by Sarah Pawley
Her rest was fitful. Once, she heard footsteps at her door and she shut her eyes, pretending to sleep. Jack and Alice were in the doorway for a few moments, and then they were gone, and in all honesty she was glad. Not that she was angry with them. But she didn’t want them coming in with sweet words of understanding. The idea of it was nauseating, and the last thing she wanted was to feel worse.
Sometime in the night, she found she couldn’t lay still anymore. She needed fresh air, to clear her head from all her troubled thoughts, and she wanted to creep out to the front porch swing and sit in the dark. As she crept down the stairs, she heard voices coming from the living room, and quickly realized it was her mother and father. They had chosen to sleep on the living room floor on blankets, almost as if they were sleeping outdoors on a hunt, rather than sleeping in a strange bed. As she neared the bottom of the stairs she listened. She quickly realized they were talking about her.
“Doc Smith could have taken better care of her,” said John. “I don’t trust no big city doctor for anything. None of this would’ve happened to her if she had stayed at home where she belonged.”
“I just praise God she's all right. But if she’d just gone on and married Charlie, instead of making such a fuss about it, she would've never been hurt in the first place. She always was bull-headed.”
She sat there listening. Then after a few moments more, she turned and went back to her room, sinking back to her bed.
She was sick of fighting the good fight. Tired of fighting for their love and her own independence. Worn to the bone from all that her life had become in these last weeks…weak of heart and soul, she dropped her arms on her pillow and cried, the sound of a soul broken in two. For many long minutes she wrung her heart dry. And when it was over, a little voice spoke inside her head.
Love me then, or hate me, as you will. You have my full and free forgiveness.
And they did have it.
Clarity washed over her soul. A strange kind of peace descended on her heart as she came to a great conclusion…
They would never love her as she needed them to, no matter how much time went by. And after all the misery she’d endured, she just didn’t give a damn anymore.
It was time to lift all the burdens from her soul. To clean out her life, in a manner of speaking. She needed to go away…far away, where there were no memories. She needed to be alone, to find happiness for herself. On her own. Looking to others for happiness? Bah! It was like trying to grasp sand, only to have it slip through her fingers.
Sand, she thought. The word triggered a memory. With some effort she sat up. Reaching over to the bed stand and pulling open the drawer, she rifled through it and pulled out a little card…the one that Henry’s Great Aunt and Uncle had given to her the night of the show. It had been in her pocket the night she’d gone to the hospital. The day she’d come home, she’d thrown it in the drawer without a thought for it. Now she looked down at it, reading…
The Little Palm Inn
350 Ocean Drive
Key Largo, Florida
Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Stanton, Proprietors
* * * * *
She could smell breakfast cooking, but she didn't get out of bed. She imagined her mother downstairs cooking. Alice was probably there with her, showing her mother-in-law the ease of a modern kitchen…just as she’d once done for her. Part of her wanted to see it.
But then she remembered last night. And thinking of it, she ignored the impulse to get up, turning her head back into her pillow and squeezing her eyes shut.
There was a light rap at the door. Then Jack’s voice called to her.
“Baby sister, are you coming down to eat?”
She was silent, ignoring him in the hopes that he would go and leave her alone. But a moment later the door opened, and he poked his head in.
“They’re leaving after breakfast. You should at least come to say goodbye. Or good riddance. Whichever you prefer.”
Still she didn’t answer. Perhaps sensing her feelings, he left with a quiet closing of the door. After he’d gone, she lay there for some time, wishing she could just hide under the covers and disappear.
It was sunrise before she finally moved. I’m not going to hide up here like a scared rabbit, she thought. She got up, and slowly she washed and dressed, all the time wondering if someone would come to check on her. No one did. And she said to herself, No one cares. For a moment she wallowed in self-pity. There was a burn of tears in her eyes. But she took a deep breath, shaking her head.
I’ve never felt sorry for myself for long. Why should this be any different?
For courage, she thought of passage from her favorite book. It had always served her in times of crisis. She turned to it once again…
I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself…
Soon she was standing by the front door. Jack was about to leave to take their folks to the train station. Standing beside him, she watched as their mother came forward, and a moment later she felt a light kiss on her temple. But it was strange to feel so disconnected to someone. The gesture felt so empty, like kissing herself in the mirror. Her father’s response was even cooler. He didn’t bother with a false gesture of affection. He just nodded his head, and nothing more. Somehow, the brutal honesty of his feelings was rather satisfying. It gave her closure where he was concerned. And now, it was all over and done. Before she quite knew it, they were driving away and out of her life. Not for the last time, she was sure. There would come a day when she would see them again.
But never again would there be a bond there to hold them to each other. It was as if she’d been severed from them with a sharp object. That wound was deep. Maybe it would never heal completely. But she vowed she wouldn’t bleed to death from it. And starting now, maybe she could at least dull the pain of it…with time, and distance. A lot of distance.
Standing next to Alice, they watched the car as it drove away. Alice sighed.
“I never thought to hear it,” she said. “But last night, Jack agreed that at least once a year at Easter, we would bring the baby to them for a visit.”
Grace felt miles away, but managed to respond. “No fooling?”
Alice nodded. “He made it clear that he was just doing it for the baby. But I think there’s a tiny spot in his soul that knows it’s good for everyone.”
Grace nodded, and tried to smile, though it was forced and weak.
“That’s as it should be.”
She felt Alice’s eyes searching her, and she took a little breath and spoke before Alice could.
“I’m still not feeling so well. I think I’m going to lie back down for a while.”
Alice sounded concerned. “You didn’t come down for breakfast. Are you sure you wouldn’t like something to eat?”
Grace shook her head. “I’m not hungry. Just tired.”
When she turned and went back into the house, she could not hold back the sigh that escaped her, and Alice put a gentle but firm hand on her arm, turning her to look at her face.
"Something is on your mind, and don't try to tell me otherwise. I know you too well." She waited a moment for a reply, and when none came, she gave voice to her own assumption. "It's your parents, isn't it?"
Grace sank down on the sofa and put her head in her hands, letting out a deep and trembling breath. "It's them, it's Jack, it's Charlie…it's everything."
She felt Alice's gentle touch on her shoulder, but now, even that was little comfort. There could be comfort in only one place, and it was in solitude. She could not recall the last time she had been alone and at peace. At home, she had found peace in her long walks through the woods and hills, with only herself and perhaps her dog, who was ever the blissfully silent companion. Now she felt trapped, and the need to escape was overwhelming.
"I'm going away for a little while.” She lowered her hands from her face and brought them into a folded position under her chin.
> "Away?" asked Alice, a note of concern in her voice. "Where?"
"Key Largo.”
Alice's mouth fell slightly open. "Are you serious?"
Grace nodded, and Alice began grappling for answers.
"How in the world did you decide on that? Do you know how far away it is?"
"I do. I found it on a map. It was Henry's Great Aunt and Uncle who invited me to come when I felt the need. They have a little hotel there. And as for being far away, that’s exactly what I want right now.”
Alice rose to her feet. It was clear from her tone she was flustered. But she was calm when she spoke. "How long will you be gone?"
All she could do was shrug. "I don't know. However long it takes, I suppose. I just need to be by myself.”
"But what about Henry?" asked Alice. “You’re not leaving him behind forever, are you?”
Grace shook her head. “I hope not. Maybe. Good Lord, I don’t know.” Her head fell back in her hands. “I thought about it all night long. Maybe I should just give him up.”
“Give him up? Why?” Alice came to sit beside her.
“I don’t want him feeling like he has to be bound to me. The poor man’s had enough trouble in his life. Why should I cling on to him and make his life more complicated?”
Just as Alice was about to say something, the doorbell rang. Grace’s expression paled, knowing who was on the other side of the door. Alice turned and looked at her.
“Do you want me to send him away? You look a little pekid.”
Grace shook her head. "No, don't send him away. Let him come in so I can talk to him. It's better to say what I have to say and be done with it." She looked down at the floor. Alice nodded and went to let him in.
As he stepped across the threshold, his eyes immediately met with hers. Alice left them alone, and he came to stand before her. She felt a great melding of excitement and fear at the sight of him. In his hand he held a bouquet of flowers. She felt a little part of her heart sink at the sight. Oh Lord, she thought. How can I go through with this?
She tried to smile as he came close to her. He bent down and pressed his lips, warm and tender, to her temple. He handed her the flowers.
"They're beautiful," she said. "Thank you." She buried her nose in them for a moment, and then set them down on the table in front of her.
He sat beside her, and thinking about what she knew she had to tell him, she was suddenly nervous. Unable to know just what to say, she began with the first thing that came to mind.
"How are things at work?"
His face turned rather glum, and she wondered at that downturn of expression.
"My partners are pushing me to fill your place. I told them they should wait and see how long your recovery will be, but they're insisting on finding someone else right away. Selfish bastards."
“But you can't afford to lose money, can you? And all because of me.”
He took her gently by the arms and turned her to face him. “Don’t blame yourself for that. Besides, it’s my business. They're just partners in the investment. I can do whatever I please, and I say they can wait until you're well again."
She couldn’t hide the frown that came, and she couldn’t hide it from him.
"What is it?" he asked, looking concerned.
"I think you should find someone else.”
She looked up at him. His eyes were bright, almost fearful, seeking explanation. "I don't think I can go back on that stage,” she told him. “Not after what happened. And not without Toby being there." A look of great pain came to her face, and she felt it in her heart as well.
"Are you sure?”
She nodded sadly, looking down at the floor.
He sighed. “Very well, if that’s what you want.”
For a few moments they were both quiet, and sensing that a change of subject was necessary, he gave it. "So what happened with your mother and father?"
She let out a slow, deep sigh. Her tone was calm, but sad. "Nothing like I hoped, but just about what I figured. But Jack agreed to bring the baby home for a visit at Easter. He wants to be a good father.”
Henry shook his head as he looked at her. “There you go again, trying to deflect the attention from yourself. I didn’t ask about your brother. I asked about you.”
Without quite thinking about it, she leaned her head against his shoulder. She sighed, a slight tremble in it.
“I think they’re over my ‘rebellious streak’ as they like to think of it. So now, we’re right back where we started. I’m their daughter, and to them, that's a wrong that won’t ever be righted. So it's just something I have to learn to live with.”
He said nothing to her words. What good were words, anyway? He put his arms around her, and she let herself lean against him, taking comfort in his warmth and strength. She felt the sudden urge to break into tears, but a deep and cleansing breath kept her from it. Her head against his chest, she took in the scent of him. He smelled of soap and the slight spice of his cologne. His presence was so calming, his fingers lightly rubbing her back, so soothing. She didn't want to think of her parents or any other troubles. She certainly didn't want to think about leaving him. But she knew that if she didn't go, if she stayed here, with all the memories so fresh in her mind, she’d soon go mad. She took another deep breath.
"Henry?”
"Hmm?" he replied, seeming very content to remain in silence and just hold her, rather than talking. But she knew she had to speak while the thought was strong in her mind.
"I have to go away for a little while.”
At that, she felt him tense a little, and she feared what he would say. It hurt her to think that she would wound him in any way, but she knew it was something she could not keep from doing, and she hoped he would somehow understand. But when he pulled away from to look at her, his eyes were so full of pain that she almost hated herself.
"Go?" he asked. "Go where?"
She wasn't sure how she managed it, but somehow she answered, her voice more calm than she would have thought it would be.
"I'm taking up your Aunt and Uncle's invitation. I'm going to Key Largo for a little while."
"When?" he asked, almost demanding it.
"In a few days. As soon as I see the doctor, and he gives me my medical clearance."
He slowly rose to his feet. She watched as he turned away from her and went to stand before the window. He drummed his fingers on the sill, almost as if he were angry, and she wanted so much to know what he was thinking. For the longest time he was silent, and she feared she had made him so upset that he wouldn't talk to her at all…and that she did not want.
"I promise, it's not forever," she said. "I just need to get away from everything for a little while. A complete change of scenery. I need a place with no memories of any kind. And I need to do that on my own."
Still he said nothing. He just brought his hand up to cover his mouth for a moment, and he let out a tense kind of breath.
"Will you say something to me?" she asked. "I feel like you're about to walk out of here in a fit of temper and never come back."
He scoffed at that. His voice was cool and calm, but full of bitterness. "I’m not Charlie. I’m perfectly capable of controlling my temper, even when someone is about to walk out on me."
She had known this moment would come. She told herself that she was strong enough to see herself through it. But now she felt close to tears, so remorseful was she for hurting his feelings. "I'm sorry, Henry.”
And then she found she could say no more. The lump in her throat had grown much too large, and she put her head in her hands. Then, a few moments later, she felt his presence before her. She felt him take her hands and move them gently away from her face. He sat beside her, and she found herself trying to look down and avoid his eyes, as the guilt she felt threatened to overwhelm her. Then she felt his hand on her chin, and he lifted her face to make her meet his eyes, which were shining with tears. He gently cupped her cheeks with his palms, placing a soft k
iss on her lips. He looked at her with a tender and loving gaze.
"Do what you have to do," he said softly. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be here waiting when you get back." He smiled slightly, brushing away a tear that had escaped her eye. Gently he brought her head to rest under his chin, and for a long moment he just held her close.
"Will you promise me one thing?"
She could not speak, but she nodded in reply.
"Let me take you to the train station when you go. At least give me the chance to see you off. To say goodbye."
She nodded again, words failing her. All she could do was press her burning eyes against his shoulder as her silent tears fell. She felt herself growing calm as he held her close, and soon her tears had ceased. She sighed against him, glad to have her fears subsided by his tenderness and understanding.
"I was so worried that you would be mad.”
In his reply, there was a hint of amusement. "You think I'm that insensitive?"
"No," she said. "But I was worried that you’d think I was being like…” She paused, anxious about the thought on her mind, but she made herself go on. "Like Mary."
They had hardly spoken about his wife. She knew it was a painful subject for him, and rightfully so. And for a few chilling moments, she’d worried what he would think of her. Would he think she was like that? Just another heartless woman?
But he was every bit the good man she knew him to be. He proved it even now, replying to the confession of her fear.
"Don’t compare yourself to her, not ever again. Mary was good-hearted, but she was a child in so many ways." He set her back a little in his arms, and looked down at her with a serious expression. "You're more of a woman than she could ever be.”
She looked into his eyes, nodding. She started to smile. But then, she saw a flash of pain cross his features. The look was only there for a moment, but she had seen it just the same, and she felt a sharp ache in her heart. She had caused that hurt - she knew she had, and guilt began to shake her again. She started to speak, but he gingerly pulled himself from her embrace and turned away from her. For a moment she was afraid that he would turn and rush out, wounded and crushed, and leave her there to suffer in her shame for hurting him. But when he moved away he was strangely calm, his movement smooth and unhurried. She didn’t know what to make of him.
