“I chose nothing.”
David was silent for several long moments. “It’s your choice to make, but I wouldn’t have made the same one.”
Lee was quick to protest. “You can’t say that until you’ve walked in my shoes.”
“Perhaps. You know I met my wife at her brother’s funeral, right? I’d gone to B.C. to officiate at Conor’s funeral, and it was there I met Camille. We were brought together through shared grief, but I’ve always believed there was a greater hand in our meeting. From what I’ve gleaned from Eli and Rhi, you and Gaëlle bonded over shared grief as well. Perhaps the same hand was at work?”
“Her grief is much older.”
“My point being that she understood what initially took you north to Donegal. I imagine that if she is all you claim, she understands what drove you into the night as well.”
“You’re saying I should go back?”
David shrugged. “That’s your call, Lee. I’m just saying that I doubt the door you shut is as firmly closed as you think.”
Lee smiled at Eli as they finished their dance. “Go dance with your bride, son. At least your feet will be safe.”
Eli glanced over to where Liz had concluded her dance with David. “Thanks, Lee. And thanks again for your wonderful toast. It was beautiful. I could almost feel Mom here with us. ”
“I know I was speaking for both of us.” Lee hugged her son and walked off the dance floor as Eli went to claim Liz. Rather than rejoin the head table, she navigated through the throng to the table at the edge of the dance floor, where her friends were sitting.
“Hey, Lee. Pull up a chair.”
“Thanks, Rhi. Marika, Terry, Jan...are you guys having a good time?”
A chorus of yeses answered.
Lee snagged an unused chair from another table and sat down.
Marika threw an arm over Lee’s shoulder. “Kudos, my friend. It’s been a terrific wedding and reception. Eli and Liz look so happy.”
“Thanks. Yeah, the kids did us all proud.”
“And you did them proud. That toast made me cry.” Jan’s eyes sparkled.
Lee grinned to herself. She suspected her friends had been enjoying multiple toasts at their table. “Thanks, Jan. I wanted Eli to know how proud of him Dana always was.”
Terry nodded towards Eli and Liz as they danced past their table. “He certainly knows now, if he didn’t before.”
Lee smiled at Terry and changed the subject. “I imagine you’re all enjoying a night out without the little ones, eh?”
She then sat back and quietly listened as the four mothers plunged into what had apparently been an ongoing discussion of the difficulties in finding reliable babysitters. It wasn’t long before her mind drifted. A bump against her arm recalled Lee to the present. She blinked at Rhiannon. “You elbowed?”
“I did. My wife asked you if you wanted to dance, and you were a million miles away.”
“Oh, sorry, Marika. Sure, I’d love to dance.”
Marika led Lee to the floor for a slow turn. “So where were you, old friend?”
“Sorry?”
Marika chuckled. “I think you’re still there. You’re being very quiet tonight. Everything all right?”
“Sure. Just thinking, I guess.”
“About?”
“Dana. Wil. This and that.”
“Mmm. Did you ever consider asking ‘this and that’ to the wedding?”
“I couldn’t. Too much water under the bridge.”
Marika stopped dancing and led Lee out of the hall, past a group of smokers, and into the fresh air. Marika stopped at a bench and took a seat. “Okay, Lee. The only thing you told us when you got home was that you’d decided you needed to resume your real life and get back to work. Rhi and I knew there was more to it, but we figured we’d let you have some time. Time is now officially up, so spill it. What happened in Donegal?”
“I fell in love.”
“That’s not surprising. I could sense it coming on when I talked to you. I’m sorry. We all know the dangers of falling for a straight woman who can’t love us back.”
“No, you don’t understand. She made the first move. She loves...she loved me, too.”
“But that’s wonderful! Then why isn’t she here meeting all of us tonight?”
“It’s a long story.”
Marika patted the bench beside her. “Sit; tell me.”
Lee repeated the story she’d told David that afternoon. Her sense of shame hadn’t diminished with the telling, but Marika withheld judgment as she listened.
“We were an hour away from becoming lovers, and I threw it all away. The most amazing woman I’ve met since...well, since Dana...and I treated her so badly that I’d never forgive me.”
“You do have a problem with self-forgiveness.”
Lee laughed bitterly. “Gaëlle would probably say that’s one of my karmic lessons.”
“She really sounds like a fascinating woman. Are you sure—?”
Lee didn’t give Marika a chance to finish that thought. “I’m sure. I’m not going to put myself in that position again.”
“Sweetie, I hate to tell you this, but at some point, each of us will die. It’s the human condition. Some day you are again going to be in a position to watch someone you love die. There’s just no getting around it.”
“Almost everyone I love is younger than me. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”
“So you’re really determined not to ever fall in love again?”
“I’m determined I’m going to stack the odds in my favour by not falling in love with someone who’s had cancer twice.”
“Oh, Lee. You know there are no guarantees. You know that. God forbid, but as young as she is, even Marnie could develop cancer. Life simply doesn’t come with assurances of health and longevity. You deal with whatever arises to the best of your ability. I know you know that. It’s the way you always lived before. What you don’t do is give up before you even take the field of battle. That’s so not you. You’ve lived large all your life. I hate to see you living small now out of fear.”
“Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone?”
“Not even Gaëlle?”
“No one. It’s my greatest shame.”
Marika put a comforting arm around Lee’s shoulders. “Go ahead. It’s not going to change the way I feel about our friendship.”
“At the end, I just wanted Dana to die. And it wasn’t to release her from her suffering. It was to stop my suffering.”
“Aw, sweetie, that’s pretty natural. You were utterly exhausted. It wasn’t like Dana had any chance of recovery. We all knew it was just a matter of time.”
“But I should’ve treasured every second with her. I should’ve held on tooth and nail until she couldn’t hold on any longer.”
“You did. You held on, you treasured your time with her, you did everything possible to make her last days as rich as they could be.”
Lee mumbled something.
“Pardon?”
Lee raised her head. “That last day...I told her she could go.”
“That was a kindness, not a cruelty. She was probably waiting for that.”
“But maybe she needed more time with us, or Eli needed more time with her. Maybe she left prematurely because of what I said.”
“That’s what’s been haunting you? Oh, Lee, no. You did nothing wrong. It was a terrible disease, and nothing you said or didn’t say made any difference. When it was Dana’s time to go, she left. That’s all.”
“I keep picturing Gaëlle in that hospital room, dying. I just don’t think I could be there for her the way I tried to be there for Dana. I think...I know I’d run, just like I ran from Donegal. I’m such a chicken-shit.”
“Lee Glenn, you stop that right now. You are no such thing. No, I don’t think leaving Donegal was your finest hour. I think you were in shock, and you made a bad decision. That doesn’t mean you’d make the same decision again.”
“I might.
”
“True, you might. But given how hard you’ve been on yourself for the mistakes you have made, I think you’ve inoculated yourself against making them again. Let me ask you something. Say you’re right. Say that your worst fears were realized and Gaëlle succumbed to a third bout with cancer.”
Lee shuddered and shook her head.
“It could be a year or five or ten down the road. By rejecting her now to protect yourself, you not only deny the both of you potentially years of joy you could share by loving each other, you also deny her the chance to have you with her should the cancer return. Would you want a woman you love to endure her toughest trials without you?”
“She has family. She wouldn’t be alone.”
“No, she wouldn’t. But think how Dana would’ve felt without you. We’d all have been there for her. No question. But the one person who loved her above all else, who knew her more intimately than any living human being, would’ve been missing.” Marika slid a comforting hand up Lee’s back and through her hair.
Lee’s head dropped lower. Her voice was a whisper. “It’s agonizing to even contemplate it.”
Memory of Gaëlle’s touch overwhelmed Lee, and her tears began to flow.
Marika handed Lee a couple of tissues.
Lee sat upright, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. Then she looked at Marika’s sleek, form-fitting dress in amazement. “Where on earth were you carrying tissues?”
“Don’t ask. I have a two-year-old, remember? I’ve gotten very creative about such things.”
Lee began to laugh and found it hard to stop. Marika joined in, and the two were still chuckling when Rhiannon found them.
“Hey! I didn’t think you guys were going to vanish on me. What’s so funny?”
Lee stood and pulled Marika up with her. She slung an arm around each of her friends as they walked back to the hall. “Just life, Rhi. Just life.”
It was almost midnight when Lee dropped Marika and Rhiannon off at their home. They exited her SUV, arguing about who had to drive the babysitter home.
Lee was smiling as she drove home. Despite her earlier meltdown, she’d enjoyed the rest of the reception. There had been a bittersweet moment when Eli and Liz left the hall. Lee felt like a big part of her life had abruptly ended, but the melancholy passed swiftly. She’d danced and socialized and behaved like any other mother of the groom.
Lee pulled into her garage and got out with the suit jacket slung over her arm. She lingered in the doorway and enjoyed the cool night air. Even with air conditioning, it had gotten very hot in the crowded hall.
By the time Lee turned to go inside, the automatic light was off and the garage was in darkness. As she went around her vehicle, Lee bumped into the old Suzuki she and Eli had spent hours tinkering with. Lee grabbed the bike so it didn’t fall off its stand.
“Geez, and I didn’t even have a drink tonight.”
She rested her fingers on the familiar curves of the cool metal. It had been a long time since she’d taken it for a drive.
“Tomorrow. How about you and I go for a drive out to the mountains tomorrow?”
Lee patted the bike and moved toward the door. She hit the remote on the wall to close the door. The garage was again dimly illuminated by the automatic light.
She turned in the doorway. Her gaze fixed on her bike, then moved to her riding leathers hanging on the wall over her boots.
“I’m certifiably insane to even think about it.”
She stood for a few moments more and then tossed her jacket to the floor just inside the house. Lee pulled out her cellphone and hit Willem’s number. It went directly to voice mail.
“Wil, hi, it’s me. Give Ann the promotion and my office. I’ll be in touch, and we’ll figure out how to work the financial stuff later. Love you, man. I’m out of here.”
Within moments, Lee had pulled her leathers on and donned her boots and helmet. She smacked the remote to open the garage door and backed the motorcycle out. Lee closed the door, started the bike, and rolled out of the driveway.
The old Suzuki sped down the street as laughter hung on the night air.
Chapter 15
The summer dawn found Lee closing in on Donegal. She knew she should be exhausted, but a deep, pervasive peace had filled her from the moment she left the city limits and pointed the bike north. That peace had carried her through the night hours.
Lee had no idea what she would say to Gaëlle. She wasn’t sure whether Gaëlle would even see her. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t a trip simply to make amends.
She didn’t fill the long night hours with plans or projections, wishes or fears. Lee’s mind dwelled on memories—recent memories of Gaëlle and their hours working on the labyrinth and more distant memories of her life with Dana. With every mile that rolled beneath her tires, the bitter faded and the sweet remained.
By the time Lee drove through Donegal, slowed, and made the turn onto the gravel road that would take her to Gaëlle, she was in a state of meditative calm.
What happens, will happen. All Lee knew for certain was that, this time, she would not run.
It occurred to Lee that the first time she’d made this trip, it had been dusk.
Today, it was dawn.
Just when Lee was due to take the last turn before reaching Gaëlle’s driveway, she noticed something ahead on the side of the road. She smiled and slowed as she recognized Wally’s cart.
Lee spotted Wally stooped over to pick up something in the ditch. She coasted to a stop and saw him straighten with an empty beer bottle in his hand.
Wally dropped the bottle into a bag tied to the side of the cart and then ambled toward her. Lee turned off the bike and removed her helmet.
Wally beamed. “Roam, home.”
“That’s right. I’m home. At least I hope I am. Is she okay?”
Wally sobered. “Star, bad sad. Cry, cry.”
Lee hung her head, then looked up with renewed determination. “I made a mistake. I regret that more than I can ever say, but I’m going to forgive myself for my fear and weakness, and I hope she will forgive me, too.”
Wally nodded vigorously. “Forgive, give. Heart, star. Over moon, soon.”
“I wanted to apologize to you, too, Wally. I’m very sorry for manhandling you the night I left.”
A thought struck Lee, and she unzipped her leather jacket. She still wore her formal shirt and vest beneath. Inside the vest pocket was the wedding favour she’d snagged off the table before leaving with Marika and Rhiannon. She’d meant to give it to them to pass along to Marnie, but it had slipped her mind.
Lee offered Wally the candies wrapped in lace net and tied with an elegant black and white ribbon. “These are from my son’s wedding last night.”
Wally accepted the gift and cradled the small package in his hands. He grinned at Lee. “Wacky wombat.”
“Oh, great. Gaëlle gets to be a star. I get to be a wombat.”
Wally reacted to Lee’s teasing with a hiccupping laugh, then he quieted and delicately untied the ribbon. He dropped the candies in his pocket, turned so his right sleeve was toward Lee, and held out the ribbon.
Lee saw where several small pins were attached to an open space on the sleeve. Shreds of ribbon still hung from two of the pins, and she realized it was where she’d accidentally torn Wally’s ribbons when making her escape.
With great solemnity, Lee accepted the ribbon and pinned it to his sleeve. When the small ceremony was completed, she rested her hands on his shoulders and looked into his intense, pale eyes. “I promise this, my friend. If she can overlook my flaws and give me another chance, I’ll never let her down again. If she can’t, I’ll understand and I’ll leave. I’m not sure where I’d go, but I do know it’s time for a new life.”
Wally’s expression softened, and he patted Lee’s arms affectionately. “Rebirth, mirth. Go home. Go home.”
“You’re absolutely right. It’s time to go home.” She gave Wally a quick hug and walked back to he
r bike.
Lee eased her bike around Wally’s cart, careful not to spray gravel. She raised a hand in response to his enthusiastic waves and then steadied the bike for the remainder of her journey.
As she turned into Gaëlle’s driveway, Lee throttled down and idled to a full stop. She removed her helmet and sat on her bike. It was quiet. There was no sign of light or life.
Lee hesitated. She’s probably still asleep. Lee decided she should wait on the porch until someone woke up. She didn’t want to compound the boorishness of her drastic departure with a rude return.
Suddenly, the more than twenty-two hours of wakefulness hit Lee, and she wearily closed her eyes. Then, just as abruptly, a surge of energy swept over her, and her eyes snapped open.
Lee dismounted and put the bike on the stand. She stripped off her jacket and tossed it across the seat. Without hesitation, she began walking, past the house and out to the back fields on a route she could’ve walked in her sleep.
Long before she reached the labyrinth, Lee could see Gaëlle standing in the centre, facing the rising sun with her head thrown back. Her hair was loose, and the wind lifted and tossed silver strands, the movement in stark contrast to Gaëlle’s absolute stillness.
Lee stopped at the threshold stone and waited.
Within seconds Gaëlle began to slowly turn, like a compass needle seeking north. Her legs pressed against the stone bench, and Lee could see that her eyes were still closed.
Gaëlle’s eyes opened. She looked directly at Lee. Her expression was calm, neither welcoming nor rejecting. She waited.
Lee stepped onto the threshold stone and closed her eyes. She had seen Gaëlle take this walk many times. Now, it was her turn.
Lee took a deep breath and reached for an elusive freedom from thought. Without a word, she opened her eyes and began to pace at a deliberate speed. She focused on the stone beneath her feet, the fields that stretched to the horizon, the grey clouds that filtered the early morning sunshine, and the gusts that cooled her face.
Walking the Labyrinth Page 20
