To the Sea (Follow your Bliss) (14 page)

“I’d
love to, but I’m going to have to leave you wanting more. I’ll come up Tuesday
after work with my answer.”

He
made a puppy dog face, his big blue eyes looking at her indulgently, sunglasses
perched on his head, but then he assured her he’d be waiting.

Chapter Eighteen

Kira
headed to the Annandale house, making it her second time arriving there
unannounced. But she preferred it to an awkward conversation over the phone
followed by nervous anticipation during the drive over.

She
pulled in behind an Audi, a Cadillac, and a BMW, all parked lengthwise in the
driveway, like a luxury car lot, each belonging to Jeremy’s brothers.
Crap.
Sunday family dinner
.

The
SUV idled behind the BMW with a vanity plate that read,
THE LAW
. She
considered turning back and dropping off the boxes another time, but didn’t
want their emotional burden to carry into her week. At the last moment, she got
up the courage to knock on the door instead of leaving them anonymously as
she’d left the urn.

Kira
rang the bell of the palatial home, and waited with the first box in her hands.
Jeremy’s petite mother, Beverly, opened the door, greeting her warmly, a
contrast to their last interaction at the funeral.

“Hello
Kira, what do you have for us here?”

“I
brought some of Jeremy’s things. I know we originally discussed I’d keep his
ashes, but it became too difficult. I think he’s best at rest with his family,”
Kira said sparing her any further details. “Also these boxes contain memories
of a Jeremy I didn’t know. I thought you’d like to hold onto them,” she said.
This was closer to the truth, but Kira still avoided the molten pain at the
core of it. She figured because of the hurt she endured, Jeremy’s mother would
be better off with the version of the son he’d presented to her. The dark
figure belonging to Jeremy’s brother, Paul, appeared behind his mother.

“Hi
Paul,” Kira said quietly putting the box on the floor in the foyer. He ignored
her, but followed to the Mercedes to retrieve another one.

“Bitch,”
he spat, out of his mother’s earshot.

“What?”
Kira whipped around. Her box knocked into the one he held, sending everything
crashing to the ground, including the clutch of DVDs. Kira scrambled in the
gravel gathering everything that had spilled.

“Blain
told me all about you.”

This
bold statement confused Kira; surely, he didn’t mean the confrontation at the
cafe.

“He
told me that you refused to sleep with Jeremy, and it forced him into the
company of other women.”

Kira’s
jaw simultaneously dropped and tightened. Then she realized they must know
about Courtney and all the other women, and acted to protect Jeremy’s memory or
they just didn’t want to believe the truth.

Kira
mustered an even tone and simply said, “I’m sorry Paul, you’ve been
misinformed.” With the contents of the box back in order, she marched to the
porch and then turned to leave.

As
Kira neared the Mercedes, footsteps crunched on the gravel behind her. She
braced herself if Paul intended to continue the argument. She turned to see
Jeremy’s mother standing there with a sad look in her eyes. The door to the
house slammed.

“Kira
dear, I’ve heard the unfortunate rumors circulating regarding you and Jeremy. I
love my sons. I love Jeremy and their father, but there is something about the
Annandale men. They have dalliances, indiscretions. After all these years, I’ve
learned to live with it. Gerald has slowed down, as he’s gotten older. But I’d
never wish that for you. I’m sorry I let it go so far.”

Kira
wanted to offer Beverly comfort at the confession, but then she realized
Jeremy’s mother meant for her words to provide relief. 

“I
was out with some of the ladies for dinner one night at a bistro in Boston. It
had just opened. Each month we get together and try a new establishment. We ran
into Jeremy on our way out. He was with a woman. It must have been nine p.m. or
so. He said she was a client, but I know better than to believe a woman dressed
like
that
would be a client.” She sighed. “I’m sorry dear. My boys are
proud. They’re complicated. But I just want you to know that, well; you’re not
alone with the truth.” She patted Kira’s arm then offered a perfunctory smile,
and walked carefully back to the house.

When
Kira climbed into the Mercedes, she sat frozen with astonishment. Part of her
still yearned for an apology or explanation from Jeremy, but she didn’t want it
to be a requirement for her overcoming grief. The simple words,
I’m sorry
,
were an impossibility, but in a quiet and private way, Beverly liberated Kira
from the injustice of falsehoods and self-doubt. She didn’t expect vindication,
but somehow through Beverly’s admission she no longer cared whether they
believed the truth or not. Someone did and sometimes one person is all that’s
needed. It made her feel like she had wings, buffering her as she prepared to
enter the Hillsborough Recovery Center with a small package in hand.

She
paused in the doorway to Courtney’s room, second-guessing her decision. Then
Kira cleared her throat and entered. Courtney gazed fixedly at a television
Kira couldn’t see, but heard the disquieting argument from a daytime talk show.
Courtney looked less pale and sickly, propped upright. She still wore the head
brace, but the casts were shorter and as Kira neared, she noticed someone had
painted her toenails. Courtney turned and looked at Kira with disdain.

“What
do you want?”

Kira
swallowed hard, but moved closer. Courtney didn’t look like she was in the mood
to make it easy.

“I
brought you something.”

Courtney
eyed Kira suspiciously, as she passed her the package.

“It’s
something I found when I cleared out Jeremy’s things. I thought you’d like to
have it.”

Courtney
turned on Kira. “It must be so easy for you to just clear out his things, file
him away as if he didn’t exist. Pack him up and lose the key. It isn’t so easy
for all of us you know.”

Kira’s
eyes widened at the accusations.

“Whatever
Jeremy told you about me—if there’s anything you want to know, please ask,
don’t assume. You can’t imagine what this has been like for me.”

“Nor
you me,” Courtney said practically spitting at Kira.

“I
didn’t come here to upset you.”

“Then
what did you come for?”

“That
for starters,” Kira said pointing to the package that she’d placed on the bed.

Tears
replaced Courtney’s scowl immediately after she opened it. She looked at the
framed photo of herself and Jeremy. “What? Why did you—thank you,” she said.

Kira
let out a deep breath like a wave released smoothly to shore.

“I
think you and I knew two very different versions of the same man, but I’m
here,” Kira said motioning to herself standing and able-bodied. “And you’re
there,” she said gesturing to the bed. “We have every reason to hate each
other. But as one woman to another, one human being to another, and the fact
that the third person involved, Jeremy, isn’t here to explain or defend himself
or, or—anything, I think trying for some kind of peaceable closure is the best
way to move on.”

Kira
surprised herself by sounding just like her father and his penchant for peace,
love, and understanding, but she really meant it. “You and I could go on for
the rest of our lives despising each other, but that just doesn’t feel right to
me. Perhaps he loved you, but you weren’t the only woman he was with, and he
and I
were
married. Nothing about it is logical or in my opinion right,
but you and I lived, and I intend to keep on living. Any amount of hatred or
anger on my part is going to keep me from doing that.” Kira looked at Courtney
searchingly, hoping to see that the younger woman understood.

“If
we’re being honest with each other I have something to tell you.” Courtney eyed
Kira as if she hadn’t quite convinced herself the conversation was the right
thing to do.

Just
then, a stout nurse dressed in a garish shade of pink came to Courtney’s side
and checked her over.

“You
okay? No sense in getting yourself all worked up. You rarely have visitors,
tell me who’s this?”

“This
is, I’m sorry I forget your name,” she said to Kira. The nurse patted her arm
soothingly like an elderly grandmother whose old age made the list of names she
knew excusably long. Maybe it was the accident.

Taken
aback, Kira told them.

“She’s,
well she knew Jeremy.” Courtney showed the nurse the photo.

“Well,
isn’t he a handsome one. I sure hope the baby looks just like his daddy.”

A
noise escaped from Kira registering somewhere between shock and dismay.

“I
was just about to tell you. During one of my exams, the doctor discovered I’m
pregnant. Baby boy. Jeremy Junior.”

The
room spun. Kira sucked air. She steadied herself and eventually found words,
reading them as if from a script.

“Courtney,
congratulations.”

The
nurse stood to leave, tucking Courtney in. Kira mechanically withdrew her pen
and checkbook, autopilot charting her in the direction of doing the right
thing.

“In
that case, I have one more thing for you.” Her own voice sounded distant. Kira
had already planned to give some money to Courtney if only because she’d
endured so many injuries due to Jeremy’s negligence, but in that instant, Kira
also wanted to give some of the money to Courtney for the baby. She wrote out a
check, and handed it to her.

“This
is for the baby, for you to get started taking care of him. Jeremy would’ve
wanted you to have it.” She also wrote down Beverly’s cell phone number. Kira’s
eyes filled with tears. “She’ll be so deeply happy to know Jeremy Junior.” Kira
knew this would bring a lifetime of joy to Mrs. Annandale. She’d always wanted
grandchildren, and Kira thought the baby would somehow fill that place in her
heart where she told herself she loved her husband and sons, but couldn’t do so
fully with a mountain of dishonesty between them. A baby was pure, whole, and
complete. Kira was also certain that Jeremy’s mother would take good care of
Jeremy Jr., financially, even if the situation were unconventional.

When
Kira left, she was pleased to see Courtney in a very different state than when
she’d arrived, the venom dissolved and in its place, she saw a scared woman,
but one given the gift of new life, a second chance. Kira hoped they’d never
cross paths again, only because the wound Jeremy had caused required time to
heal, and the news that Courtney carried his baby felt like another strike
against it. Kira knew she’d done the right thing even though the moment she got
in the car she let loose a despairing wail.

She
drove back to Lilac court, a blur of tears obscuring the windshield like rain.
Tired from surfing and the drama that unfolded in the afternoon at the Hillsborough
Recovery Center, Kira fell into bed, and woke to the sun streaming through the
opening in the curtains the next morning.

Rushing
to work, Kira stopped the tickertape of anger and sadness, which had ignited
anew after her visit with Courtney. While waiting for the elevator, the morning
news, on the flat screen in the lobby of the office building, ran an expose on
Africa. Kira caught a shot of the savannah before the elevator dinged. The
scenery reminded her of Jamie’s invitation. This intriguing possibility managed
to drench the agonizing potency of Courtney, Jeremy, and their baby. 

At
her desk, Kira stared at a stack of to-dos courtesy of Frank Brinkman. He
wanted the most out of her knowing that her last day would be Friday for two
weeks. Instead, she Googled, “South Africa, travel.” She’d never considered
going to the continent. Like the ocean, it seemed untamed and intimidating. But
as she clicked through images of sparse landscapes juxtaposing zebras and
colorful birds, sweeping views of the sea, and the temptation of wine tours,
Paris suddenly seemed impossibly remote, like a journey backwards in time.
Buzzing with excitement about her decision, Kira jumped right into the pile of
paperwork on her desk and only stopped when Alice poked her head in.

“Yoga?”

Kira
immersed herself in each pose to gain insurance against the guilt of changing
plans and doing something unconventional and possibly fun.

That
night, she made lists of chores around the house and a packing list, silently
thanking Nicole for the impromptu shopping trip; the clothes they picked out
were perfect.

Only
when she retrieved her suitcase and a brochure from the B&B in Nantucket
fluttered to the floor, did she mourn the loss of her honeymoon, of the
potential for love, and her future. She cried herself to sleep as dreams of
Paris and images of South Africa crammed her mind with uncertainty about having
made the right choice.