It’s a long drive to the nursing home, but in twenty-two years Lina has rarely missed a week. Even after she had Nathan. When he was little she’d bring him along. Sweet kid-candy in an old folk’s store. Now she brings her Labradoddle, Homer.
Clive is waiting by the door for the dog. He whistles at Lina. “Nice tan. Been on holiday?”
“Cuba.”
“You see Fidel?”
“Not this trip.” She hands over the leash. “Go make your rounds, Homer.”
In Catherine’s room she opens the curtains and cracks the window an inch. She’s propped up, but slipping left. Lina straightens her, as much as Catherine will straighten, brushes her hair, then drapes a new shawl over her skinny arms. “Looks like a fiesta, doesn’t it. Wish you could’ve seen the beaches, white white sand against peacock blue water. I’ve brought some good books today.” She reads from Prodigal Summer, then Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. “Hear that, Catherine? Ms. Oliver says we don’t have to crawl on our knees repenting. She has no clue, does she.” Lina kisses her cheek then whispers into Catherine’s ear, “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. Please, forgive me.” She gentles her eyelids closed with her palm. “Sleep now. I’ll see you next week.”
Clive reluctantly gives Homer back. She asks, “Did he cheer everyone up?”
Homer’s ears bunch in Clive’s veined hands. “Better than ten docs is this old boy.” He straightens, as much as Clive can straighten. “Nice tan. Been on holiday?”
“Cuba.”
“You see Fidel?” Lina smiles and Clive shuffles his feet. “Wouldn’t mind a rumba on the beach with you.”
She salsas with him. “Next trip, you’re my date.”
“I’ll hold you to it.” Lina hugs him and he holds on, maybe remembering a long ago dance with his sweetheart. “You know, I never forget.”
“Me either, Clive.” She releases him. “Me either.”
Homer jumps in the front seat knowing his company is needed for the drive back. While waiting for the windows to defrost, she scans the parking lot, thinking this might be the day she sees Michael coming to visit Catherine. Would he say hello? Would he walk right by?
There are four people who know what she did: her husband, her therapist, Michael and Catherine. Her mother knew, too. She’s buried now. Her face eternally fixed in Presbyterian disappointment.
On the days she visits Catherine, Peter picks Nathan up from school, makes spaghetti and has a glass of wine poured for her. They watch a movie. Lina never cares which one as long as Nathan is on one side and Peter is on the other.
Later, he’ll snug up behind her on the bed and hold her for as long as it takes for her to let go and fall asleep.
The following week she reads, Late Nights on Air then her favourite Rilke poems. “Michael told me you were a runner. I walk, in the woods behind our house. You often come along with me on those rambles. When the weather warms we’ll go outside so you can feel the wind on your face.”
Half way through Sunset a woman enters. She says, “Don’t stop, Cathy loved poetry.” Michael also told her that Catherine had a twin. It’s terrible to see how elegantly she would’ve aged. “I’m Cathy’s sister, Helen. I can’t say how much your visiting has meant to the family.” She smooths Catherine’s blanket. “It’s hard to fathom how her body keeps living in the absence of the mind, isn’t it.”
Lina stands. “I should be going.”
“Wait, I came to invite you to Cathy’s sixtieth birthday.”
“I can’t.”
“I didn’t even tell you when it was. The kids would love to have you there.”
“Are they okay?”
“Cathy’s kids?”
Lina nods.
“They’ve made out alright. The party is Saturday. Will you come?”
“No, sorry.”
“You must.”
“I… I can’t …”
“Why?”
“Because…” Lina exhales, letting the words fall. “I’m the reason she did what she did.”
“Pardon?”
“I’m… I’m the student Michael was sleeping with.”
“JJJeesus— you? You?”
Lina releases Catherine’s hand and turns to face Helen. The stainless water jug whams into her cheek, toppling her backwards over the chair, her head bouncing off the side table. Helen kicks, kicks again. “You stole her life! You—did this.” Homer is at her side before anyone else, snarling away the threat.
Lina sits at the nurse’s station until Peter arrives. Nurse Delores says, “Doctor Chang checked her out. Here’re the instructions. Wake her every two hours.”
“What the hell happened?”
“Catherine’s sister had a meltdown. Lina wouldn’t let us call the police.”
Peter gathers her up. “Come on, sweetheart.”
Lina is smiling under her swollen face and can’t say why, but she feels like making love, really making love, to this big generous man. “I broke a tooth.”
“Everything will be okay.”
A quiet snow falls in the woods beyond the window. She curls in her chair and grades papers, scribbling comments in the margin, Compelling image of ‘shadowlight’. You’re right, interminable sunshine is hard on the eyes.
Homer barks to a knock at the door. She peeks out, then opens it to Helen. “Um… the kids gave gifts from Cathy at the party. They chose this for you.” She extends a book.
Lina opens the thin volume of The Testing Tree inscribed, To Catherine, Love Michael, Christmas, 1972. “Come in. It’s freezing outside.”
“No, I should go.”
“Please.” The house is tiny and smells of wood smoke. The down sofa faces a windowed wall. Helen catches a glimpse of two deer at a saltlick. “Have a seat. I’ll make tea.”
Helen follows her into the kitchen and sits on an island stool. “Are you sure Cathy knew about you?”
“Painfully. She followed Michael to my apartment, begged him to come home. He said awful, awful things and she left. Next day they found her floating in the pool.”
“You and Michael…?”
“Ended. We never should have started. I knew he was married with three little kids.”
“Have you been happy?”
“Weighted happiness. Before Nathan was born I had two miscarriages and a stillbirth. Thought that would be penance enough for Catherine’s kids losing their mom.”
“I’m sorry.”
“A thousand ‘sorries’ hasn’t erased it either. It wasn’t until you kicked me in the gut that the knot loosened a little.”
Helen absorbs the bruise on Lina’s face. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“It’s made for some pretty interesting classroom discussion.”
“What do you teach?”
Lina pours spiced chai. “Ethics.”
“Pardon?”
“I teach Ethics.”
Tea snorts through Helen’s nose. She erupts. They both explode— laughing, laughing, laughing, muscles aching from face to belly. Lina opens the patio door for air and Helen stumbles into the cold, dousing her face with snow. “You ready for the real kicker? Guess what I do?”
Lina wheezes, “Kung-fu instructor?”
“I’m, I’m…” Her breaths puff like smoke. “I’m a prison chaplain, and… and…” Lina thinks Helen is still laughing until the tears sink in. “For twenty-two years, I’ve believed that Cathy overdosed because she found out about Michael and me.”
Published in Wild Words Anthology, 2010
Loved the story & awesome endings too!!
I love these characters. Sometimes the heavy bags we carry around are nothing but dust.