

“He let me know—there are complications in Grants Pass. Something he’s been struggling with. It’s kept him from being honest about his feelings,” she said. “He has commitments, Dad.”

“A woman?” Walt asked.

Vanni laughed softly. “We shouldn’t be so surprised that Paul actually had women in his life, should we? Yes, apparently there was a woman.
Is
a woman…”

“Jesus,” Walt said under his breath. “He’s not married, is he?”

“Of course not. He wouldn’t keep something like that from us.”

“Engaged?”

“He says there’s enough of an entanglement there to make his position difficult. That’s why he wasn’t around after Mattie was born.”

Walt drove in silence for a while and Vanni resumed gazing out the window. After a few moments of silence Walt asked, “What about you, Vanni? I know you care about him.”

“Dad, Matt’s only been gone a few months. Should I even have such feelings? Should I be completely embarrassed? I’ll miss him forever, but I—”

“Please don’t do that to yourself, honey,” he said. “Haven’t we learned by now? Life is too short to suffer needlessly.”

“Will people say I—”

“I don’t give a good goddamn what people say,” he growled. “Everyone is entitled to a little happiness, wherever that is. And I think for you, it’s with Paul.”

She sighed and said, “I’m asking myself why I thought I had some claim on him. He was very good to us all, I’m so grateful—but why didn’t I realize that a man like Paul wouldn’t have any trouble attracting the attention—the love—of a woman? I’ve been so angry with him for not telling me, but… Why didn’t I
ask?
”

“Now what, Vanni? Is he trying to make a choice, is that it?”

“We were having a discussion, not a very pleasant one, right when the call came from Shelby. It left his intentions up in the air a bit. But there’s one thing I won’t do, I can’t do—I can’t ask Paul to choose me over a woman he has an obligation to. I tried to make it very clear, his duty to me as his best friend’s widow has expired. He doesn’t have to take care of me anymore.”

“I have a feeling it’s more than duty,” Walt said. “I have a feeling it always has been…”

“He has to do the right thing,” she said. “I’m not getting in the way of that. A man like Paul—he could regret the wrong decision for the rest of his life. And frankly, I don’t want to be the one left to live with his regret.”

“Oh, boy. You two have some talking to do.”

“No. Paul has business to take care of. I have nothing more to say about this.”

Paul arrived in Virgin River about midafternoon on Saturday. He left his duffel in the truck, allowing for the possibility he wasn’t welcome at the Booths’. He hadn’t talked to Vanni since the Sunday before—she’d been busy with the family in Bodega Bay. Besides, the conversation they needed to have wasn’t for the telephone. But the way things had ended between them caused him to hit a wall. He couldn’t let her get away again, or he’d never be the same. She could push him back, be angry about his screwup, but he was going to keep coming at her until he had her attention. She was going to have to tell him, convincingly, that she didn’t love him, and didn’t want him in her life. That was the only way he’d let go. And he was done tiptoeing around the issue.

He was greatly relieved to note the doctor’s car was not parked outside the general’s house. Tom opened the door for him. “Is Vanni here?”

“She just went for a ride. She’ll be back in about an hour. Two at the outside.”

“Mind if I wait around?” Paul asked.

“Of course not,” Tom said. “You look all stirred up.”

“I just need to talk to her, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know. Good luck with that. She hasn’t been in a real talkative mood. Coffee?”

“Thanks,” Paul said. “I’ll get it.”

So, they knew, he thought. No surprise there—she was all worked up and angry when they parted a week ago. And she was close to her brother and father; she wouldn’t hesitate to talk with them about her problems. Their problems.