Rose Harbor in Bloom (35 page)

They didn’t speak again until they reached Highway 16, which would eventually link up with the interstate in Tacoma. “Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked, carefully keeping his focus on the road.

“Like what?”

“Something having to do with the cancer?”

“No.” She’d been completely honest from the first.

“You’re sure?”

“George, of course I’m sure.” Did he really think she would lie to him about a subject this serious? And then she realized he had every reason to doubt her after what he’d learned about her and Amanda these last few days.

“You’re aware Seattle has one of the finest cancer research centers in the country, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center was world-renowned.

Thinking she needed to change the subject completely, she said, “Let’s not talk about my leaving, please. It’s difficult for us both.”

“What do you want to talk about, then?”

“Amanda.”

Right away, she sensed the tension leaving his shoulders. “She’s amazing.”

Just mentioning their daughter brought a sense of lightness, and joy, to Mary, too. “I couldn’t agree more. Seeing her, speaking to her one-on-one was so much more than I’d hoped for. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Did you find it hard not to touch her?” he asked.

“Yes, oh, yes. I had to clench my fists to remind myself not to reach out and cup her face. It was even harder not to hug her and explain that she was the one I carried beneath my heart for nine months.”

“For a moment, I was afraid her parents might recognize the two of us,” George said.

“How could they?”

“Mary, my goodness, she looks just like you; didn’t you notice?”

She hadn’t. “I thought she looked more like you.”

For the first time that morning, George smiled. “You did the right thing by giving her up to the Palmers.”

Mary had felt the same way, although over the course of the graduation, she’d been assaulted with regrets. Seeing her daughter stand up as valedictorian had filled Mary with doubts. She wanted everyone to know that this was her child, the fruit of her womb. That would have been completely unfair to the family that had raised her these last eighteen years. It had taken Mary several moments to realize it was too late for regrets now. As difficult as it was, she let those feelings go. Instead, she’d concentrated on her daughter’s speech.

It was ironic, really. Seeing Amanda had produced profound joy and at the same time profound sadness. It was hard to explain,
hard to understand how Mary could feel the mixture of the two emotions simultaneously.

The traffic was heavy as they merged with the interstate. Mary glanced at her watch. Because she moved slowly these days, she’d left herself plenty of time at the airport. At this rate, she would arrive two hours before her departure.

They rode in silence for the next several minutes, as if everything they wanted to say had already been said, in some cases multiple times.

George drove past the first exit to the airport.

“Shouldn’t you have taken that exit?” she asked.

“There are two exits. I’ve always taken the other.”

“Okay.”

“Your flight isn’t for another two hours,” he reminded her.

“It takes awhile getting through security, and I walk slow.” She might even need to stop and rest for a few minutes, depending on how far away the gate was. And she refused to be pushed in a wheelchair.

“Would you like me to see you to your gate? It doesn’t take much to get a pass.”

“No, but thanks.” It would be difficult enough without prolonging the good-byes.

“You’ll check your bag outside, won’t you?”

“Yes. I’ve already printed out my boarding pass.”

“Good idea. Jo Marie did that for you?”

“Yes. She was most helpful.”

George changed lanes, getting into the far right-hand lane to exit. “I heard she’s a widow.”

“Yes.” Getting this close to the airport, to leaving George, caused Mary’s throat to tighten.

“Do you know her story?”

“I don’t.”

She mustn’t have sounded like herself, because George glanced her way. “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, downplaying the dread that filled her.

The freeway sign indicating they were within one mile of the exit came into view. Her throat grew thicker. She wouldn’t cry; she absolutely refused to let George see her weep.

After a few minutes, without warning, George changed lanes, swerving back into the heavy traffic heading north.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

George didn’t answer her.

“George, you just missed the exit.”

“I know.”

“But … George, I need to get to the airport. You said you would drive me to the airport.”

“I lied,” he said, as if this was a small thing.

“What do you mean you lied?” Mary was angry now.

“I’ll explain everything once we’re back at my condo.”

“I am not going to your condo,” she insisted.

“Oh, but you are. You have no other option.”

He was right, but that didn’t help matters any. “I insist you take the next exit and head back to the airport.”

“Sorry, that isn’t possible.”

“Of course it’s possible. Are you kidnapping me? Is that it?”

“I’ll explain everything in a couple of minutes.”

“Explain it now. This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done.”

“I thought you’d say that.” He looked downright gleeful.

“George, for the love of heaven, what has gotten into you?”

He simply smiled and shook his head, refusing to answer her.

Demanding didn’t work, and he ignored her pleas, so she sat back in the seat and crossed her arms, not knowing what else could be done.

He took one of the downtown Seattle exits and drove directly to his condo building. He pulled into the parking garage and into the space reserved for his vehicle.

After turning off the ignition, he climbed out of the car, walked around, and opened the passenger door. Mary refused to budge. If he could be stubborn, so could she. She had her arms crossed, and she looked straight ahead and refused to acknowledge the hand he held out to her.

“I let you walk away from me before,” he said calmly, “and I decided I wasn’t going to let you make the same mistake twice.”

“Me?”

“I was a fool to let you go the first time. I’m not doing it again.”

“George,” she pleaded, squeezing her eyes closed with pain and frustration. “Don’t you realize what you’re doing? I have cancer. My doctors, my medical records, are in New York.”

“Seattle has wonderful cancer doctors, too, and emailing records takes no time whatsoever.”

“My home is in New York.”

“No, it isn’t,” he challenged.

She sighed with annoyance.

“Your home is with me,” he continued. “We’ve cheated each other out of nineteen years, and I’m unwilling to let one more unnecessary day go by without you in my life.”

“Oh, George …”

“Do you love me or not?”

She bit down on her lip to keep from answering.

“You can’t lie, Mary. I know you too well.”

“Then why did you ask?” Tears crowded her eyes. Oh, dear heaven, here she was weeping again, weak as a newborn kitten.

“I refuse to give in. If I let you walk away from me again, I’ll regret it the rest of my life.”

“Don’t you understand?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I could be dying …”

“We’re all dying.”

She cupped her hand over her mouth.

George squatted down beside her. “You can fight me all you want, but this is a battle I intend to win. I’m not letting you leave me. You can argue until you’re blue in the face, but the decision has been made.”

“What do you mean?”

“I contacted a friend of mine who’s getting me the name of the top cancer specialist in the country.”

“He’s in New York.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Good try. I don’t know where he practices; that isn’t my concern. You are. No matter what the future holds, we’re facing it together.”

“Oh, George.” It was impossible to hold back the tears any longer.

“We belong together. We always have. Just how long are you going to fight me on this?”

The will to leave him was gone. With a sob, she threw her arms around his neck and clung to him, nearly toppling him over. “I love you so much.”

“I know … I love you, too. Whatever happens, Mary, I’ll be at your side.”

She nodded.

Mary didn’t know what she’d done to deserve this man, but whatever it was, she would be forever grateful.

I’d just finished the cleaning process in Mary Smith’s room when the phone rang. I bebopped down the stairs to answer it, my mood lighter than it had been in the last couple of days. I felt good. As much as I’d fretted over the open house, everything had come together beautifully.

“Rose Harbor Inn,” I greeted cheerfully.

“Jo Marie?” My name was followed by a slight hesitation.

Lieutenant Colonel Milford.

This was the call I’d been eagerly anticipating and dreading all at once. The conversation that would strengthen that slender thread of hope or sever it completely.

I collapsed into the desk chair. The phone was pressed hard against my ear, so hard that it hurt. “What did you find out?”

“I got word only a few minutes ago.”

“The DNA tests are back?” Why couldn’t he simply tell me rather than prolong my agony? Surely he knew the answer by now.

“It takes longer than a day or two to come up with that kind of information.”

“So there’s a chance—”

“No,” he said, cutting me off. “There is no chance Paul survived the crash. None whatsoever.”

“What do you mean?” I challenged.

“I’m sorry.”

“But you said the DNA tests weren’t back.” I argued.

“They aren’t.”

“Then how can you be so sure Paul is dead? You told me yourself that—”

Again he interrupted me. “The remains of all six men have been accounted for now. I’m sorry. I wish I had better news.”

His words knocked the breath right out of me. My lungs felt as if they had collapsed. A renewed sense of grief hit so hard it felt as if it had buried me.

The next sound frightened me. A wail of grief, of loss, of pain. All hope was gone now. It took me several moments to realize that cry had come from me. My husband was dead.

Instantly, Rover was at my side. He stood on his two hind legs and placed his front paws on my thigh as if to comfort me. My hand shook terribly as I set it on top of his head. My face burned hot, and the tears seared my cheeks as they squirted from my eyes.

“If you want Paul can be buried at Arlington National Cemetery,” Milford continued. He told me again what a fine man Paul had been, but I already knew that. I listened but I barely heard his words.

After a few words of farewell, I replaced the phone.

It was over now.

For a long time I sat staring into the distance. Then I sucked in
a deep breath and dried my tears. My heart felt like it had swollen to twice its normal size. All my options were gone, all the scenarios I’d built up in my mind dissolved into dust.

I was petting Rover’s head, taking comfort in my special companion, when my hand froze. It was time to read Paul’s letter.

Like a ghost walker, I made my way into my private quarters and sat on my bed. I opened my bedside drawer where I had tucked it away and pulled out the envelope.

I read it through twice, nonstop.

It didn’t contain any surprises. He said exactly what I had expected.

He loved me.

He didn’t want me to grieve.

He would meet me in heaven but he hoped that wouldn’t be for a good many years because I had a great deal to offer to others.

When I finished, I folded it up and returned it to the envelope.

“Get on with your life,” Paul wrote, and he was right. I had work to do.

I’d barely had time to recover when Rover barked and then raced frantically out of my room to the front door. I had company.

The doorbell rang a second time, and when I opened the door I immediately recognized the woman who stood on the other side.

“Michelle,” I said. I’d met Michelle Nelson through Joshua Weaver, one of the very first guests to stay at Rose Harbor Inn. Joshua had come to visit his stepfather, who was dying and in fact did pass while Joshua was with him. Michelle had lived next door to Joshua’s stepfather and had known Josh while she was in high school.

Michelle wasn’t a member of the Chamber of Commerce. She worked for the state as a social worker, but she had many ties to the community. I’d invited her to the open house because I hadn’t heard from him since he’d left town—not that I’d expected that I would. I’d sensed a romance brewing between him and Michelle,
and wanted an update without appearing intrusive or overly inquisitive.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the open house,” Michelle said by way of greeting.

To be honest, I hadn’t noticed. With so many of my fellow business owners wandering in and out, I’d lost track of who had come and who hadn’t.

“I bet you had a lot of people.” Michelle stepped into the foyer, and Rover was right there, ready to greet her. She bent down and rubbed his ears while murmuring what a good dog he was. Rover reveled in her attention. It seemed men and dogs responded best to food, toys, and praise.

“Do you have time for coffee?” I asked, watching the interplay between Michelle and Rover.

“Do you?” she countered, glancing up at me.

“Sure.” I could use a distraction. My one hope was that she wouldn’t notice that I’d recently been crying. I’d move one foot forward, taking today one step at a time, while I dealt with the reality of what I’d just learned. Thankfully, my next set of guests wasn’t scheduled to arrive until Tuesday, so I had a one-day break.

I led the way into the kitchen, and Michelle followed. While I reached for the coffeepot she took a chair at the small two-person table I had up against the wall.

“I’m due in court in a half hour,” she explained. “I can only stay a few minutes.”

“Not a problem. Is it for an adoption?”

“This is the best part of my job,” Michelle said as she nodded. “This little boy is as cute as a button, and his new family is thrilled. His mom has gone through six IVF attempts without success. She was convinced she would never be a mother when they decided to apply for adoption. As most families do, they were looking to get an infant.”