Long Time Running (12 page)

She could see Andrew was struggling with what to say next.

"Nat, he couldn't function. At first, he was scared out of his mind, fearful that something had happened to you, adamant that you wouldn't leave him." Andrew stood from the chair and began to pace as the
tension of reliving those first days formed a rock in the pit of his stomach.

"Once Sarah confirmed that you were ok - and that was all she would tell him - he just..." he paused mid stride as he met her
eyes and saw the pain that can only come from hurting those you love reflected back at him. "He just...quit."

"Is that," she sniffed, "how you two ended up
in New York?"

He nodded. "I was offered a fellowship here and he needed a new start."

"Everyone is entitled to a fresh start." She responded blankly as she stared at the window of her room.

They were silent for several minutes both lost in thoughts about others. Sitting on the edge of her bed, Andrew reached out and took her hand. "Listen, Nat, I need to know about the source of your trauma - the burn, the panic attacks, the nightmares. It may have an impact on your
surgery."

She shook her head, her hand trembling inside his. "It...it doesn't. "

"Nat-"

"I can't," she insisted. "Please Ant,
don't."

"Have you ever told anyone?" he asked gently.

She looked over his shoulder for a moment before looking back at him. "Everyone in my life already knows."

"Even Sarah?" he challenged kindly.

"She...she knows enough. I can't.....I can't talk about it."

"Okay," he agreed, squeezing her hand before she
pulled it away. "I won't push. We'll get the tumor out on Saturday and then you can start re-building your life."

"My....my life is in Tanzania" she replied quietly.

Andrew shook his head. "Your sister is here. The man
you are still in love with," he said pointedly, "is here." He got to his feet. "Your life is here." In more ways than you know, he thought.

Nathalie held the plush bunny on her lap and stroked its soft ears. When she had awoken that morning the light brown stuffed toy had
been staring back at her from the night stand. There was no note or any indication of who left it. One wasn't needed. She had immediately recognized the treasure from that long ago summer day. She could still feel the sun on her
face as Eric had knocked down the milk cans to win her the now well worn toy. Why had he kept it after all these years? Her heart rushed to an answer her head would not agree with. As she continued to run her fingers through its fur
she scolded herself for being ridiculously pleased with a toy. She was a 35 year old woman - a doctor no less - and a stuffed bunny should not be bringing her as much comfort as it was.

Her conversation with Andrew had served as a renewed source
of strength. She had finally been able to say the words 'I'm sorry' and while he may not be the person who most needed to hear it, it helped that she said it. He had not let her off the hook for what she had done but he had not nailed
her to a cross either. Both the honesty and the compassion he had provided were exactly what she needed. She was not as convinced as he was that her life was here rather than in Tanzania but regardless of where she landed when it was all over she did need to repair that which she had broken.

Pulling her locket from her neck she pried it open and stared at the picture of Jack. There was not a day - or a moment - that went by that she did not miss him. There was a hole in her heart that could only be
filled by him yet she knew it never would be. She imagined him as a bright and curious boy. His birthday was a little less than week away. Every year, on his birthday, she would travel from Mbamba to Table Mountain in South Africa. She
would hike on one of the trails and find a quiet space where she would sit for several hours and try to envisage the life he was leading. She would pour all of her love and hopes for him into a birthday letter that she would never send. The same letters now carefully tucked into the bottom of her suitcase. She
didn't know why she had brought them with her but she was glad she had. It would be strange for her to be in New York - near his father - when his birthday came. Maybe it was time to tell Eric the truth and maybe Jack's
birthday would be the right day.

A tear splashed on to the locket and she quickly wiped it away.

"You okay?"

The sound of her sister's voice brought a small smile to her
face and she nodded as she looked up. "I'm telling you, I can't wait to be rid of this tumor - it's turning me into a sobbing mess."

Sarah sat on the end of the bed and shook her head. "You were always a softie," she teased, "you just liked to
pretend you weren't." Glancing down at the locket, she exhaled slowly. "Reminiscing?"

"Yeah. I miss him Sarah. He's going to be eight next week."

Sarah dropped her gaze. "I know. Do you....do you regret giving him up?"

"No," she admitted. "There were no other options."

"That's not true," she protested. "You....I
know you felt like you couldn't care for him them but you got better."

She scoffed. "Not that much better. Look at me Sar," she held up her shaking hands. "I can't even....talk about him nearly undoes me. Never mind everything else."

Sarah took her sister's hands in her own and kissed each one. "You know I love you, right?"

Cocking her head, she looked curiously at her sister. "Yes," she reassured her. Reaching for the glass on the nightstand,
she gulped down the water before speaking again. "It...it occurs to me that I never said I'm sorry. And I am - I want you to know that."

Surprised, Sarah moved closer to her. "Why would need
to say you're sorry?"

"For...for everything I put you through. You were by my side when I found out about...when I moved to Geneva. And you rode to my rescue again after the....after. And then I pretty much put Jack in your arms and
asked you to take care of everything and you did. Sarah you took care of him and me and then I stopped returning your calls and your letters. That was cruel and selfish of me and I have no real excuse for it other than I thought it
would be easier for me if I didn't have anything from..." her voice trailed off.

"From your past?" She offered.

Nathalie nodded. "You are my sister and I love you. And
if I have taken advantage of you or hurt you then I am so very sorry because it was never my intention to do that."

Overcome, Sarah wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged her tightly, kissing her cheek. "I love you Natty" she told
her. "I always will."

The two women stayed locked in their embrace for several minutes. For so long it had been just the two of them. Their parents were killed in a car accident when Nathalie was 14 and Sarah 17. They were taken in
by their aunt but they turned only to each other in hard times. When Sarah had left for university, Nathalie transferred schools and followed her to South Bend, Indiana so she wouldn't have to be separated. It was only once Sarah was
accepted at NYU for law and Nathalie at Northwestern for Medicine that they lived apart. But the distance did little to diminish their closeness and anyone wanting to be a part of their lives had to accept their sister too.

They wiped each other's tears as they let go, both laughing at the old habits that had returned so easily.

"Do you...do you know where you're going to go after your surgery?" Sarah asked, nervously.

Nathalie shrugged. "I'm not sure" she admitted honestly. "I...I miss Mylea and the hospital but I miss some things here too. And I...I think I need to make things right with Eric before I go anywhere."

She swallowed nervously. "How do you propose doing
that?"

"I have to tell him everything," she said simply. "He deserves to know it all."

"Everything?" she asked in surprise.

Nathalie nodded. "I owe him that. He needs...he needs to know why I left. And...he needs to know why I gave up Jack," she whispered.

"Natty - are you....are you thinking of telling him all
the details?"

Pulling on her fingers she nodded again. "Sarah, I'm under no illusions that he can ever forgive me. I know...I spoke to Andrew last night and I understand I guess in a way I hadn't before the depth of hurt I
cause him. So I know he won't be able to forgive me but maybe if he knows all of it, maybe he'll understand it a little better and it won't hurt as much."

"For him or for you?" she questioned.

"Both I guess."

"You have never spoken about that night," she reminded her.

Nathalie shook her head. "And honestly I don't know that I can without losing it entirely. Keith....Keith wrote a story about the
residual effects on those who survived - he had no idea I had been there - and Sarah, I'm telling you when I read it I thought....I could see it all again and I fell apart."

Her entire being shuddered as she spoke. It had been Mylea
who had helped her put one foot in front of the other after the article had appeared in the paper. When she asked Mylea, who had also survived that night, how she was able to keep going the older nurse simply told her that stopping
was not an option.

"Nat, why tell him all of it if it is going to cost you so much?"

"Because" she said with a ragged breath. "I owe him that much. I love him Sarah - I love him with all of my heart and I
always will. I can't undo what I did but I can...I can give him the truth and that's worth something."

Standing in the hallway, listening to the conversation, Eric bit down on his lip. He wasn't the only who was owed the truth. He had left the
rabbit as a kind of peace offering but there was truly only one thing that would bring peace. If they were ever going to reclaim themselves, if they were ever going to be the parents their son needed then the time for secrets was
over. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed down the hall.

Reaching in to his closet Eric pried free the large storage box that had travelled with him from Chicago to New York. He had forgotten about until last night. The top had come loose when a football had dropped from
the shelf and landed on it. As he had moved to close it again, he had caught sight of the light brown stuffed rabbit sitting on top of a pile of books and he was struck by the memories that flooded back. Having won it for her at a carnival, she had teasingly told him she was going to replace him with the
rabbit because their schedules had been so out of synch.

He had come home more than once to find her curled up on the couch, having fallen asleep waiting for him, the bunny in her arms. He told
himself that it was only the warmth those memories evoked in him, the knowledge that she had felt safe once, that had pushed him into leaving the toy at her bed side while she was sleeping. But he knew it was more than that. He just
couldn't bring himself to label the emotions coursing through him since her return.

Now, having overheard her conversation with Sarah, he was suddenly motivated to pull out the box and face the evidence of their relationship
head on. He had avoided this moment since her departure as he wasn't sure if the contents would help dull the pain or amplify it. He didn't recall much in the weeks after Nathalie had left, courtesy of a constant flow of whiskey, but he had startlingly clear memories of Andrew packing up her remaining belongings
and placing them in this bin.

With a final twist he was able to pull it from its spot. Setting it down on the floor, he sank down beside it and tugged off the lid to investigate its contents. Reaching inside, he pulled out two thick photo albums
and a leather bound book. He set the albums to the side, not sure he was up to emotional toll of reliving their relationship in pictures. He picked up a book to examine it and gasped softly.

Nathalie's journal.

She had written in it religiously and he had often teased her about her "diary" asking her if she wrote "Mrs. Eric Smitherman" in pink ink, surrounded with hearts and flowers. He chuckled
softly at the memories of the joking punches he received at his playful teasing. In reality, he envied her ability to be so open about her feelings and emotions.

Eric struggled as he ran his fingers down the spine of her
personal confessional; he knew she had not meant to leave it behind, certain it had been an oversight in her haste to leave. As much as he wanted to understand her reasons for leaving - for keeping his son from him, he was strangely concerned with violating her trust by reading the contents.

He sat in silence for several moments as his hands wore patterns on the leather, unsure of what to do next. He liked to think he was magnanimous enough to not read it but the truth was he was afraid of what was
in there. He was afraid that the truth on the pages would illustrate what he had done to destroy her trust in him or worse, destroy his belief that she had ever truly loved him.

Eric shook his head to chase away the ghosts of thoughts
past. He knew differently than that. He knew when he kissed her. He knew when he held her in his arms and when he fell asleep with her breath rustling against his shirt and he certainly knew when he heard her tell Sarah. She had
loved him. She still did.

Whatever caused her to give up Jack had been horrifying and traumatic, there was no doubt. What still pierced his heart was that she left in the first place without ever telling him he was a father. Whatever could
have possessed her to think he would not have stood by her side? Was she afraid that he would be such an awful father that their child would be better off without him? Picking up the diary he hoped there might be some clues inside.