The Memory of You

by Catherine West

  And Tanner needed to forgive them both.

  “I accepted the marriage was over,” his dad said, “but I could have insisted on you seeing me. But I wanted to protect you from Marnie. She was just too unstable for too many years.”

  “You had other kids.” It wasn’t meant to be an accusation but it sure sounded like one. Felt like one.

  His father flexed the fingers on his left hand, light bouncing off his thick wedding band. “Susan and I did everything we could to keep Marnie with us. In the end, we had no choice. After we moved back to Seattle, we found a state home not far from us. She came to us on weekends.”

  “She never told me that.” Tanner barely recognized his own voice. How would he get through the rest without totally losing it? “She had bad times here, too, when she came to live with us. I learned to deal with her, loved her anyway.” He gripped his knees and grappled with grief. Let the loss surface. “She tried to get me to go see you, meet Susan and the kids. She always wanted to make things right.”

  Brian dropped his head. “I feel like I failed her. Failed all of you.”

  Tanner mentally ticked off a thousand reasons why he could agree with that statement. Waited for his anger to rise, ready to make a smart remark.

  But none came.

  “I don’t want to live in the past anymore, Dad.”

  His father lifted his chin, tears shimmering. “You’ve held on to this a long time.”

  “Yeah.” Tanner sniffed, gave a wry grin. “I guess I don’t know when to quit either.”

  “Seems like now might be as good a time as any.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.” He breathed relief at the smile on his father’s face. But they weren’t quite there yet. “I hope you can forgive me for shutting you out of my life. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but if you’re willing to give me a chance, I was hoping we could start over.”

  “There is nothing to forgive, Tanner,” his dad said. “If anyone should be asking for forgiveness, it’s me.”

  Tanner ran the back of his hand across his eyes and gave a nod. “Consider it done.”

  Dad rose, stood before him, and extended a hand. Tanner stood and clasped his father’s hand in his. And then he allowed his father to draw him into a firm embrace, warmth flooding through him. This was more than he’d hoped for, prayed for, or dared to dream about. At best, he’d planned to leave this room with a bit of his burden lifted. But it had disappeared completely.

  And Tanner was finally free.

  Thirty-Three

  NATALIE WOKE, A SCREAM STUCK IN HER THROAT. ANOTHER nightmare.

  When would they end?

  She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and groaned. Five a.m. Wednesday morning.

  She was turning into Tanner.

  Wonderful.

  She dressed, pushed her feet into her sneakers, and tiptoed downstairs. The dogs rose when she reached the kitchen, their tails wagging. “All right.” Still dark out, she grabbed a flashlight and headed for the door. “Come on.”

  The early November air was filled with a briskness that brought a frown to Tanner’s face along with rumors of a harsh winter. Natalie prayed it wouldn’t happen. Since they’d made the decision to take the kids to Seattle, he’d been spending as much time as possible with them. They’d taken them on picnics, to the movies, even to the mall at Jeni’s request.

  Natalie was proud of Tanner for going to talk to Rance and to his father. The two men had flown back to Seattle, but all of them were working on fixing a date for the move that would be best for the kids. Probably at Thanksgiving break.

  And now that Natalie had made her decision regarding Maoilios, it was time to deal with the rest of it.

  Time to face the past and finally free herself of the guilt she’d carried over the years.

  Natalie walked the rows of vines and eventually settled on the swing set. The dogs chased rabbits while she watched the lights come on in the house at the end of the road. Ten minutes later, Gwin bounded toward her with a bark. The other dogs joined in and they raced off down a row of vines. Natalie raised a hand as Tanner approached through daybreak’s mist.

  “You’re up early.” His smile slid out, soon smothered by a yawn.

  “Couldn’t sleep.”

  “You been talking to my vines, Mouse?”

  “No.” Natalie stifled a giggle. “Is that what you do?” She could actually see him out here in the dead of night, coaxing the grapes along.

  “Sometimes.” He shrugged and came to stand in front of her. “And if they can’t hear me, I guess God can, so the conversation isn’t completely one-sided.”

  “Good to know.” Her smile didn’t last long. The ominous feeling that had been shadowing her loomed large. She wiped her cheeks and veered her gaze.

  “Natalie? Come here.” He held out his arms and she moved into them, burrowing into his soft fleece and the shelter of his embrace. “What is it?” He stepped back, tipped her chin, and frowned. “Why the tears?”

  She filled her lungs with sweet air. “I don’t know. I . . . I just feel like things are ending here.”

  “Ending?” Tanner shook his head, cradling her face in his hands.

  She nodded, wrestling with her thoughts. “I need to go home, Tanner. I need to talk to my parents. Tell my mother the truth about the accident. Wind things up there officially. It’s the right thing to do.”

  He studied her carefully. “But you’ll come back. Right?”

  “I was planning on it.” She allowed a smile. “But I am wondering if you’ll be here when I do.”

  Tanner grinned. “You’re getting pretty good at reading me.”

  They walked up to the patio and sat together on the bench. He wrapped her in his arms, and they watched the sun push upward over the hills, blanketing them in soft reds and yellows. He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. “We’ve decided to take the kids to Seattle just before Thanksgiving. Mom will come home after that, and I’ll stay on longer.”

  “Okay.” Natalie laced her fingers through his and studied the veins in his hands. Met his searching eyes and wished things could be different. “What do they think?”

  Tanner frowned. “They’re okay. They understand he’s their dad and why it’s right. They’re upset about leaving here, obviously, but I’m sure once they get there, they’ll settle quickly.”

  The sorrow in his voice brought fresh tears to her eyes. “Do you think . . . I mean, have you considered moving there?” She almost dreaded the answer.

  He sighed and leaned back against the bench. “In my less rational moments, yeah. But my life is here, Nat. I couldn’t give this up. They’ll be okay without me. Not sure I’ll be okay without them, but . . .”

  Natalie wrapped her arms round him. “I’m sorry.”

  “I know.” He breathed a sigh. “As much as it hurts, I feel at peace with it.”

  “I envy you that,” Natalie whispered. “I think that’s why I need to go home. So I can finally put the past to rest.”

  Tanner sat up a bit and met her gaze. “You can do this, Natalie. It’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.” Natalie smiled. “I guess we’ll have to leave Uncle Jeff in charge while we’re gone.”

  “I think he’ll actually enjoy that.” Tanner gave a mischievous grin. “I’ve a feeling he’s sticking around, winery or not.”

  “He and your mother do seem happy.” Natalie was thrilled for both of them. “Well, we have a lot to do around here, that’s for sure.”

  They’d found the perfect spot for a tasting room. Down by the lake. It wouldn’t be large, but the initial plans the architect presented were exciting. She was looking forward to stepping into this new world, looking forward to making a life here.

  But there was something she needed to do first.

  One final thing.

  Natalie rose and held out a hand. “Walk with me?”

  They walked the long road she and Nicole drove that night. Natalie had avoided i
t until now. It was a back road, so there hadn’t been a need to travel it. But now, as she placed one foot in front of the other, Tanner by her side, she let the memories come.

  “I started to speed up here. It was one of those still nights where you could hear the world breathing.” She pushed her hair back and gave a small laugh. “My grandmother used to say something like that. Listen real close and you’ll hear the angels sing. I didn’t hear any angels that night.”

  Tanner wrapped her in his arms and she leaned against his solid chest, drawing strength from him. “We didn’t make it very far. Just over there.” Natalie pointed, stared through her tears at the spot still seared in her mind. She blew out shallow breaths and removed her hand from his. “That’s where the deer came out of the bushes.”

  She could still see the animal, the wild, frightened eyes as she tried to slam on the brakes, Nicole’s scream as she lunged for the steering wheel as Natalie realized that in her fear she was pressing the gas pedal and not the brake.

  “Stop, Nat, the brakes! HIT THE . . .”

  “Nicole tried to stop the Jeep, but we were going too fast. It was too late.” Natalie drew in a shuddering breath, crossed the dusty road, and crouched in front of the tree. “It was right here.”

  She placed her hand on the damp grass around the trunk. She lowered her head and let her tears fall. Birds in the branches above began their morning songs. The sun crested over the hill and lit the vines and the moss on the tree. The early mist pushed higher.

  “I’m sorry, Nic,” she whispered, her throat burning, but her heart ready to be relieved of the ache. With trembling hands, she undid the necklace that had once belonged to her sister, and placed it deep within the roots of the old cypress. “I’m so, so sorry. But I need to let you go now. It’s time to say good-bye.”

  Tanner moved in behind her and held her through sobs that sucked all the guilt and heartache from her. Eventually her tears subsided, and a blessed feeling of peace settled over her.

  When she dried her eyes and turned to face him, he kissed her. “Okay?”

  Mutely, she nodded, gaining strength from his quiet smile. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Thank you for letting me.” Tanner pulled her close to claim her lips again. “How am I supposed to live even a day without you?”

  Natalie smiled. “You’ll figure it out. And by the time you get back from Seattle, I might already be back here. Home.”

  “Home.” His smile faltered as he drew a shaky breath. “I’m holding you to that, Miss Mitchell. And believe me, if you take too long, I’ll come get you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Count on it.” His next kiss was filled with a future she didn’t know for sure belonged to her yet, but she clung to him and claimed it anyway.

  “All set then?” Grandpa Hal wandered into Natalie’s bedroom and took a look around. Natalie nodded as she zipped her suitcase. A shaky sigh trembled off her lips when she turned to face him.

  “You understand why I have to go, don’t you?”

  “I do.” He took her hands in his gnarled ones. His blue eyes glowed with compassion. “I made a lot of mistakes with my boys, Natalie Grace. Lately, with Jeffrey home, I’m starting to work through them, make up for them, I hope. But your father . . .”

  “I know. He’s stubborn.”

  “He blames me for a lot of things. Your grandmother’s death. He thinks I should have done more. Been more proactive with her care, even though she was refusing more treatment at the end. I’m not sure we’ll ever get past that.”

  “I know. But I pray you will,” Natalie told him. “And pray for me, Grandpa. Pray I can get through this.”

  “I will, darlin’.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “And I’ll also be praying you come back to us soon. Back home where you belong.”

  “Thank you for everything.” Emotion made speech difficult. “I feel like I’ve found myself again here. I won’t lose sight of that a second time.”

  His smile sent a ripple of wrinkles across his weathered brow. “Did I ever tell you what Maoilios means, Natalie Grace?”

  She shook her head.

  “It’s an old Scottish Gaelic name. It means ‘Servant of Jesus.’”

  Natalie returned her grandfather’s smile and squeezed his hands. “That’s perfect.”

  Regret flickered over his face. “I haven’t always lived up to the name. Some folks might think it an inappropriate name for a winery, but your grandmother didn’t. She said it would help remind us that, in all things, we are to serve the Lord.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  He laid a hand on her head. “Peace be with you, Natalie Grace.” Natalie closed her eyes, received her grandfather’s blessing, and embraced a new true sense of belonging.

  Thirty-Four

  WHEN SHE’D CALLED TO LET HER MOTHER KNOW SHE PLANNED to come home, Natalie wasn’t sure what reception she’d get. Whether her father would even welcome her.

  He hadn’t said much when she’d arrived late that Friday evening. Her mother offered tea, food, asked after her grandfather, but conversation was stilted and uncertain. And her father kept casting wary glances her way.

  Like he knew why she was here.

  The next day, after an early breakfast with Laura that gave her the encouragement she needed, Natalie joined her parents for lunch. It was a crisp day, but the sun was shining. They sat in the glassed-in porch off the kitchen, and Natalie surveyed the long garden where she and Nicole used to play.

  “Do you remember the year Nicole decided she was going to break the record for turning cartwheels?” The memory came out of nowhere and brought a smile. Natalie turned to her parents and took in their startled expressions.

  Dad slowly lowered his dessert fork onto the white china plate, crusted with leftover chocolate crumbs, a mix of horror and bemusement on his face. Mom sat back a bit, hesitation hovering.

  “She never broke the record, but she sure had fun trying.” Her mother’s whisper wound around them like fine silk.

  For the first time in years, Nicole’s memory was invited in.

  Accepted.

  Natalie’s eyes smarted, but she smiled anyway. “Grandpa reminded me of that summer he and Grandma took us to the beach for the weekend, and we found out I was allergic to clams.”

  Her mother’s sudden giggle filled the emptiness in the room. “Oh, your sister was upset. Didn’t understand why we felt you had to come home, ‘Okay, she almost choked to death, but now she’s fine!’ she kept saying. I had a feeling she was more annoyed that you were getting all the attention.”

  “That would be Nic.” Natalie touched the bare spot at her throat where her sister’s necklace had sat. “I wonder what she’d be doing now.”

  Dad chuckled, the sound so unexpected and startling, that they both turned to look at him. His eyes shone with years of unspoken grief. He gave a resigned shrug, as if he knew it too. Knew it was time to let it go. “She’d either be running for president or heading up a corporation larger than mine.”

  “Really?” Natalie shook her head. “I’d always envisioned her working with you.”

  “I don’t think so. Your sister would have run her own show.” His unguarded smile was so foreign that it took Natalie a moment to recognize it.

  “Maybe so.” She sat back in her chair and watched a pair of white mourning doves flutter around the birdbath beyond the patio. They settled on the rim and took turns pecking at the water. “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” she said quietly, “talking about Nic. Remembering.”

  “We should never have stopped.” Mom sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Why did we?”

  “Because of me.” Natalie took her mother’s hand and squeezed tight. “Because after Nicole died, I couldn’t cope, and every year since then has been a battle. But I think I’m finally ready to let go. I’ve started to heal.”

  “Natalie.” Dad’s brow furrowed, his tone rife with warning. She’d known he’d object. But she needed t
o do this, whether he approved of exhuming the past or not.

  “It’s okay, Dad.” She concentrated on her mother instead. “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

  “What is it, sweetheart?” She sat forward, concern in her question. “Are you having troubles again? I knew it, Bill, I told you—”

  “Jane.” Dad cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “Just listen.”

  Natalie’s heart thudded, but she pictured Tanner sitting beside her, silently supporting her. And she forced the words out. “Mom, the truth is, I have been having trouble again. After Peter . . . well, things started, the nightmares, the flashbacks. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you both to worry, and . . . I wanted to handle it myself this time.”

  “Oh, Natalie.” Memories of the past raced across her father’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  “We shouldn’t have sent you out there!” Mom’s eyes grew wide. “If I’d only known—”

  “No.” Natalie shook her head. “I’m glad I went. I needed to. I’ve been seeing a psychologist in San Francisco, and I’ve made real progress. I understand now where my inability to let go of what happened comes from. It’s my own guilt. And I need to be free of it.”

  “Guilt?” Confusion narrowed Mom’s mouth. “I don’t understand.”

  Natalie avoided her father’s gaze, pushed back fear, and pressed on. “There’s something else you don’t know, Mom. About the night of the accident. I told everyone Nicole was driving. But that’s not the truth. The truth is, I was.”

  The room stilled as silence thickened the air. Dad let his breath out in a rush and Mom sat back with a small cry. But she didn’t let go of Natalie’s hand. She squeezed tighter.

  “You were driving?”

  “Yes. Nicole was, at the beginning, but then I took a turn. And I . . . I couldn’t stop the Jeep.” She inhaled and let her breath out, forcing calm. “Afterward, I was so afraid . . . I told the police it was Nicole, I didn’t know what they’d do if—” Her throat clogged and she couldn’t finish. Could only stare at her mother in a silent plea for forgiveness.