David stared at me, unblinking. “What are we going to do when you’re not here to settle her? What is she going to do? I see the future and it’s not good, Jenny. Don’t leave us here with a little girl who’s afraid of us.” He buried his face in his hands.
My soul screamed from within me that this was wrong. I was supposed to be with Craig. Hadn’t David taken enough from me? I had wasted my entire youth loving him. He was inheriting my only child, for crying out loud. Now he swirled the last drops of my life in his snifter and wanted permission to swallow it down?
“I’ve got cancer. I’m dying. I’ve just been proposed to by a man I adore and have a chance to live out my last weeks with him, and you’re asking me to give that up? Is that fair?”
David’s face blotched with red. “You want to talk about fair? If you hadn’t kept my daughter a secret all these years, she wouldn’t be afraid of me. She should be as comfortable with me as she is with you. I wouldn’t have to come to you, begging for a little mercy. You owe me this. You owe her!”
“Why are you yelling, Daddy?” Isabella stood in the doorway, rubbing sleep from her face and holding her koala by the ear.
I saw the weight of the world reflected in her tired eyes and knew we had managed to fail her again. “We were just talking, sweetness. Sorry if we woke you.”
Her expression made it clear that she didn’t believe me for a second. She hugged Cocoa to her chest. “Mommy, can we go home now?”
Chapter Thirty-five
As I came to the pine tree that marked the beginning of the woods, Isabella bounded to my side like metal to magnet. “You left me!”
“I thought you were picking apples with Cowpa,” I said.
She gave me the evil eye. “Don’t leave me again.” When I couldn’t take the hand she reached out to me because I needed both of mine to operate the crutches, she trudged beside me wearing a scowl.
By the time we reached the stream, I was utterly exhausted. When I collapsed onto my sitting rock, the boulder’s coolness penetrated straight through my sweatpants to my bottom. Ignoring this additional discomfort, I laid my crutches on the bed of pine needles to my right. Besides the ever-present smells of damp leaves, pine, and earth here, the cool air also carried the distinct scent of impending snow.
I glanced up, past the fading leaves still clinging hopelessly to branches, to the clouds shrouding the sun in hazy gray. It wasn’t cold enough yet to do much more than rain, but the temperature could easily drop overnight, thrusting us out of autumn, straight into winter. The thought that I might live to see the first snowfall after all brought me no joy. My mind was too preoccupied with fears and fantasies to care.
Isabella sat at my side, zipping and unzipping her purple fleece. We said nothing as I gathered the stones scattered at my feet and threw them, one by one, into the stream. Droplets rose and fell with each deposit. When my arm grew too weary to continue, I leaned on my hands and turned to my daughter. “I think we’re going to move. What do you think of that?”
Her eyes lit up. She jumped in front of me, fluttering her hands like a hummingbird preparing to take flight. “Back to our apartment?”
I shook my head. “No, Bells, we’re never moving back to the city. Tullytown is our home now.”
Her hands stilled as the sparkle left her eyes.
I painted on my most convincing smile. “Don’t look so sad. We’re moving somewhere even better—into the saddle barn with Craig!”
Her eyebrows knit together. She didn’t need to say a word. Her expression made it quite clear that she wasn’t impressed.
“You should see your room,” I said. “It’s so pretty.”
She gave me a look that must have mirrored the one I’d given Lindsey when she had said the same to me. “I don’t wanna move there. His house is too small.”
“It’s bigger than it looks,” I said.
“Why can’t Craig move into Cowpa’s house?”
“Because he lives at the saddle barn.”
“Well, I live with you and Mama Pig and Cowpa.” She crossed her arms.
I sighed. “It’s only just across the yard.”
She turned and gave me her back.
I touched her shoulder, and she yanked it away. “What is it, sweetness?”
“I don’t wanna move anymore.”
“Guess what, Bella?”
She threw a weary glance over her shoulder.
“Mommy is marrying Craig.”
She stared at me a moment with an expression I couldn’t read, then turned away. “You can’t marry Craig.”
“Why not?”
“Because you’re going to marry my daddy.”
“Bells, your daddy’s already married to Lindsey.”
“I asked God to take her across the ocean ’stead of you. Then you can marry my daddy and we can all live together at Cowpa’s house.”
Wow, I thought, leaning back, how long has she been fanning the fire of that pipe dream? “You shouldn’t pray that. Jesus is taking me, not her. When that happens, you’re going to live with your daddy and Lindsey at their house. That hasn’t changed.”
She kicked at a rotted tree stump with her boot. Flecks of brown peppered the ground as she knocked a hunk of bark from it. She looked up at me. “Mommy, once I’m a growed-up, I can live wherever I want, right?”
I ran the back of my hand across her cool cheek. “Yes, baby, when you’re a grown-up, you can live wherever you want.”
“Then I want to move back to the city with you, and since I am a growed-up, you have to do it!”
“You’re not a grown-up yet, young lady.”
“Yes, I am.” She unzipped her fleece, planted her hands on her hips, and stuck her torso out as if she were Wonder Woman. “See?” Two mounds protruded from her T-shirted chest. My daughter had mysteriously gone from being years away from needing a training bra to a full B-cup, just like that.
Trying hard not to make light of her newfound womanhood, I kept a serious expression as I pulled the collar of her shirt away from her neck and glanced down her front. Inside out and twisted over her shoulders was my black bra. I pulled the silky fabric back to see what she was using for breasts. She blushed and pulled away from me. When she did, one of the apples fell to the forest floor. Her eyes grew wide. “Look what you did! Now I’m not growed-up anymore!”
I grabbed the bruised fruit from the ground. Its pale color, along with the green leaves still clinging to the stem, marked it as one of my mother’s.
Isabella’s quivering bottom lip told me that tears were on their way. I would have to work fast to distract her. “If you were a grown-up, would you really want to move back to the city?”
The diversion worked because her lip stopped trembling. She nodded.
“Why the city?” I asked.
“You aren’t dying there.”
My heart sank. Still clutching Mom’s apple, I laid my chin on top of her hair and held her as tight as my weak arms were able. “Oh, sweetness. I’m dying no matter where we live.”
Isabella pulled back and held out her palm. “I want my ninny back.”
I looked from the apple I still clutched to her. Ninny was her word for breasts all the way back to her nursing days. I didn’t know she still remembered. I held the bruised apple up and thought of Mom. Isabella grabbed it from my hand and crunched a bite out of it. As juice trickled down her chin, I laughed. “You are such a unique child.”
She giggled at herself, then took another bite.
“You know,” I said, “your grandma, my mother, planted that apple tree right before she died.”
Isabella swallowed. “She did?”
“Yep. And do you know why?”
Her eyes were riveted on me as she shook her head.
“I think it was a gift she knew she could give to her family even after she went to heaven.”
A pine needle hung from Isabella’s curl, just as it had the first time we had come here together. And just as it had then, lov
e overwhelmed me. As I pulled it from her hair, I remembered my purpose in coming here that first time. I had returned home not to fall in love, nor to find happiness for myself, but to ensure a future for my little girl. To protect her . . . because nothing mattered more.
A lump formed in my throat as I realized what I needed to do. I reached behind my neck and unlatched the gold chain from it. Isabella ate her falsie as I slipped the ring onto my finger. The diamond was almost as beautiful as the love it represented, but there was no denying the fact that it just didn’t fit—despite how badly I wanted it to.
I pulled it back off. “Your daddy asked if you could sleep over at his house again tonight.”
Anxiety filled her eyes. “I don’t wanna.”
I thought of Craig’s blond lashes that I so loved to kiss, his wonderful smell, and how comforting it would have been to be held by his strong arms as I drew my final breaths.
My gaze moved down Isabella’s arm to the half-eaten apple she held. I thought of my mother, thin as a rail, digging a hole in the dirt with what remained of her strength so she could plant a tree that she would never eat from. I thought of my daughter trembling on the bedroom floor, screaming for me as Lindsey tried to comfort her, and I thought of Mama Peg saying life was about planting a tree whose shade you never intended to sit under.
I couldn’t think of a worse way to spend my last days than with David and Lindsey, but a skeleton of a woman cannot throw on her cape and save the world. I barely had the energy to get out of bed in the morning.
Isabella, however, I could rescue.
This was my final chance to be a hero, even if I was the only one who would ever know it. I could give her something even better than an apple tree; I could give her peace. I doubted that she would ever understand the sacrifice I was getting ready to make for her, or how much it would cost me.
“What if I come too?” I said.
When the fear left her eyes, I knew I was making the right decision.
The wind whistled through the treetops. I listened hard for a confirmation from heaven that I was on the right path. The breeze died without uttering a word. The only thing I could hear now was the pounding of my heart.
“Come on, Bella. It’s time to go.” I picked up a brown leaf from the ground, crumbled it into a million pieces, and scattered it over the water. Isabella and I watched the debris float downstream, carried away to who knew where, to eventually fertilize who knew what.
Chapter Thirty-six
Isabella and I stood on the porch with everything we had to our name piled at our feet. When David pulled into the driveway, spewing gravel from his tires, Craig mumbled an expletive that I hoped Isabella hadn’t heard. Given the circumstances, I thought it better not to chide him for it. He was already hurting enough, and besides, David really was what Craig had called him.
When David beeped the horn twice in quick succession, my father’s nostrils flared like wings on a fighter plane. With his balled-up hands swinging from his sides, he soared over to the car. Whatever he grumbled into the window left David wide-eyed, red-faced, and apologetic. He quickly got out of the car and made his way to the porch.
Craig, my father, and David worked together to load our belongings into the trunk, while Mama Peg, Isabella, and I watched in silence. Although I knew my grandmother was as sad as any of us, she managed to appear as unshakable as she had the day I’d come home with Isabella in tow.
Craig was another matter entirely. As he worked, he drew in deep breaths, one after another. I knew it was all he could do to keep it together, but thankfully, he managed to.
Mama Peg pulled me to her ample bosom and squeezed the breath out of me. With my ear plastered against her chest, the rattle and wheeze of her lungs sounded as if they were being amplified by a microphone. Finally she let me go. “Genevieve Paige Lucas, I love you,” she said.
“I know, Mama Peg. I love you too. You take care of Dad, okay?”
“What choice do I have?” A hint of a smile played on her pale lips.
Waiting for the odds and ends of pillows, covers, and stuffed animals to make it into the car, I studied Isabella’s profile as she watched her father interact with the other two men in her life. I considered how differently this scene might have gone had I not been accompanying her. She turned and gave me a surprising smile. She bounced on her heels, looking excited and eager . . . but not at all fearful.
After David closed the trunk, he started to get into the driver’s seat until my father directed him back to the porch with a severe look. David looked at him, hung his head, then joined us again. We all stood there silent, staring at each other like teenagers at our first dance, waiting for someone to make the first move.
Mama Peg pulled the oxygen tubing from over her ears, adjusted it, then put the tiny prongs back in her nostrils. “Where’s Lindsey?” she asked David.
David winked at Isabella, who giggled in return as though the gesture were hilarious. “At home putting the finishing touches on the girls’ rooms. You should see how excited she is. She’s been painting, cleaning, and organizing nonstop for days.”
“It’s called nesting,” I said.
David gave me a look that told me he couldn’t care less what it was called.
“You’ve got yourself a good wife,” Mama Peg said. Her eyes left David and fell on me. “Doesn’t he, Jenny?”
If anyone but her had put me on the spot like that, I would have let them have it with a scathing retort, but I knew what my grandmother was trying to do. She was, in her unique way, trying to remind me of my mission.
“She’s better than you deserve,” I said, trying to sound more tongue-in-cheek than I was. We all knew it was the truth—I suspect even David.
He gave a toothy smile. “I’m still thanking my lucky stars.”
I cleared my throat, wanting to end this conversation. “I think we’re ready to go.”
Without warning, Craig slid his hand behind my neck, leaned me backward, planted his soft, cool lips against mine, and gave me a kiss that tasted of root beer. It was a kiss I wouldn’t soon forget. When I opened my eyes, everyone was studying the ground. Everyone except David. He stared at Craig as though he’d just caught him red-handed trying to hot-wire his car. Wrong as it was, the jealousy in his eyes left me almost as satisfied as Craig’s kiss.
As we made our way down the steps, a fat ball of orange fur emerged from the shadows of the porch. Sweet Pea’s tail pointed skyward as he sauntered up to Isabella. He rubbed against her leg, purring like a motorbike and leaving a trail of fur along her pant leg. She reached out to pet him, but I grabbed her hand in the nick of time. Though she was the one person he’d let touch him without retaliating, I didn’t want to take any chances. She looked at me. “We almost forgot Sweet Pea!”
I shook my head. “We can’t take him, Bells.”
“Why . . . not?” Mama Peg said through coughs.
I turned around. She smiled mischievously.
If I had been a nicer person, I’d have let David off the hook by giving Isabella a firm no. Unfortunately for David, I wasn’t that person. If ever two creatures deserved each other, it was Sweet Pea and David Preston. If they weren’t different species, I would have sworn they were twins separated at birth. “It’s okay with me,” I said, not feeling half as guilty as I should have, “but I think you better ask your father.”
Isabella’s mouth spread into an ear-to-ear grin before the smile suddenly faded—replaced with her best manipulative pout. She batted her lashes at David. “Oh, please, Daddy. Can Sweet Pea come? He would help me be less scared. Please. Please. Pretty, pretty please?”
Red spread over David’s face and neck as he glared at me, then at the cat, and finally turned his attention back to his daughter. “I wish we could, angel, but we can’t take your grandma’s kitty. She’s had him forever. I’m already taking her two best girls. We don’t want her to be lonely.”
“I still have Jack and Craig,” Mama Peg quickly added. “I w
on’t be lonely. Really, David, I insist. It will be my going-away present.”
David turned and gave her a weary look, then let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, thanks.” He still had a scar on his left hand where Sweet Pea had gotten him good our senior year of high school. “Fine, but I am not putting that thing in its carrier. You know very well that it hates me.”
“Oh, for pity’s sake,” Mama Peg said. “He hates everyone except Bella.”
Craig watched the exchange with his fingertips tucked into the pocket of his jeans, looking as though he were losing his best friend, which of course he was. “I’ll do it. I’ll bring him with me tomorrow when I visit.”
David rolled his eyes. “Great.”
Mama Peg winked at me. “I’ll see you soon, kiddo.” To the unbeliever, her words might have been interpreted as a little white lie meant to spare us each from the harshness of reality. After all, she seldom, if ever, ventured farther than the yard those days, and I would soon be bedridden. But I knew as well as she did that even if we never saw each other again in the confines of our ailing bodies, our reunion in heaven would not be far-off.
My crutches rubbed against my armpits as we made our way to David’s car. When he opened the door for Isabella and me to get in, I turned around one last time. Craig, Mama Peg, and my father all waved as if they were standing at a train station platform, sending us off with a happy little bon voyage. Not knowing how else to react, I waved back. I knew the second the car rolled out of sight, they would all break down.
I, however, would not have that luxury.
From the back window, I watched Craig bring his fingers to his lips to blow me a kiss. I did the same, chanting a mantra in my head not to cry. Isabella turned and waved both hands at them, squealing with delight at everyone’s attention fixed on her.
To my daughter, this was not the same sad farewell it was to me. After my death, per our legal settlement, she would see my family every weekend until she was grown. This move with her mommy was nothing but another adventure. For me, it would be my last.