by J. L. Berg
“Yes, that’s the one.”
“He’s always been a little different.”
“It’s one of the things I love the most about him—his brilliance and how he sees the world. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, but sometimes, I think it hinders him.”
“How so?”
She seemed to ponder her words for a moment before replying, “Did you know I was his first friend in college? Before we met, he used to spend his weekends locked in his dorm room, doing homework.”
“That sounds about right,” I answered, remembering all the times I’d seen him do the exact same thing in high school.
“He was lonely. So lonely,” she said. “But he was terrified to do anything about it. He’s never been great with people.”
“Until he met you?” I ventured a guess.
“No, it wasn’t nearly that simple,” she said. “I was given his name through the tutoring department. I needed help in math, and he was looking for some additional income. It seemed like an easy solution. But when I called him, he outright refused my request. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. He hadn’t taken a single student all year.”
“Why?” I was totally intrigued now.
Hearing her tell this story was like taking a step through the looking glass to see my brother in a completely new way. He’d always been a bit of a mystery to me.
“I think, in theory, tutoring seemed like a logical way for him to make money. He was smart, and others could benefit from that. But the realization that he’d actually have to interact with others was more than he could handle.”
“So, how did you get him to change his mind?”
“I showed up at his door every day for a week straight. At first, I thought he was an odd duck. He was timid yet confident. Quiet until he had something to say. It took me three attempts before he even let me in, but I was seriously failing and was basically desperate for help.”
“You wore him down,” I replied.
“Yeah, but it took time—the wearing down. He might have agreed to tutor me after that first week, but the actual process of getting him to open up? That is an ongoing project—one I never stop working on.”
“And it’s worth it? The constant work?”
She smiled, placing a tender hand on her belly. “Yeah, it’s definitely worth it.”
“I have to admit,” I began, “I never really understood you as a couple. I always thought he married way up as far as you were concerned.”
She smiled. “It’s the other way around, I think. I definitely won the lottery when it comes to husbands. But the honest truth is, we fit together. Like—”
“Two halves of a whole?”
“Yeah.”
I thought about her words long after our conversation ended. Had I ever given much thought when it came to my brother’s actions? Ever since he was little, I’d always treated him like a sort of outsider.
A part of the family but not worth my time.
It was how Sawyer’s family had treated him, growing up.
Feeling like a total ass, I sought him out while Bethany was making dinner. He was in his study, putting together a spreadsheet or something along those lines.
In reality, I had no idea what he did as a career.
It had something to do with numbers, but beyond that, I was clueless when it came to truly knowing my brother. It made me no better than the Gallaghers.
And it needed to change.
“Hey,” I said lamely, taking a step into the room. The decor reminded me of an old men’s club; dark leather upholstery, expensive mahogany cabinets, and massive amounts of books covering every inch. Had he read all of these?
“Hello,” he replied, a touch of formality in his tone as he looked up from the computer. Or maybe that was annoyance.
“I want to apologize for what I said earlier. I know you were just trying to help her, and I’m sorry I couldn’t see that.”
“Well, thank you,” he answered, the formal tone still in place, although I did notice it’d softened slightly. “I know it couldn’t have been easy for you—finding out that way.”
“No,” I acknowledged. “But I know you—”
My words were swallowed up by Bethany’s voice, booming from the foyer. “Jack!” she yelled. “Help!”
With a sharp look of panic, he darted for the door with me quickly behind him.
“What is it? Are you okay? The baby?”
I’d never heard so much emotion pour from the man’s mouth as he looked up to see Bethany standing at the top of the stairs.
“Your mom collapsed. I can’t wake her!”
We both sprinted for the stairs as my heart fell to the floor.
Not yet, I begged.
Not now.
We followed Bethany into my mother’s room, her frail body lying on the floor.
“I came up to check on her and found her like this. I tried to lift her, but I couldn’t,” she explained. “I’m not strong enough.”
“Mom,” I said, a sense of panic clinging to my words as I knelt down beside her. “Mom! Wake up.”
“I’m calling 911,” my brother said.
I checked her pulse as Jack spoke on the phone. “She’s breathing.”
It took less than five minutes for the emergency responders to arrive. Although she hadn’t come to by then, they assured us they’d take care of her. Jack went with them, taking a spot next to her in the ambulance while I promised to follow by car.
My hands were shaking, and my mind was blank as I ran to the kitchen for my keys.
“Let me drive you,” Bethany offered.
“But what about the kids?”
“I can drop them off at the neighbor’s house. They already texted me after seeing the ambulance and offered any assistance we might need.”
As much as I didn’t want to admit defeat, I gave in, knowing my nerves were too rattled to operate a vehicle. “Okay,” I answered. “Thank you.”
Ten minutes later, we were on our way to the hospital, and as I watched the world fly by while Bethany drove, I did something I hadn’t done since Reed came clean about his infidelity.
I prayed.
“She’s okay,” my brother announced, causing Bethany and me to exhale a sigh of relief.
He’d just emerged from Mom’s room in the ER, looking battered and a little frazzled but otherwise fairly put together.
“You’re sure?” I asked, my heart still a little worse for wear.
Nodding, he took a seat next to his wife. “She has a fever—a pretty high one. It’s not uncommon with cancer patients. But they believe it’s what caused her to pass out. That, and maybe some dehydration.”
“Is she awake?” I asked.
“Yes. Slightly groggy but awake,” he answered. “She’s asking for you.”
“Okay.” I stood, feeling a tad wobbly from the events of the day but I followed my brother nonetheless.
He notified the attendant, and we were buzzed back immediately. I wasn’t a fan of hospitals. They reminded me of death and sorrow, but right now, I tried to focus on the positive.
She’s awake.
She’s okay.
There’s still hope.
My brother, seemingly well acquainted with the emergency room, led us to a small room. The curtains were pulled tight, so I had to wait until we entered to see her.
With her eyes half-closed, her familiar face seemed almost unrecognizable from the woman I’d held mere weeks ago.
How had I not noticed how weak she’d become?
“Hey, Mom,” I said softly.
“Hi, sweetheart.”
“I’m going to let you two have a moment while I go check on my wife.”
“Thank you, Jack,” she said.
Giving a short nod, he stepped back out, leaving us alone. The machine monitoring her vitals beeped in the background, mimicking the steady sound of her heart.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, taking a seat in the empty chair near her bed.
“Tired and a little embarrassed, but otherwise okay. I think they have me on some pain medicine. I feel kind of funny.”
“Embarrassed? Why?”
“For causing such a fuss. I know it couldn’t have been easy on you three.”
The sound of her voice made my chest hurt. It was weak and softer than normal.
Had I caused this? Had I pushed too hard, demanded too much?
“I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“Whatever for?” she asked.
“For everything. For being mad, for not understanding your wishes. For not calling sooner.”
“Oh Elle, come here,” she demanded, holding out her hand.
I, of course, went immediately, reaching out for her like a lifeline.
Like a small child in need of her mommy.
But I wasn’t little anymore.
I was a grown woman, and I needed to act like one.
“None of this is your fault,” she began. “I was the stubborn old woman who caused all this.”
“No, Mom. You were just doing what you thought was best. I get that now.”
“I should have told you.”
“And I should have respected your wishes,” I replied.
“What do you mean?”
“When I found out about the cancer, I didn’t take into account what you wanted. I just barreled ahead, hell-bent on finding an answer. I never stopped to ask if this was what you really wanted, and now, I see the toll it’s taking on you.”
She squeezed my hand in her own. “You know what the first thought was when I woke up in this hospital bed today?”
“What?”
“Thank God I’m still alive.” Tears welled up in my eyes as I listened to her speak. “I’ll admit, I had all but given up before you arrived. I had made peace with my fate, focusing only on cherishing the time I had. But then I realized something. I’m not done yet. I’m not ready to go.”
“Really?” My eyes blurred with tears.
“There is a lot left on my to-do list. I have another grandchild on the way, and I still haven’t gone to Europe. And then there’s you.”
“Me?”
“I want to see you happy again.”
“Oh, Mom. Don’t worry about me. I’m—”
“Miserable,” she said, interrupting me. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You stare at that phone like its chocolate from Godiva and you’re on a diet. Every time it chimes, I see your face light up and fall, all at the same time.”
“It’s not important, Mom. This is. You getting better—it’s all I care about.”
“Then, go be happy. I can get better all by myself now. I’m ready. I’m determined.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off, “What is holding you back?”
“You, silly!” I answered. “I can’t just leave.”
“I’m giving you permission to go!”
I swallowed my doubt. “I’m not ready to go yet.”
“Why? And don’t say me again because we both know that’s bullshit.”
“Mom!” I exclaimed, nearly knocked back by her foul language. I didn’t think I’d ever heard her cuss in my entire life.
What had they given her in this IV?
“I’m calling Sally in the morning,” she announced. “She’s been dying to visit, and this will be the perfect excuse.”
“You’re firing me?”
A slight smile crept across her face. “Yes. Now, go back to your real life and make me some grandkids.”
Now I really wanted to know what drugs she was on.
“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t go back. I’m too scared.”
Rather than asking why again, she just stared me down. For being so small and frail, the intimidation she could cause with those eyes was truly amazing.
“I don’t know if I know how to trust anymore,” I finally blurted out, feeling like a giant weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
Trust.
It was the reason I’d clung to the store during my father’s illness. It was the reason I’d run from Sawyer, too scared to see what might be between us.
“I lost something in the divorce,” I explained. “Now I find myself second-guessing everyone, including myself. How do I know I’m making the right choice?”
“You never truly know, sweetheart. Life is always a gamble.”
“I trusted Reed, Mom. I trusted myself that he was the one, and then everything fell apart. Hell, Nana trusted her gut and fell for her brother-in-law, and we know how that ended. Why should my situation be any different?”
“Because you choose to make it different,” she said, still gripping my hand in her own. “Your nana made a decision—that is true—but I don’t think you’re focusing on the right one. She might have walked away from her affair, but it was the decision to rejoin her marriage that needs your attention.”
“But Papa was already gone,” I said. “She spoke at length about how far gone his memory was. It was the reason she strayed in the first place.”
“Yes, but she came back. She remembered. You don’t remember those last few years he was alive, but I do. I remember the devotion she gave him—it wasn’t out of obligation, as you might believe. When he died, she mourned the loss like a woman in love.”
“She ended it with William because she still loved Papa?”
“We’ll never know for sure, but that’s what I choose to believe. Look at the letter she wrote. Read it again. I know you assume she’s speaking of William, but I hear her in my head. I hear her steady voice. She chose love; it’s just not the one you’re thinking of. My parents’ marriage wasn’t a perfect one—Lord knows if there’s even such a thing—but if there is one thing I learned from them, it is that love isn’t easy.”
“You can say that again,” I echoed.
“You asked me how I knew Daddy was the one? It wasn’t one single thing, sweetheart. There wasn’t a day or a feeling that pushed me in his direction. It was the knowledge that both of us were in it for the long haul. That we could make it work if we tried.”
“So, there’s no magic answer? I can’t cast a spell or consult a psychic to find out whether Sawyer is the one?”
She shook her head, amused by my words. “Nope. Sorry. All you can do is choose him. Choose him every day. Work for it. Fight for your love.”
“So, you think I should call him?” I grinned.
“No,” she answered, surprising me. “You should go to him.”
My heart fluttered at the thought.
Was I ready?
To take the plunge? To do the work?
To trust again?
There was only one way to find out.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that love is a messy sort of thing. There’s no one clear-cut path, and perhaps I took the wrong one.
But I chose.
With my nana’s words clear in my head, I leaped. The following day, after a tearful good-bye to my mom and brother, I was off, heading back to the life and the man I’d left behind. I didn’t know what the world had in store for us. I didn’t even know if he was mine anymore, but I was ready to find out.
Well, mostly ready.
I’d nearly chickened out and turned around about a dozen times already. But as the distance between us shortened, I felt renewed in my decision.
This was going to work.
Not because it was some preordained, cosmic plan. Not because we were fated to be together.
But because we would make it work.
Failure was not an option.
Using the fancy voice commands in my car, I called Candace to announce the good news.
“Hey! Guess who’s coming home,” I said when she picked up.
“Oh, really? I’m so glad! I missed you!” Her voice was high-pitched, matching her enthusiastic words.
“I missed you too.”
“Did you miss anyone else?” she pressed.
“Yes,” I answered. “More than I realized.”
“Aww, that’s so adorable.”
I swallowed, my nerves beginning to get the best of me. “Have you, um, heard from him at all?”
Yes, I’d admit it. I was fishing for information. It wasn’t my finest moment, but I wanted to know what I was walking into.
Was he mad? Did I need to grovel?
Should I prepare for the worst?
“Um, nope,” she answered. “Not at all.”
Well, crap.
“I guess with the store closed, you wouldn’t really see much of him around town.”
“Right,” she agreed. “Plus, I’ve been busy. Like, really super busy.”
Her words made sense, but the way she’d said them sounded odd. Maybe I was just being paranoid. “Okay then. Well, I will see you in a bit.”
“Any idea when? I’d love to drop by tonight and catch up.”
“Maybe in a few hours, if traffic behaves. I’m hoping to be home for dinner.”
“Perfect,” she simply stated before adding, “See you then!”
We said our good-byes after that, and I focused on the road ahead. I also made a plan. There was nothing better than a good plan.
Thankfully, the traffic gods blessed me with a fairly uneventful ride, and just as the sun was beginning to set, I passed the town limits.
It felt like forever since I’d driven down Main Street.
In actuality, it had only been three weeks, but it felt like an eternity.
So much had changed.
I’d fled my home in search of answers.
I’d run into the arms of my mother, seeking guidance, and although she hadn’t given me the answers I’d hoped for, she’d told me exactly what I needed to hear.
Believing in love really didn’t make it real.
Hoping, dreaming, and fantasizing about a happy life were the ideals of a child.
A real woman made it so.
As I drove toward home, having to go through most of town to do so, I passed by Timeless Treasures. I hadn’t planned on stopping. My to-do list consisted of making a brief stop home before chasing down my man.
But doing a double take, I saw the lights were on in the store.
“What the hell?” I murmured, pulling off the road to park in front.
Surely I hadn’t left those on for three weeks. That would be one epic electricity bill.
