The Color of Heaven Series [02] The Color of Destiny

by Julianne MacLean

  Marissa dropped her backpack onto the driver’s seat. “I told you, Ryan’s a doctor. He’s dealt with casualties from just about any kind of accident you can imagine. No risk-taking in our house. Besides it’s the law.”

  “He’s right about the life jackets,” Elizabeth said. “If only the rest of the world could be so sensible.”

  I glanced at her with quiet appreciation.

  “Got it. No problem.” Sean held a hand up in surrender. He slipped his arms into the sleeve holes of the orange vest I held out to him, but he didn’t buckle it.

  As I moved to the driver’s seat, I leaned close to speak quietly in Marissa’s ear. “Make sure he buckles that, will you?”

  “Sure,” she replied, and went to take care of it.

  A few minutes later we were cruising past the other boats in the marina, heading out onto the Bay.

  The sunset that night turned the whole world a bright, fiery orange, and made me feel as if there could be no moment more perfect than this.

  The calm water shone brightly beneath the sun’s reflection, and I was able to sit back and relax on the bench while Marissa took the wheel. I moved to the bench to sit with Elizabeth and Gladys.

  “What do you think?” Elizabeth asked, leaning close to me. “Does he pass muster?”

  I chuckled and turned to face her. “I haven’t decided yet. What do you think?”

  “Tough call. He’s good looking. That’s a given, and sure, he has a big fat scholarship... but can he cook?”

  I threw my head back and laughed. “We’ll have to compare notes after this weekend.”

  “Definitely.”

  I don’t know what came over me, but it felt completely natural to lay my hand on her knee and give it a rub. She seemed startled at first, but I didn’t take my hand away. Then she met my gaze, and there was a smile in her eyes that told me she welcomed this.

  I regarded her with warmth and affection, and something wonderful passed between us. My heart began to beat like a drum. The luminous orange light in the sky reflected the auburn highlights in her hair, which had grown out a few inches since the day she came to us. She no longer looked like a punk rocker. There was something soft and feminine about her now.

  Most noticeable to me, her lips were full and inviting, but we were in the company of others, so I had no intention of taking any liberties.

  But it was definitely cause for reflection. My wife had been gone more than two years, and this was the first time I had experienced any sort of real attraction. I had felt many things for Elizabeth since she came to us – gratitude, respect, friendship, admiration. Now desire entered the picture.

  I was overcome suddenly by a confusing mixture of guilt, joy, and hope.

  She continued to stare at me in the flame-red glow of the setting sun, while the hull of the boat cut lightly through the water’s clear surface.

  I knew in that moment that she felt what I felt. My pulse thrummed with excitement. My blood caught fire.

  Hair flying in the sea breezes, Marissa turned around. “Should we head back now?”

  I pulled my hand from Elizabeth’s knee. “Yeah, we probably should.”

  Marissa stared at us for a moment, and I knew she had seen something. I saw it in her eyes. She knew me too well.

  Did she disapprove?

  I felt another wave of guilt, as if I were cheating on Abigail. I looked out at the water, while Elizabeth turned her face away from me and struck up a conversation with Gladys.

  The thrill was smothered as Marissa took us back to the marina and slipped the boat easily into our regular spot at the dock.

  I hopped out to tie the lines. She glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. I still couldn’t tell what she was thinking, and maybe I should have wanted to crawl under a rock. But I didn’t. All I could think about was the image of those soft, moist cherry lips on the woman in the back of my boat, and the welcoming expression in Elizabeth’s eyes when I laid my hand on her knee.

  Chapter Fifty-three

  FOR AS LONG as I had known Gladys, she loved being out on the water, and she usually took the wheel for a good portion of our outings. I used to call her our speed demon.

  Tonight, however, she had sat meekly on the bench and asked the same question over and over: “Where are we going?”

  “Just for a ride, Gram,” Marissa told her.

  Two minutes later, she would ask the same question again, always with concern. “Where are we going?”

  “Just for a ride, Gram,” Marissa told her again, smiling.

  When we returned to the house with grocery bags full of steaks and pre-made salads, Gladys felt tired and wanted to take a nap, so Elizabeth helped her to bed.

  “There’s definitely a difference since I left,” Marissa said to me as we unpacked the groceries. “Tonight, I wasn’t always sure she knew who I was.”

  “It happens a lot,” I told her. “This past week, when Elizabeth was giving her a bath, she asked if she was her mother. And she’s asked me, a few times, if I’m her brother or father.”

  Marissa closed her eyes and shook her head. “I hate being away from her. And you.”

  “I know,” I replied, “but we’re doing fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about us.”

  She ripped the plastic from the Styrofoam packaging and laid the steaks out on a platter. “It’s been three years since the diagnosis. Don’t you think it’s progressing kind of fast all of a sudden? I thought we’d have more time with her.”

  “Every patient is different,” I said, “and it’s hard to say how long this was going on before she was diagnosed. She was probably dealing with it, and hiding her symptoms, for quite some time before we knew anything about it.”

  Elizabeth came up the stairs and turned on the baby monitor. “She’s in bed. I’m not sure if she’ll be up again to have supper with us. She seemed pretty exhausted.”

  Marissa turned away from the steaks on the counter and walked straight into Elizabeth’s arms. “Thank you so much for everything you do. I don’t know how we could live without you. Please don’t ever leave.”

  Elizabeth held Marissa close and stroked her hair. Then her eyes lifted, and we locked gazes. I was completely enraptured, like an adolescent schoolboy, lost in the depths of her kindness.

  Then Sean walked in with a six-pack of beer, set it down on the center island, and the spell was broken as Marissa backed out of Elizabeth’s arms.

  “Care for a brewski, Dr. Hamilton?” Sean asked as he twisted the cap off a bottle of Alexander Keith’s.

  “Call me Ryan,” I said, “and none for me, thanks.”

  “Ryan doesn’t drink,” Marissa casually explained as she returned to the counter to sprinkle garlic powder on the steaks.

  “Oh,” Sean replied. He set his beer down on the island. “Should I get rid of this?”

  “Don’t be silly. Fill your boots,” I said. “It’s just not my thing, that’s all.”

  I was acutely aware of Elizabeth moving around the island, paying close attention to the conversation. She opened a bag of baby carrots and poured them into a bowl.

  Marissa picked up the steak platter and faced Sean. “Ryan had a bad experience with alcohol when he was young. He hasn’t touched it since.”

  “Really? What happened?” Sean asked.

  “I was in a car accident with some friends,” I told him.

  “Geez, that’s rough.”

  “Yeah.” I said nothing for a moment, and it felt awkward. “I have nothing against people drinking responsibly,” I added. “It’s just not for me. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth, if you know what I mean.”

  Elizabeth pried opened the plastic lid on a bowl of ranch dip and placed it with the carrots on the center island. “I didn’t know about that,” she said with her usual sensitivity. “You never mentioned it.”

  “It was a long time ago,” I replied. “I thought maybe Marissa might have told you.”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “What ha
ppened?” Sean asked. “If you don’t mind the question.”

  I flicked on the deck lights for Marissa, and opened the sliding glass door so she could take the steaks out to the barbeque.

  “I was sixteen,” I told Sean. “Two friends and I were on our way to a party in the middle of nowhere, and we were drinking. I was in the back seat, and my buddy in the front seat decided to stand up and stick his head out the sunroof. A racoon crossed the road in front of us and the girl who was driving lost control and crashed the car.”

  “Was anyone hurt?” Sean asked.

  I hadn’t talked about it in years, and felt a churning sensation in my stomach. I also felt Elizabeth’s eyes trained on me with concern, so I inhaled deeply and forced the words out. “The girl who was driving was killed, and my friend flew out through the sunroof. He had brain damage and was paralyzed from the neck down.”

  “But you were okay,” Sean asked.

  “Yeah,” I replied. “By some miracle, I came out of it with only a few scratches and a mild concussion.”

  Elizabeth continued to watch me with those intense eyes, and somehow I knew there were events in her own life she hadn’t shared with me either, but that she wanted to. It grew quiet in the kitchen, except for the sound of Marissa outside, scraping the grill with the wire brush.

  “I think I’ll go see if Marissa needs any help,” Sean said.

  He moved past me toward the sliding glass doors, though he seemed rather invisible to me at that moment.

  “I don’t drink either,” Elizabeth said when he slid the door shut behind him.

  “I’ve noticed that,” I replied.

  I had often wondered if she was a recovering alcoholic, but it wasn’t my place to ask.

  “There was someone in my life who had a problem,” she explained, “so like you, it always leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I just don’t have any interest.”

  The sliding door opened again. “Do we have any barbeque sauce?” Marissa asked. “Sean wants some.”

  “On his steak?” Elizabeth and I both replied in perfect unison.

  “I know, it’s weird,” Marissa said. “He also puts ketchup on his Kraft Dinner. And I had to teach him to eat lobster out of the shell.” She came inside, fetched the barbeque sauce out of the fridge, and returned to the deck.

  “I guess that answers that question,” Elizabeth said.

  I felt my brow furrow. “What question?”

  She shook her head decisively. “He can’t cook.”

  I smiled and squeezed her shoulder as I went to prepare the salads.

  Chapter Fifty-four

  ELIZABETH TOOK SATURDAY off as she always did, and I spent time with Marissa, Sean, and Gladys. We took Route 333 to the lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove, which was a first for Sean, as he was from out west.

  We got out of the Jeep to explore the rocky shore at the base of the lighthouse. I stuck to Gladys like glue, because the wind off the Atlantic was gusting fiercely. The surf exploded like bursts of thunder on the rocks. It wasn’t the safest place for her to go wandering off.

  Early in the afternoon, we ate lunch at the Sou’Wester Restaurant, then checked out a few antique shops, and returned home in time to cook some pasta, relax, and watch a movie.

  It was a good day, but I missed Elizabeth. I thought of her constantly, wished she could be with us, and looked forward to tomorrow’s Thanksgiving dinner, for she had promised to come and join us.

  Marissa rose early to stuff the turkey, which she roasted slowly in the oven for hours, basting it regularly with its glistening amber juices. By noon, the delectable aroma of the turkey – with hints of savory, onion, and thyme – filled the house with delicious splendor, and I set out to begin peeling the potatoes.

  Weather-wise, it was a perfect day to celebrate Thanksgiving. The sun floated against the blue sky like a shiny gold ball, and the air was warm and still. Autumn leaves, in different shades of crimson, yellow, and orange, colored the trees around the house and the ridge on the far side of the Bay.

  Elizabeth arrived at 3:00 with a homemade apple pie and a carton of French vanilla ice cream. She wore a narrow denim skirt with a hand-knit, oversized sweater, and my heart nearly beat out of my chest at the sight of her. I took the pie and ice cream from her hands, and told her about our trip to Peggy’s Cove the previous day.

  “Sounds amazing,” she said. “I wish I could have been there with you.”

  I wished that, too.

  Marissa set the table with Gladys’s fine crystal and special-occasion china, and the five of us all sat down to gobble up the feast before us.

  “That was delicious,” Sean said an hour later. He leaned back in his chair to stretch his arms over his head. “Want to take a walk on the beach?” he asked Marissa.

  The sun was just setting, and we had all finished our desserts and coffee.

  “Sure,” she replied, “but let’s clear the table first.”

  “No, you guys go ahead,” I said to them. “I’ll handle it.”

  “I’ll help,” Elizabeth said.

  “I’ll help, too,” Gladys added.

  Were we all playing matchmaker now? I wondered with an easy feeling of contentment. Sean had been a perfect gentleman all weekend, polite and respectful. We had spent a lot of time together, he and I, and I couldn’t help but approve of him. He was surprisingly intelligent and witty, spoke of his mother with genuine affection, and helped me figure out how to get Netflix on my phone. He handled Gladys with kindness – and humor, when it was called for – which was the icing on the cake as far as I was concerned. Sure, he had a lot to learn about the finer points of east coast cuisine, but if that was the worst of his faults, he was a fine match for my stepdaughter.

  We watched them go out onto the deck and disappear down the stairs to the backyard and beach beyond. I sighed heavily, and picked up the thermos of coffee to refill my cup. “Anyone else?”

  “I’ll have a bit more,” Elizabeth said, sliding her cup closer.

  I poured the coffee, and we each added milk.

  For the next few minutes, I filled Elizabeth in about Sean, and how he and Marissa were getting along. Then we all worked to clear the table and wash the dishes.

  It was a good day for Gladys. Even when she was unsure about where she was or who we were, she appeared cheerful and comfortable, eager to help tidy up and do chores that were familiar to her.

  Elizabeth took her to bed early, then came back upstairs. “She’s out like a light. And she seemed really happy.”

  “I’m glad,” I replied, flicking the switch on the baby monitor. “She was good today, don’t you think?”

  “She was great. Truly, Ryan, you’re doing a wonderful job here. You’re taking care of everyone so well.”

  “I’m not doing it alone,” I reminded her.

  She regarded me fondly. “We’re a good team.”

  “Yes.” I peered out the dark windows and focused on the lights on the far side of the Bay. “I wonder what the young ones are up to. I should have given them a flashlight.”

  “It’s a full moon,” she said. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  Feeling relaxed, I opened the sliding glass doors to step onto the deck. Elizabeth followed me, and together we leaned against the rail and gazed out over the moonlit water.

  “What a gorgeous night,” she said.

  “It’s times like these,” I replied, “that I feel very grateful.”

  “For what?”

  “A lot of things. It’s strange. Even though my mother-in-law has Alzheimer’s, and I had to bury my wife not long ago, I look out at the water on a night like this, breathe in the salty scent of the air, think of Marissa – and you – and I feel in awe of everything. My existence especially, because there was a time when I didn’t care if I lived or died.”

  Elizabeth leaned her forearms on the railing and wove her fingers together. “I believe that if you’ve been through hell and you come out the other side, you appreciate the little
things more. A night like this definitely qualifies.” She looked up at the stars.

  I was spellbound by her profile and the tousled curls of her hair. It had grown out quite a bit since she first arrived, and I could see red highlights.

  “I wish I knew more about you,” I said, feeling a strong need to pour out my soul to her, to let her know how I felt. “I want to know what sort of hell you’ve been through, Elizabeth. Will you tell me?”

  Her eyes met mine and she turned around to look at the house. “I was married once,” she said with a sigh, “but it wasn’t good. My husband had problems. First it was alcohol, then pot, and eventually cocaine and heroin. He was involved with some bad people.”

  “Is that why you left him?” I asked.

  Was she divorced? I wondered. Or was he abusive and was she on the run from him? Is that why she was so secretive?

  “I didn’t leave him,” she told me. “He died.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head and faced the water again. “It’s not something I like to talk about. For one thing, it doesn’t help my employment prospects if people know I was married to a drug addict. Yet, here I am, confessing my sordid past to my boss.”

  “I’m not only your boss,” I said. “Please don’t think of me just that way.”

  “But you sign my paychecks.”

  A ship’s bell rang in the distance. I turned toward the water.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to me. “That was uncalled for. You’re right. You’re more than my boss. You’re my friend, and I hope I’m yours. I love Gladys like my own mother, and Marissa... she’s like a daughter to me. You’ve all made me feel like a part of this family, Ryan, and I love you for that. It’s been the best year of my life.”

  My gaze darted to meet hers, and she blinked a few times. “Oh, that’s not what I meant,” she quickly added. “I didn’t mean to suggest that I love you like that. I just... You know what I mean.”

  I straightened. “I do.”

  Sparks erupted and flew between us like a firestorm of crazy. Before I could think rationally, I pulled her toward me and slid my hand around her waist.