Sunrise Point

  Tom had turned in his driver’s seat. His arm was rested on the top of the steering wheel; he balanced it on his wrist. The other arm was stretched out along the seat, toward her. He just stared at her for a long moment. Finally he said, “You’ve had a tough time.”

  She took a breath. “I wish I’d made better choices.”

  “You were young.”

  “I had girlfriends who were as young, but protected themselves much better.”

  “Yeah? I had friends who were better at lots of things than me. But I can grow a real pretty apple.” And then he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

  “I am very impressed with your apples,” she told him.

  “All those things you didn’t feel you had the best instincts for before? You’ll be so much better at that now,” he said.

  “I had a very sweet maternity nurse when Berry was born,” Nora said. “She was a grandmother, she said. And she felt so sorry for me that my mother wanted no part of Berry’s arrival—she wouldn’t have missed her daughter’s delivery for the world. And she said, ‘You will do so much better than that. You will.’ And when she put Berry into my arms she said, ‘Congratulations. This is your new best friend for life.’ So now it seems like more than one person I admire believes in me.”

  He just looked into her eyes, silent.

  “I should pick apples,” she said.

  He came out of his trance. “Right,” he said, putting his truck in gear.

  * * *

  She was so young, Tom thought, to have had to learn so much. And this worldly education in life had not only been achieved with complete lack of support, at least to this point, but with a couple of helpless little kids. And he’d already known she had a messy past, but the story she told only made it sound worse than he imagined.

  Throughout the day, while he tended the trees and crop, he thought about that, comparing her to himself. He was almost thirty and had just realized he was ready to settle on the orchard, take on a wife and family, and this decision that was both emotional and practical, had taken a lot of consideration. He hadn’t been even near ready two years ago and five years ago it was a possibility that terrified him. But he’d left the Marine Corps knowing that was the next stage of his life.

  And had come back to Virgin River? Where the hell did he think he was going to find a wife here? All the girls he thought were hot in high school were spoken for, as were most of the young women in his age range in the coastal towns. In fact, a lot of them had already been married and divorced with a kid or two. No, that wasn’t what he was looking for at all. The whole kid thing scared him enough without taking on someone else’s kids.

  He was so preoccupied that he was relieved when Junior told him that no extra hands were needed over the weekend. And when he gave Nora her ride home, she seemed cheerful when she jumped out of the truck. “Well,” she said, “I’m having a family reunion this weekend. Do you have any big plans?”

  “Nothing for me,” he said. But he thought maybe he should try to get out of town for a day, maybe a weekend. “Enjoy yourself. Pick you up Monday morning.”

  * * *

  Tom sat at the kitchen table in the house, cup of coffee in front of him and his laptop open to his schedule. But rather than scrolling or typing or figuring, he tapped his finger idly. A lot of what ran through his head was asking himself how Nora could be different enough so that she’d be more right for him. No kids, for one thing. No doper ex, for another. I mean a few beers, a joint, that was one thing—but hooked up to a guy who went to prison for felony possession? A little too far into the deep and dark underworld. Yeah. And then there was her youth. Twenty-three was young, but twenty-three and been around the block a few times? He didn’t expect a virgin, but for God’s sake.

  No one had seemed to notice his thoughtful mood.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Maxie said.

  He smirked and looked up at his grandmother. Except her, of course. He grumbled something about having things on his mind.

  “And cranky,” she said. “Trees talk back today?”

  “I know you think you’re very funny… .”

  “Maybe this will perk you up,” she said, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket. She unfolded it and tried to smooth it out. “A girl called you. She’d like you to call her.”

  His mouth dropped open. He wasn’t working on anything with any girl anywhere. He stared dumbly at his grandmother.

  “Well, it didn’t cheer you up but it did get your attention,” she said, handing him the paper.

  “Aw, this isn’t a girl, this is Darla—the woman who was married to Pritchard. Bob Pritchard, a guy from the Corps who was killed in Afghanistan. She’s the woman I stopped off to visit on my way home.” He ran a hand over his head. “God, I hope she’s all right… .”

  “She sounded just fine,” Maxie said. “Very happy, very friendly. She told me you’d said very nice things about me.”

  “But what does she want?” he asked.

  Maxie leaned toward him. “She’d like you to call her,” she repeated softly.

  He just stared at her.

  “I could leave the room,” she said, “But I can’t make dinner anywhere else, so why don’t you just go upstairs or out to the office.”

  He still sat there for a moment, looking up at a silver-haired grandmother who was much shorter and always seemed much taller. “Right,” he finally said, picking up his laptop and heading for the office in the barn. And on the way he thought, How do I expect to hook up with a woman when I’m so dense?

  And yet, he sat at the desk for a while before picking up the phone because the truth was, if Darla was in a place of grief and pain, he really didn’t feel up to it. He still had those moments over Pritchard that clouded his eyes and closed his throat. There had been about six marines trying to get him to the helicopter when he was holding on to life by a breath.

  That was a year ago. She might be lots better by now even if he wasn’t. So he dialed.

  “Tom!” she said excitedly.

  “How did you know it was me?”

  She laughed into the phone. “Caller ID, Tom. I assumed it was you and not your grandmother who was calling me. What a sweet woman, by the way.”

  “Sweet,” he said.

  “How have you been?”

  “Fine. Good. Well, at least reasonable. You?” he asked with trepidation.

  “Much better,” she said. “Much, much better than when you were here. I think seeing you and hearing about Bob and about the war and all that—I might’ve been a little emotional and maybe gave the impression I was going to be a wreck forever. Bob wouldn’t want that. I’m getting along very well, actually. In fact, I’m going to be in your part of the world—I’m taking a post-grad course at UC Davis, not all that far from your little town. I’ll be there for about eight weeks.”

  “Post-grad?”

  “A pharmacy course. It’s full-time and I’ll have studying to do, but I don’t have labs or classes on weekends and I figured while you’re picking apples, I could get a little reading done. That is, if you feel like getting together. I don’t want to impose.”

  “That’s right,” he said. “You’re into pharmaceuticals.”

  She laughed. “In a good way. I have a town house lined up—my company has been sending sales reps through this course for years and has a lease on a town house I hear is nice. I’ll be going back to Denver when the course is over, of course. But, I’ll be there next week and don’t have much going on. Want to come down? There are some nice restaurants around there.”

  “Aw, we’re picking apples, Darla.”

  “Well, gee. I knew that—I searched apple harvest in Humboldt County on Google. I could always come to see you. I’m sure there’s a motel nearby… .”

  Yeah, he thought, I’m going to get right on the list of smoothest bachelors in the U.S. “Darla—we have more room than we need and Maxie
loves having company. Just let us know when you’ll be here. It’s not fancy, but it’s homey. We don’t have a lot of restaurants, however. No nightlife here at all, in fact, but there are some really good views and the apple pie is top-notch.”

  She laughed, a very musical sound, a very happy sound. No, he decided, she wasn’t coming to Virgin River to grieve and cry. She was coming to visit a friend. And Darla might be widowed, but widowed from one of the best guys he knew. And there hadn’t been kids yet. And she was older—twenty-eight or so. Smart, pretty, self-sufficient.

  “I love apple pie,” she said.

  “Do you like mountain vistas? Ocean views? Redwoods?” he asked, finding himself getting a little excited.

  “I’ve never seen the redwoods.”

  “Well, if you can get away from the books for a few hours, I know where they are,” he told her.

  “I know it’s your busy season… .”

  “I take a day off now and then. When can you be here?”

  “I’ll get to California next week. I want to unpack a few things, check my class schedule and then I might be able to head up there on Friday. It’s not too far. A few hours, right?”

  “Right. And cell phone reception is spotty, so don’t count on it, especially in the taller trees and mountains.”

  “Tom,” she said, kind of seriously. “I emailed you. About three times. You didn’t answer. I was a little afraid to call… .”

  “Aw, damn, I’m so bad about that. Darla, hardly anyone emails me and it’s all junk. I’m sorry. I haven’t looked lately.”

  “But don’t you do business online?”

  He laughed. “We’ve been doing business with the same people for years. We drive the truck into town, to the stores, unload the apples and hand over a paper invoice. Maxie is on the computer more than I am.”

  “Well, that’s a relief. I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”

  “Not a chance. This is one of the nicest surprises I’ve had in months.”

  * * *

  Since Nora had been talking to Jed for a couple of weeks, exchanging the occasional email as well, she was comfortable that she was getting to know him and like him. But still, his first visit to her humble home was a little nerve-racking. Her phone rang at noon and he said, “Hi. I know we said afternoon and it’s about one minute after, but I’m in the area. When can I come over? I don’t want to intrude. I really hope to be invited back.”

  She smiled to herself; that was kind of cute. And that rising fear reared its ugly head—Please don’t let this all be false. Please, please let it be true.

  “You can come now,” she said. “The girls are bathed, dressed and fed.”

  “Nuts,” he said. “I was going to offer to pick up lunch.”

  “Not necessary, but have you eaten? Because I have a bunch of apples, apple butter, bread, but not the kind of food a man might be looking for.”

  “I had a late and very large breakfast. I’m completely satisfied.”

  “Then come. Oh, and Jed… As I mentioned before, Berry is very shy. Step softly.”

  “Of course. See you shortly.”

  And shortly it was—he must have phoned from just out of town. Fifteen minutes later, he was at the door. And he was bearing gifts—he held a bag from a toy store. “Oh, my,” she said. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but oh, my!”

  “I couldn’t stop myself,” he said with a sheepish smile. “The truth is, I didn’t even try.”

  Jed stood in the open doorway holding his big bag. Fay had been standing beside the couch but upon seeing company, she dropped to a sit and then rapidly crawled toward him. Nora swept Fay up before she flew right out the front door. Berry, on the other hand, shrank back behind the couch, just peeking at him.

  “May I come in?” he asked.

  “Oh,” she said. “Right.” And she held open the door for him.

  He didn’t say anything at all, but moving slowly and smiling gently, he got down on the floor with his bag and started removing toys. They were all new, something Nora had not been able to provide for her kids. They had some perfectly good toys, a whole plastic laundry basket full, but these were so much better. There was a spire that played music when the brightly colored plastic hoops were stacked on it. There was a toy that mimicked the animal noises. A cow says moooo… . Another toy had an arrow that pointed to a number or a letter—and this one spoke in either Spanish or English. And there were several books.

  Nora sat at their small table and watched. Fay was struggling to get down off her lap.

  “Let her come, Nora, it’s okay—these are all safe for a one-year-old. I double-checked.” Then he lifted his eyes to Berry. “These are for you and Fay, Berry,” he said calmly, softly. “You can keep them and play with them.” He lifted a book. “When you feel like it, we’ll read a story.”

  “It’s okay, Berry,” Nora said. “This is your…” She didn’t finish.

  “Say grandpa, Nora. Then whatever they want to call me, that’s it. My friend, Susan, who is a grandmother, her grands call me Papa.”

  “Berry doesn’t talk very much,” Nora said. “She’s so shy.”

  “Nothing wrong with being cautious,” he said easily. “I’m shy, too.”

  “You are, aren’t you? I think I remember that about you!”

  “It was always easier for me to read and write than to interact. Probably how I ended up on the faculty. I can lecture because it’s prepared. I can write a great paper and defend it. I can talk to students about their work, their grades, their schedules. But when they bring me personal issues, I freeze. I’m determined to do better with you. And your children.” He pulled out something else, a mesh bag of large, beautifully colored plastic blocks with letters on them. For now, Berry could stack them; eventually she could line them up and make words. He unfolded a very small play stroller, added a little doll and a doll-size diaper bag.

  Fay was immediately drawn to the bright colors and Jed showed her how to make them tinkle and sing and talk.

  “How did you get up here so fast?” Nora asked. “What time did you leave this morning?”

  “I came last evening. I stayed over in a motel in Fortuna. I didn’t want to waste a minute.” Then with a slight flush he said, “There’s more, Nora.”

  “More what?”

  “Things for the girls.”

  “Oh, Jed, that wasn’t necessary. I don’t want them to think that every time they see you there will be presents.”

  “I thought of that. I left everything in bags. You can put them away in a closet and when the girls are asleep, take them out and look at them, give them things when I’m not here so they don’t think, you know…”

  “Think what?”

  “That I’m Santa Claus or something. But it was such an experience, like I’ve never had before. When Susan’s grandchildren came, I went shopping with her and she was a crazy fool—throwing things in carts, literally losing her mind! I thought she’d gone mad.” He shrugged. “Then I suddenly had grandchildren and… Lord, I couldn’t stop myself. Don’t think she didn’t get the biggest kick out of it.”

  “Susan?” she asked.

  “Haven’t I mentioned her before today? She’s a professor, but I met her fifteen years ago when she was a student. Not my student, but an older woman, finishing her degree once her children were nearly raised. Younger than I.”

  “And she’s your girlfriend?”

  He gave a nod and another slight blush. “I guess you could say. A few years after my divorce, ten years after hers, we began seeing each other. She’s more a close friend than anything. We don’t live together, we’re not engaged. I’d like you to meet her. She’s nice.” Jed pulled a large, glossy book out of his bag and held it up so that Berry could see. “Princess stories,” he said. “Susan’s granddaughters love them. They’re princesses every Halloween.”

  Berry came slowly forward, chewing on a finger. Th
e brightly colored princesses on the cover got her. He let her take the book out of his hand and she immediately backed toward Nora. Leaning against her mother’s legs, she opened the beautiful book.

  And Nora’s eyes clouded with tears. She sniffed.

  Jed looked at her. “Are you crying?” he asked.

  She shook her head, but she pursed her lips together tightly, not trusting herself to speak.

  “What’s the matter, honey?” he asked.

  That brought the tears, calling her honey. “I don’t know,” she said. “Grateful, maybe. Embarrassed that I didn’t amount to more. That I couldn’t give my kids more. I don’t know what you must think of me.”

  He was still on the floor, but he sat up a bit taller. “I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he said. “When I think about…” He just shook his head.

  She wiped away tears with her fingers and pulled Berry onto her lap. “When you think about what?” she asked.

  He had trouble meeting her eyes. He took a deep breath. “If I had approached you at fifteen or sixteen, told you where I was and that I’d do whatever I could to help if you needed me, if I’d done that, things would have been so different. But I didn’t.”

  “Why?” she said in a breath.

  He shook his head again. “I thought it was for you. But maybe it was for me. Maybe it was easier to avoid the possibility of any conflict—I’m guilty of that. I learned that about myself, that I’m too passive. If I had known she would do what she—that she would throw you out… My God. Please, you must not blame yourself.”

  Nora looked at his sad eyes and thought, I’m not sure. He could be lying to me and I wouldn’t know the difference. “We have a long way to go, you and I.”

  “A long way, yes, you’re right about that. And part of that has to involve coming to terms with how your mother was. Nora, we can spend a lot of time talking about how much pain she caused us. We could work that like a hangnail for a lot of years, you and I. But at some point we have to let some things go. For my part, I broke her heart. I hurt her. She obviously felt abandoned, robbed, cheated. Abused. I spent years feeling the hurt she caused me by keeping you from me, but certainly she must have felt deep hurt, as well.” He shook his head. “Who knows what that can do to a person?”