The Memory of You

by Catherine West

  When she reached the round room at the top of the stairs, she was out of breath and had to wait a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dim light. A musty smell crinkled her nose, but she smelled something else too. The distinct cheesy scent of Doritos.

  “Shoot.” Jason’s voice reached her first.

  “Natalie!” Jeni scrambled up and flung herself at Natalie.

  “Oh, Jeni.” Natalie crushed the little girl against her. “Thank God.” She leveled her gaze on Jason, huddled in one corner of the room. “Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been?”

  “You don’t—” he began.

  “Stop.” Natalie held up a hand. “Don’t say another word, young man.” She punched Tanner’s number into her phone. He picked up at once. “Got them. In the turret. Yes, they’re fine. Okay.” Jeni clung around her waist, her small frame trembling. Natalie hugged her again. Kissed her and breathed silent prayers of thanks. “Jase?” She met his eyes over his sister’s head.

  “Yeah?”

  “Downstairs. Now.”

  Five minutes later, Tanner burst into the house, followed by Rance, Brian, Sarah, and Jeffrey. Grandpa Hal was already in the kitchen fixing hot chocolate.

  Jeni ran to her uncle and Tanner swept her up with a groan of relief. “Jeni Bear, are you okay?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “You scared us all silly, baby.” Tanner sounded on the verge of tears and Natalie pushed back her own. Rance seemed to be having trouble, too, and she saw Brian push him toward a chair.

  Tanner set Jeni down and she ran to her grandmother. Tanner focused on Jason, his eyes blazing. “Let me guess. Your idea?”

  Jason huddled in a navy Gap hoodie, kicked the backpack by his feet, his face dark.

  Tanner crouched and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Why would you do something like this? I was just about to call the sheriff. If Natalie hadn’t found you, there would have been cops all over the county looking for you! Do you understand that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Do I get an explanation?” Tension smacked Tanner’s words and Natalie hoped he wouldn’t lose his temper. Much as Jason deserved it, anger probably wouldn’t help right now.

  “We don’t want to go to Seattle,” Jason said, his lower lip starting to tremble. He glanced at Rance and gave a shrug. “Sorry.”

  “You don’t want to go to Seattle.” Tanner straightened and tipped his head back. “Awesome. Well, okay, Jason. I guess you’re calling the shots from now on, huh? I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. So I’ll just stay home. Okay with you? Oh, and I don’t want to pay the bills either. So we won’t have any electricity next month. Okay with you?”

  “Tanner . . .” Sarah stepped forward, her mouth pinched. Jeffrey grabbed her hand and made her stay put.

  “You don’t get it,” Jason mumbled. He crossed his arms and stared at his sneakers.

  “No, I guess I don’t.” Tanner swore under his breath, but the room was so quiet everyone heard. “But guess what, neither do you. Did you think for one minute how Rance might feel tonight, getting to the house to pick you up and finding you gone?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Did you think about your sister, how traipsing off into the night might make her feel?”

  “No, sir.” Tears formed in the boy’s eyes.

  “Or the rest of us? Me, Natalie, your grandparents? Did you give any thought to how frantic we’d be, not knowing where you were? You’re a smart kid, Jase. You know the dangers. We’ve been looking for you for two hours! You know what can happen in two hours, Jason?”

  “Okay, Tanner.” Natalie didn’t want to intervene, but Jason was starting to cry. “He gets it.”

  Tanner took a breath and placed a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Apologize.”

  “Sorry.” Jason didn’t lift his head. Tanner did it for him.

  “Not to me. Your father is over there. Go and apologize to him.”

  Natalie wiped her eyes as Jason shuffled over to where Rance stood. She had to give the guy credit for maintaining his composure.

  “Um.” Jason’s voice cracked a bit. “I’m sorry for running away from you. I won’t do it again. And if we hafta go live with you, then I guess that’s okay. If Uncle Tanner says so.” He sniffed and knuckled his eyes.

  Rance nodded and put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I was really worried, Jason. I’m glad you’re both okay. But I’m not going to make you guys do anything you don’t want to do, all right?” He crouched a bit, brushed Jason’s cowlick back, and smiled. “Let’s talk about it some more. We’ll figure out a plan that makes everyone happy, okay?”

  “Maybe.” Jason shot a timid glance at Tanner, then looked back at Rance. “I got a soccer game tomorrow night. You can come if you want.”

  “Thanks, Jason. I’ll be there.” Rance straightened and Jason shrugged, walked back to Tanner, and looked up at him with the most forlorn expression Natalie had ever seen.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Tanner.”

  “Me too, bud.” Tanner exhaled, pulled his nephew against him, and held him as the boy cried.

  Thirty-Two

  TANNER SAT BY THE FIRE IN THE LIVING ROOM ON THURSDAY night and studied the flickering flames. He couldn’t sleep, so he lit a fire and thumbed through the pages of his Bible.

  He needed wisdom. Direction.

  He was all out of answers.

  Maybe God would finally come through with some.

  He couldn’t stop thinking of what might have happened to Jason and Jeni had they ventured farther than Hal’s the other night. He understood their fears. Yet as each day passed, he knew they were avoiding the only reasonable decision.

  Exhaustion fell heavy and he closed his eyes. Saw Rance piling the kids into a cab, saw himself running after them, yelling at them to stop, his mom yelling at him to stop . . .

  Déjà vu.

  But it wouldn’t be like that.

  Didn’t have to be like that.

  If only he’d cooperate . . .

  “Tanner?”

  Tanner startled to his mother’s voice. Daylight streamed through the windows and the fire was out. He must have dozed off.

  She was dressed, her hands around four stacked shoe boxes. “Have you been sitting here all night?”

  “Most of it.” He stretched his arms and tried to loosen the aching muscles in his neck.

  “Thinking about the kids?”

  “Yup.”

  “It’ll work out. We need to trust God in this.”

  “I’m trying, Mom, but it’s not easy.” Some days he had more faith. This week, with reality looming, his faith was dwindling.

  Mom placed a couple of cardboard boxes with the orange Nike stripe on the floor by his chair.

  “Shoe sale?” He tried to smile. “Did you get those for the kids?”

  “No. They’re for you.” She rested a hand on his arm until he looked her way.

  Did he need new running shoes?

  Maybe he did.

  He’d tie them tight and let them take him far away as fast as possible from this nightmare that had become his life. But mom’s expression told him there were no shoes in those boxes.

  “Mom?”

  “Your dad’s letters.”

  The letters that came without fail—once, sometimes twice a week, for years—since the day his father left.

  The letters Tanner never read.

  Refused to open.

  Eventually they stopped. His dad still called, and Tanner’s mom would force him to the phone, but over the years, he’d done a good job of pushing his father from his life and refusing all invitations to take part in his.

  “Why did you save those?”

  “I thought you might want them one day.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Tanner.”

  Determination in her tone dragged his eyes upward. “Do we have to do this?”

  “Yes.” She lowered herself onto the footstool beside him and placed her hand on his
knee. “You’ve blamed your father all these years, and I’m ashamed to admit, I let you. But there’s more to it than you know.”

  Tanner sat up in his chair, his mouth suddenly dry. “What are you talking about?”

  “Do you remember much about how Marnie was before they left?”

  “A bit.” He wanted to slam the brakes on this conversation before it got started.

  His mother sighed. “I refused to accept her bipolar diagnosis. For all my medical training, I couldn’t deal with her. I was in denial and it drove your dad nuts. He insisted on getting Marnie the help she needed. There was a clinic he’d found, but it was near your grandparents, across the state. He wanted us to move there, thought having their support would be good. I argued that there were plenty of places in Seattle she could get treatment. I didn’t want to move.” She wiped her eyes. “I was being stubborn. For a lot of reasons. But one night while you slept, we found Marnie in your room. With a knife.”

  The room shifted. Tanner stiffened, nausea rising. “Would she have . . . hurt me?”

  “I don’t know.” Mom shrugged. “I lost it at that point. Your father and I had reached an impasse. I basically told him to take her and go. Our marriage was over by then anyway, and I wanted it to be. He knew I’d never stopped loving Jeff. I loved your dad, in my own way, but—”

  “You kicked him out?”

  “It was a terrible time in my life, Tanner. I’ve regretted my actions ever since. The truth is, I turned my back on my own daughter. And my husband.”

  Tanner shook his head, tears pricking. “Is that why you let her come back to stay with us? To make up for it?”

  “In a way. I didn’t deserve a second chance with her, but I got one. I’ll always be grateful for the few years we had with Marnie, tumultuous as they were.” Her smile inched out. “Tanner, your dad didn’t abandon you. He wanted to protect you.”

  Tanner shook his head. “What does it matter now? We don’t have a relationship.” He’d taken care of that.

  “But you should have one.” She gripped his arm, her eyes shining. “Like it or not, Tanner, the kids are going to end up in Seattle. You’re going to have to spend time with your dad, and Rance, if you want to see the kids.”

  Mom rose and backed off. “Your father and Rance leave on Saturday. Brian and I have had a chance to work through things and get some closure. He hoped to do the same with you. But you’re still pushing him away. Sweetheart, I’m asking you . . . give him a chance. Forgive him. Forgive us both, and move on.”

  Tanner stared at her, old bitterness biting. “He’s moved on fine without me. What’s the point?”

  Mom leaned forward, brushed his hair back, and kissed him on the head like she had when he was a kid. “The point, my love, is that he’s still your father. And he loves you.”

  It was late afternoon when Tanner pulled into the parking lot of the Sonoma Mission Inn and Spa. The sprawling pink hotel always caught his eye. It had a great restaurant, and he’d wanted to take Natalie there for dinner. Maybe when all this was resolved, he would.

  He locked the truck and trudged toward the entrance. Inside the large foyer a fire burned in a massive stone fireplace. Guests milled about, some wearing white terrycloth robes, headed for the spa. Others lounged on comfortable sofas. The place looked like something out of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. He was so out of his element.

  Natalie wouldn’t be. He rolled his eyes. Could he stop thinking about her for five seconds?

  “Tanner?”

  He turned at the voice and knew at once he wasn’t prepared for this.

  Rance.

  “Are the kids okay?” The man pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, concern creasing his brow.

  Tanner cleared his throat and nodded. “They’re in school. They’re fine.” He swallowed down second thoughts. “We need to talk.”

  “Okay.” Rance eyed him, wary. “You want to sit?” He indicated open doors that led out to a patio.

  Outside, Tanner pulled up a metal chair and sank into it. The day had turned gray, threatening afternoon rain. There was an old man swimming in the pool nearby, nobody else around.

  Rance broke the silence. “I’m really sorry about Marnie. The whole situation.” He propped his elbows and rested his chin in his hands. “I screwed up big time with her.”

  Tanner clenched his jaw.

  “After I got clean, I imagined coming down here. Asking her to forgive me, starting over . . . we even talked a few times. Did she tell you that?”

  This was going to be harder than he thought. Tanner let out a shaky breath. “The only things Marnie said about you aren’t worth repeating.”

  “Yeah, I figured.” The guy had a nice smile. Warm and . . . like it or not, honest. “Funny, I was just headed up to my room to give you a call. I wanted to talk to you too.”

  Tanner crossed his arms. “You first then.”

  Rance smiled again. “So here’s the thing.” He splayed his hands on the table. “I won’t bore you with the whole God-brought-me-out-of-darkness spiel. I realize you could probably take me to court, fight for custody of the kids, and I imagine you’ve thought about it.” He lifted a shoulder in resignation.

  “The truth is, I was a lousy father, a lousy husband, and part of me was relieved when Marnie left. I couldn’t take the drama anymore. I was too wrapped up in my own world to worry about my family. By the time I came to my senses, it was too late. But I prayed for a second chance. Prayed for a way to make things right. Losing Marnie completely wasn’t what I had in mind.” He sniffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to lose my kids again. I want to make a life for them, a good one. But I won’t take them from you without your blessing. I’m not going to rip a family apart just because I’m legally entitled to do so.”

  Tanner sucked air and stared at the man across the table.

  Was Rance Harper really willing to walk away from his children if they’d be happier here? Was anybody really this good?

  “Have you talked to the kids, Rance? Asked them what they want?”

  “Yeah. We’ve talked.” His eyes shone with moisture. “They’re confused. They’re kids, Tanner. They love you. They love their grandmother. This is the only home they can remember. What am I supposed to do? Be the bad guy and force them to get on that plane with me?”

  That was exactly the traumatic scene Tanner imagined.

  He sat through the silence and watched a small sliver of light slice through the gray clouds.

  “What if I brought them?” It made more sense now than in the dead of night when he’d first considered the idea. “I could stay long enough to ease them into the transition. And afterward . . . I could visit some weekends, if it was okay with you. They’re good kids, they’ll adjust quickly . . . but that way it won’t . . .” He looked down at his hands, his eyes stinging. “It won’t seem like I’m abandoning them.” His throat filled with fire, making further speech impossible.

  “Are you serious?”

  Tanner tried to gauge the guy’s reaction. “Yeah.”

  “You would do that?” Rance’s eyes widened. “What about the winery?”

  “Jeff and Hal can man the fort while I’m gone. It wouldn’t be for long. Maybe just until the New Year.” Tanner leaned in a bit. “But there’s something—”

  “What if I relapse?” Rance said it for him. “I pray against that every day, Tanner. Trust me, if it happened, you’d be the first one I’d call.”

  “Okay.” He wasn’t completely at ease yet, but it would have to do. “I’ll start making plans.”

  Rance scratched his head and frowned. “You talk to your father about this?”

  Tanner let go a sigh and managed a smile. “He’s next on the list.”

  “Tanner.” His dad opened the door to his hotel room and backed up. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

  “No, I’m sure you didn’t.” Tanner scuffed his boots on the carpet and stared at his mirror image. “I was hoping we
could talk.”

  “Come on in.” They walked through the large suite and Brian pointed to the sitting area. “Have a seat.” His father lowered himself onto the sofa, brushed fluff off his jeans.

  “I’ll stand.” Tanner saw the open suitcase on the bed, heard the hum of the AC click on, and tried to organize the things he needed to say. “I just talked to Rance.”

  Brian pulled at the collar of his black polo as Tanner shared the plan. “I think you’ve made the right decision,” he said when Tanner finished. “It’ll be easier on the kids for sure.”

  “Yeah, well. It’s not exactly what I want, but at least they’ll know I’m not walking out on them.” Tanner exhaled and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t meant to say it that way. Or maybe he had.

  His dad gave a slow nod. “You know I live right around the corner from Rance in Seattle?”

  “Yeah.” Tanner decided to sit after all. “I know.”

  He studied his father’s face, trying to remember what he’d looked like years ago. Remembered going fishing with him, driving around in the truck, the windows open, tunes blasting . . .

  “I didn’t leave because of you, Tanner.”

  “I read your letters.” As if that explained it.

  “My letters?”

  “The ones you wrote me. Every week from the day you left.” It had taken hours, reading through them. Reading them again, trying to make sense of it all. Tanner could get up, leave the room, and pretend everything was fine. But it wasn’t. Wouldn’t be until he said this.

  “You hadn’t read them before now?” His father sat forward. “I’m not following you.”

  “No, I never read them, okay?” He felt fifteen years old again, glaring at the answering machine. Wishing Dad would quit already with the annoying messages. “I was mad at you. I told Mom to throw them away.” Harsh laughter shot from him. “But she didn’t. She saved them. Every single one. Every letter, every card, every picture. You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

  “I guess I don’t.” His smile wavered. “It wasn’t what I wanted, Tanner. I never planned to leave. Not like that.”

  Tanner knew. Knew so much more now, more than he wanted to. “Mom told me the truth.” He ran a finger over the soft material of the armchair. “Told me she couldn’t deal with Marnie, that she basically kicked you both out.” All this time he’d blamed his father for leaving, for abandoning him. For breaking up the family. But his mother shared that blame.