by Cheree Alsop
“I don’t want to forget.”
Chase bowed his head in understanding. “You won’t. It’s part of you whether you like it or not. Our pain makes us who we are just as much as every other experience we have. You’ll never forget, but you can live without forgetting.”
Daniel nodded, his eyes on the floor. Tears dripped slowly from his chin onto his black tee-shirt. He wiped them from his cheeks with his hand.
“Do you need a moment?” Chase asked gently.
Daniel nodded and turned away without a word.
Chase ran his fingers down the blue guitar’s strings. Martin took his cue and strummed his guitar with practiced fingers. Chase fiddled through chords for a moment, then started to quietly sing the verse that had been running through his head. “The words I’d say, aimed at her picture in the frame, lost in every little slope, brings you to life as I hold your hand in my mind. And what is real? Real are these feelings that I feel as I dream of you dancing in my arms, falling in love.”
Chase kept his face expressionless when he heard the bass kick on behind him. Daniel picked up the notes easily, playing the chords with barely a mistake. Chase kept singing, “What is love? You give it away every time you look my way. You see my soul, and I realize it’s no longer mine but yours since the first time I looked into your eyes.” Martin began a solo while Chase and Daniel kept the rhythm.
Movement out of the corner of his eye caught Chase’s attention. He looked up to see Mr. and Mrs. Clark and Clara standing in the garage doorway watching them. Tears were sliding down Mrs. Clark’s face as she watched her son play the guitar for the first time in two years. Mr. Clark met Chase’s eyes and mouthed the words ‘thank you’, his own gaze bright. Chase nodded and kept playing in time to the brothers’ rhythm.
***
Later that night, long after he, Martin, and Daniel had played themselves to exhaustion, Chase made his way out to the porch to catch some fresh night air before bed. The old grandfather clock in the living room tolled one in the morning as Chase walked quietly past. He fought back a smile at the sight of Grandma and Grandpa Clark fast asleep in the hideabed. Grandma had her head on Grandpa’s shoulder, and he held her close even in sleep with a hand wrinkled and worn with age around her shoulders. Chase was careful to shut the front door behind him quickly to keep the crisp winter breeze from disturbing them.
He settled on the porch swing with a sigh of relief. It had been a long, strange day. His knee throbbed less, but his heart ached more. He rested his head in his hands, wondering if he would ever really understand what he did when he forced himself to go back down the alley that night.
The scamper of not-so-dainty feet heralded the arrival of Bailey whose amazing radar had somehow alerted him that there was a person on the porch amiable to a game of fetch. Chase looked up, surprised that there was a dog willing to chase a dirty tennis ball through the snow at one in the morning. The white German Shepherd dropped the ball at Chase’s feet, then nudged it with his nose as if he questioned Chase’s ability to understand his first hint.
Chase picked up the ball, winced when his ribs reminded him to be careful, and stood up. He looked out across the dark, snow-covered front lawn, then back at Bailey. “You sure about this?” he asked.
The dog woofed in response, his tail wagging wildly with anticipation.
“Okay,” Chase replied. He heaved the ball out across the lawn and into the cover of darkness.
With surprising agility for a dog so big, Bailey leapt off the porch clearing all of the stairs and galloped through the snow after the ball. Chase sat back down to await the inevitable return.
Bailey brought the ball back three times and was searching for the fourth throw. Chase was debating whether he should disappear before the dog returned when the front door opened. Turning, he saw Clara walking toward him, a blanket in her arms.
“Are you trying to freeze to death?” she asked. She sat next to him and spread the blanket over them both without waiting for his answer.
Bailey returned with the snow covered ball held triumphantly in his mouth. He gave it to Chase, then trotted to the edge of the porch, his ears pricked expectantly. “I’m indulging in something I’ve never done before,” Chase replied with a sheepish grin before he chucked the ball back across the lawn.
“You’ve never played fetch?” Clara asked in surprise.
Chase sat back down, hid a smile when she insisted on covering him with the blanket again, and shook his head. “My father wasn’t much of an animal person.”
“Oh,” Clara replied. They were quiet for a few moments, then she said, “You did an amazing thing for Daniel. I can never thank you enough for that.”
“Daniel is a good person,” Chase replied.
“So are you,” Clara pressed.
Chase shook his head, stood up, and walked to the porch railing. He stared out at the starlit darkness. His breath made small clouds in the winter chill as he fought back all the bitterness, self-deprecation, and guilt that rose at her comment. He was so lost in his fight for control that he jumped when she touched his arm. He looked at her, his expression bare and vulnerable.
“Was that song about me?” Clara asked quietly, looking up at him. Her green eyes caught the twinkle of the stars and glittered brightly.
Chase stared at her for a moment, then turned away and ran a hand through his hair to clear his mind. “Yes,” he finally said so softly that she barely heard him. She was quiet for a minute and he listened to her soft breath behind him. In that moment, he wanted to stand there forever just knowing how close she was, how important it was that she hadn’t walked away when he told her the truth about the song even though his mind screamed for him not to. He couldn’t lie, not to her.
“Chase?”
He turned back slowly, hesitantly, his blue eyes cautious.
She smiled and reached up to brush the hair back from his eyes with a gentle touch. “That’s a good haircut,” she said softly in a teasing tone.
He nodded with a slight smile. “She knew what she was doing.”
Clara nodded. “Yes, she did.” She tipped her chin up and kissed him, catching him off guard.
He froze for a moment in surprise, then returned the kiss. He wove his hands in her long brown hair and held her close, their blanket falling unnoticed to the ground.
After a few minutes, Bailey returned and tactlessly thrust his wet nose, complete with the snow-covered tennis ball, between them. Clara let go of Chase and laughed. She picked up the ball and patted Bailey’s head with a warm smile on her face.
Chase watched her, mixed feelings warring in his chest. “I’d better go.”
Clara’s smile fell. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she said.
Chase shook his head quickly. “No, not at all,” he replied. He gave her a small, shy smile. “It was wonderful, actually.” At her returning smile, he dropped his eyes and shook his head again. “I promised myself long ago that I’d never get involved with anyone, never be part of a family again.” He met her eyes, his own full of pain. “It really did destroy us, having them taken like that. It makes you question things like God, hope, and even love, because what good is love if all it does is tear your soul apart when it’s taken away?”
She touched his arm softly. “But what good is a life without love?”
He turned his face from hers. “A safe life,” he said finally to the empty night beyond the porch.
She stood quietly behind him. Snowflakes drifted down from the clouding night sky. Bailey woofed impatiently and Clara tossed the ball into the yard. The big dog leaped after it, his claws scraping along the porch before he jumped into the snow.
Clara turned so that she stood next to Chase watching the big flakes settle to the ground with a barely audible whoosh. “But is it a worthwhile life?” she asked after some time had gone by. It was a question both knew she didn’t expect an answer for.
She shivered. Without a word, Chase picked up the blanket and wrapped i
t around her shoulders. He hesitated, then put his arms around her. She leaned against his chest. The scent of the peach shampoo and sweet pea lotion she used touched Chase’s nose. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding. “I’m not good at this,” he said finally.
He heard her give a faint chuckle. “Saving my life and my brother’s was a good start,” she said. “The rest is just frillery.”
“Frillery?”
She nodded. “Like ornaments on trees and lights on houses; it’s fun and all, but it’s just frillery compared to the true meaning of Christmas.” She turned in his arms so that she faced him. She had a small, worried frown on her face as if afraid she had offended him. “I forgot you don’t like Christmas.”
Chase smiled down at her. “Actually, it doesn’t seem so bad this year.”
He was rewarded with a glowing smile. She laid her head against his chest. “Really, why is that?” she asked. He detected a hint of teasing in her tone.
“Oh, I can think of a couple reasons,” he replied.
She smiled again and leaned against him. He held her in comfortable silence. They watched the snowflakes fall softly in the night. A gentle wind toyed through the porch light, sending flakes in a miniature whirlwind about their feet. Chase held Clara closer. She loosened his hold gently and put the blanket around his shoulders, then stepped back into the warmth of his embrace. He held the blanket close, surrounding them both in a warmth that shut out all cold.
***
When they went to bed a few hours later, the sun was just starting to lighten the sky. Thick, grey clouds held the promise of more snow before evening and fought to keep the early sunlight from reaching the new snow of the night.
When Chase settled onto his bed, he wasn’t tired at all. Conversations from the night kept playing themselves over in his head, but most of all, he kept seeing her smile, the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, and the pink hue of her cheeks from the bite of the night’s chill. He found himself loving the way she became so animated when she got to a particularly exciting or important part of a story she was telling.
She kept asking to hear about him, but when he was reluctant to tell her, she relented and answered his questions about her instead. He was amazed at the fact that she had gotten through school with high marks and actually enjoyed it. He asked her about her friends, and smiled again at the thought of her blush when she told him about her first crush.
She avoided telling him about Eric, though the thought of her boyfriend lingered in the back of Chase’s mind. He felt like he was intruding and had to keep reminding himself that she was the one who had kissed him. The taste of that kiss still lingered on his lips, haunting him.
In a flash, he saw one of the few memories he had of his parents. His mom and dad had just tucked Chase and Andy into bed in the room they shared. Mom flipped the lights off and Dad surprised her with an unexpected kiss. Chase could see their figures silhouetted in the doorframe; it made him giggle when it happened, but now it grabbed his heart with icy claws. He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, his jaw clenched tight.
Chapter 8
They wandered with the whole family at the mall the next day, walking down the long, seemingly endless hallways. Matty, Isabelle, and Kavin chased each other in circles around the group of adults. Clara took Chase’s hand, surprising him by her openness around her parents, but they didn’t seem to notice.
When the group wandered after the children through a Christmas display complete with live penguins, a small reindeer, and several fake elves, Chase waited at the entrance. To his surprise, Grandpa waited with him.
“Don’t like penguins?” Chase asked.
“Allergic to reindeer,” Grandpa replied.
They watched the droves of excited children and stoic parents file past in anticipation of the hearty Santa Claus who waited at the end of the display with a willing ear and candy canes for the good little girls and boys, and probably the bad ones, too.
“I’m glad you and Clara are getting along so well,” Grandpa said without prelude.
“She’s amazing,” Chase replied. He glanced at Grandpa out of the corner of his eye.
“She’s special; my favorite grandchild actually.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Grandparents aren’t supposed to have favorites, but she’s so genuine and caring. She used to crawl up on my knee and we’d read stories together for hours when she was little.”
Chase smiled at the thought. “That must be where her love for books started.”
Grandpa nodded proudly. “My little novice.” He then sighed and shook his head. “But she seems stuck right now. In high school, she had so much direction and ambition. She wanted to go to college, get married, earn a degree, raise a family, everything a young girl aspires to.” His white eyebrows lowered, troubled. “But after high school, she couldn’t decide where to go. When Daniel’s friend died, she felt she couldn’t leave him, and then she just lingered. Eric lingered with her, ever faithful by her side.” He glanced at Chase. “You know that he asks her to marry him every Christmas?”
Chase’s heart slowed. “Really?”
Grandpa shrugged. “But she always says no. She told me once that she wants to, mostly, and that it makes sense. Eric is successful working with his father and is very dependable, but something holds her back.” He nudged Chase with his elbow. “Maybe that something is you.”
Chase laughed incredulously. “You mean you think she kept saying no because she knew some homeless guy in an alley would save her and then be hopelessly drawn to her even though he had nothing to offer?” He shook his head, a tight pit in his stomach. “I don’t think so.”
“She ended it with Eric,” Grandpa said gently, watching his reaction.
Chase froze. “She did?” His head whirled with the implications. “But why? What happened? I thought they were a couple.” His voice lowered, “I didn’t want to ruin anything.”
Grandpa held up his hand to stop Chase’s questions. “Whoa, now. This was nothing you did. Their relationship was on the rocks before you came into the picture.” He shrugged. “I guess you can say you just helped the inevitable along quicker.”
Chase dropped his gaze to the ground. “I’m sorry.”
Grandpa Clark laughed and shook his head. “I’m not! She’s felt stuck for so long; now she says she feels like someone just gave her wings.”
“She could do anything, be with anyone,” Chase said quietly.
“I know,” Grandpa replied, his eyebrows raised. “And she chose you!”
A sinking feeling washed over Chase. “She deserves better,” he admitted out loud.
Grandpa Clark studied Chase’s solemn expression for a moment, then led him over to one of the nearby benches. “Sit down, son,” he said, patting the empty seat beside him. Chase sat down, his eyes on the entrance to the Christmas exhibit. “Chase.” Grandpa waited until Chase met his eyes. “Our women might deserve better men, but they chose us. I struggled with this for a while with my Molly, also. But eventually, I realized that the best thing I could do was to be the one she deserved. I’ve worked at that my whole life, and we’ve been very happy.”
Chase thought about it for a minute and was about to reply when Matty came running out of the entrance to the display, his face white. They were both rising when he spotted them. “Grandpa, Chase, come quick. Something’s wrong with Dad!”
***
At the hospital, everyone was solemn and silent. Clara sat by Chase and held his hand as though it was the only thing keeping her from breaking down. Mrs. Clark sat between Ilene and Grandma, tears running down all of their faces. Grandpa and Sam talked quietly on the couch while Daniel and Martin stood by the waiting room door watching for the doctor. Matty waited stoically with his brothers, his hand clutched in Daniel’s. Daniel seemed more withdrawn than Chase had ever seen him. He knew without asking that this was the hospital where they had brought Ryan.
When the doctor finally arrived, the family grouped arou
nd him anxiously. “Matthew Clark is having some problems with his heart that could be potentially life-threatening,” the doctor said.
“What happened?” Mrs. Clark asked, her face pale.
The doctor glanced at the children, then continued, “He’s had a heart attack and is being prepped for surgery as we speak. We’ll know better what we’re dealing with in a short while. I’ll send a nurse out with an update when we have more information.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Mrs. Clark said, her hands knotted together as she fought to retain her composure.
The doctor nodded and left.
“Open heart surgery?” Daniel said the second the doctor was out of sight. His voice was laced with anger. “They’re cutting him open to see what’s wrong with his heart. Shouldn’t they know what’s happening by now?”
Matty ran to Mrs. Clark’s side and buried his face against her waist. “Daniel,” Mrs. Clark said with a gentle shake of her head.
Daniel sat down with his arms crossed to glare at the floor.
“Your father will be fine,” Mrs. Clark reassured her youngest son. She smoothed down Matty’s unruly hair. “He’s very tough.”
“Anyone can be tough until someone’s cutting at their heart with a knife,” Daniel muttered.
“He’ll be okay,” Sam reassured them. “I did my internship here, and Dr. Rassman is the best heart surgeon in the state.”
“You hear that, Matty,” Martin said. “Dad’s going to be alright.”
Matty nodded, but wouldn’t let go of his mom. She sat down on the couch and pulled him onto her lap. The others settled back down as well, prepared for a long wait.
Eventually, Matty fell asleep with his head pillowed against Mrs. Clark. Daniel was sprawled out on the chairs he had pulled together and was staring at the ceiling. Ilene kept Isabelle and Kavin occupied with some cars she pulled out of her seemingly bottomless purse, while Grandma held Paige as she slept.
