Keep Forever

by Alexa Kingaard

  “I’ll try, Elizabeth. I don’t like to see you worry. Lily’s starting to worry about me, too. I can feel it. I can’t move fast, I can’t think fast, I’m useless. Nowhere Man, that’s me, just like John Lennon said . . . a real nowhere man.”

  “That’s not true! That’s depressing, Paul. You are not a nowhere man. Besides, Lily and I don’t worry, we care.”

  “Same thing,” snapped Paul.

  “No, it’s not, at least in my book it’s not the same.” Traffic was at a standstill. Elizabeth decided no matter how many more miles she would have to drive to get back home, she would take whatever winding, surface route she could find. With the sun beating through the windshield and the air conditioning cool enough to be comfortable, it felt good to be out of the house together. It was one of the things she missed the most—simply getting out and taking in the world that revolved around them every day.

  “I know you love your music, Paul, but why do you live in the lyrics and make it the most important part of your life? Everything that happens, you bring up a particular verse or song.” Elizabeth hoped she wasn’t bringing up a painful topic and that Paul would feel like sharing.

  “Musicians are geniuses. They write about other people’s problems, find the right words to make it easy for everyone to relate. Love, hate, war. It’s all there in one little three-minute song. Sometimes I feel like the lyrics were written just for me. Music makes a lot of stuff go away.” Paul sank back in the passenger seat, soaking up the summer sun. A contented smile swept across his face. “Keeps me sane.”

  “I suppose you have a better ear than most. Why didn’t you ever learn to play an instrument?”

  “Too much work, and no talent. I tried learning to play the guitar when I was in junior high . . .”

  Elizabeth interrupted, surprised, “Did you, really? You never told me that.”

  “The subject never came up. Besides, it’s kind of embarrassing to tell your wife you were a dismal failure at mastering the most basic musical instrument ever invented. I was a much better surfer.” Paul’s face lit up as he recalled the memories and Elizabeth relaxed as she saw the color come back to his cheeks. His eyes danced as they continued their conversation and the alternate route she had been hoping for opened up to the majestic coastline. The ocean sparkled in the midafternoon sun, with dozens of surfers in their shiny black wetsuits, bobbing up and down in the water, looking more like sea lions than a crowd of high school boys unleashed for the summer. Elizabeth was glad she and Paul worked their way down to the water from the congested freeway. It soothed Paul, just like music, and it reminded her how happy she was simply to see him smile.

  “Did I ever tell you the story about when I brought my Elvis Presley record to school for show and tell?” Paul grinned as he recalled that moment etched in his memory a lifetime ago.

  “Don’t think I ever heard that one.”

  “I was nine years old, 1956, and my mother let me get Elvis’s record, Jailhouse Rock. That was a bold move for a mom back in the day. She was cool.” Paul’s face fell, but only momentarily, recalling the mother he lost too soon.

  “Anyway, it was Show and Tell Day, and everyone brought dolls, trucks, family pictures. I brought my Elvis record and a little portable record player. I had the worst stomach ache just thinking about getting up in front of the class.”

  Elizabeth could imagine the scene with Paul’s vivid storytelling, and perfect recollection. “Go on. I’m listening.” Traffic slowed once again, and she didn’t even care.

  Paul continued, “So I got to the front of the room . . .”

  Chapter 35

  “Paul, we’re going to be late. Do you need any help getting dressed?” Elizabeth, more apprehensive than normal, woke Paul an hour early so there would be no chance they would miss Lily’s graduation from San Diego State University. She’d made it through four years at her brother’s alma mater and was one step closer to fulfilling her dream of becoming an art historian. Neither Paul nor Elizabeth could understand what drew their daughter to this obscure career choice, but after months of job searching, she was hired into a coveted position as an administrative assistant for the San Diego Art Coalition in Balboa Park. An iconic and historical part of the city for almost one hundred years, there was a constant buzz of activity from school field trips, tourists, and locals, and Lily felt right at home in the midst of it all.

  “I’m not slow on purpose.” It was a phrase of Paul’s that was becoming more and more common as the days turned into weeks, folded into months, and became years in what seemed, paradoxically, like a heartbeat. The pace of the household had slowed even more since Lily left for college. Elizabeth watched Paul struggle with daily tasks, while she tried to ignore the mounds of paper, odds and ends, nails, screws, broken coffee mugs, and piles of clothes not touched in years that invaded the space they shared. For every corner Elizabeth emptied, Paul filled it with what she thought was more nonsense, but to Paul were necessary treasures.

  Elizabeth’s heart sank as she beckoned for Paul one more time, and when she got no response, knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Almost done. Just trying to get my shoes on. I’ll be right there.”

  Twenty minutes later, he appeared and closed the door behind him. She could only imagine what was on the other side, but to protect her heart, she stifled her curiosity and acquiesced to Paul’s request. Whatever it was would only upset her, and she needed to maintain what little tranquility was left in the house. As soon as Lily left for college, Elizabeth moved into her bedroom, the only space amidst the clutter where she could breathe. She ached for a home that could welcome guests and family, with walls that wouldn’t close in on her.

  “You look so nice, Paul,” Elizabeth beamed. “I’ve always loved you in a button-down shirt and navy-blue V-neck sweater. Reminds me of when we first dated. You were so cute, so handsome, and so adorable.” She moved quickly toward him, and gave him a big hug, unable to get her arms completely around him, puzzled by the long beard he insisted on growing, but still knowing it was her Paul.

  “You look pretty. You always look lovely, and I’ve always been proud to call you my wife, and the best mother Rex and Lily could ever have. You done good.”

  “No, we did good! The best father ever! Let’s get out of here.”

  “One more thing. Gotta get my cane, and a bottle of water, and my duffel bag, in case I need something.”

  It was always one more thing. Paul packed for a two-hour event like he would be gone for a month. Elizabeth’s heart ached, but she smiled as he finally made it to the car and buckled up by the time they made it to the freeway. She tried not to show her irritation. Slow, loving Paul. She knew they would need to talk, and though not happy with the decision she had made to get a small apartment of her own, she would have to bring it up soon. She felt like she was drowning, and her mind was getting as muddled as her surroundings. She hoped Paul would understand. But this was a long-awaited celebration and family day, and she intended to enjoy every morsel and memory. Whatever she needed to say to Paul could wait.

  Rex met them on the football field, crowded with row after row of hard metal, folding chairs. He had saved a place next to him and Julia, and flashed a large grin as they slowly approached. Elizabeth hung on to Paul’s free arm, while he held his cane in the other, and they lumbered together past the throng of elated parents, siblings, family, and friends of 2,000 other graduates. Rex made sure he found a shady spot, aware of his father’s reaction to too much sun, one of the side effects to the one of many drugs he was taking. He was happy to see his father in good spirits, and got up quickly from his seat to meet them and guide them toward their places. Julia was waiting, bright, and glowing, as usual. She was centered, gracious, and caring—everything Elizabeth could ask for in a future daughter-in-law.

  Although Rex continued to smile, his eyes stung as he watched his parents draw closer. Paul had put on more weight. His hair had grown past his shoulde
rs, more unruly than usual, and walking was more of an effort for him than ever before. Some of the medications puffed him up, others made him drowsy to the point of lethargy, and still others increased his appetite. It was a prescription for disaster, ill health, and poor quality of life, doled out to keep the wolf from the door—the suicidal tendencies, the depression, the memories of experiences that had wounded him from the inside out.

  “Son, Julia.” Elizabeth hugged one while Paul hugged the other, and they positioned themselves into the sardine-like seating arrangement created by the growing crowd. Grasping Paul’s hand, Elizabeth felt elated that together they were about to witness their girl’s graduation from college. She glanced in his direction. She saw him, behind all that hair, the beard, a fleeting glimpse of his beautiful face and translucent blue eyes. She saw a serene countenance, and for a moment, her Paul emerged.

  Everyone looked forward to the celebratory dinner she had arranged at Lily’s favorite ocean-view restaurant. The evening weather promised to be clear and warm, and nothing could match a brilliant San Diego sunset. Elizabeth made sure that their table was nestled up to the floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows, in full view of the endless scene of blue water and waves lapping a few feet away on the rocks below. They would be front and center for the show nature would most certainly perform.

  As the procession was about to begin, an out-of-breath Lily appeared, holding tightly to her mortarboard so it wouldn’t fly off in the breeze. Eager to talk to her parents but anxious to return to her place in line before the ceremony started, she said as quickly as she could get the words out, “Mama, Daddy, can I bring one more person to dinner tonight? His name’s Michael, he was a medic in Iraq for two years with the Marines . . . he’s getting his degree in Computer Engineering . . . just got hired by a biotech firm in La Jolla . . . we’ve been dating for six months, and I really like him.” She rushed through her monologue, in part to divert questions from her parents, but also to rush back to her place in line with moments to spare.

  Lily, once a sullen teenager, was now full of energy, life, and sheer joy. She searched the crowd and gave the thumbs-up sign to a tall, lean, bearded young man, now grinning from ear to ear as he observed Lily deliver her impromptu speech to her parents. He flashed Lily two thumbs up, as the familiar melody of Pomp and Circumstance began to fill the air.

  Elizabeth leaned over to Paul, “Can’t wait to meet him.” Paul held on tightly to Elizabeth’s hand. He beamed in the direction of their daughter as she marched in the distinguished procession and took her seat among the many who had accompanied her on her college journey. That evening, nature did not disappoint.

  Chapter 36

  Nine months had flown by and, with the majestic backdrop of an ever blue Pacific, a new chapter was about to unfold.

  “You’re so handsome, Son.” Elizabeth gushed as she entered the sacred domain of the groom and groomsmen. Elizabeth loved looking at her boy, her man-child as she called him. He had towered over her five-three frame since he was a sophomore in high school. Although he spent an extra year in law school, he had passed his California State bar exam on the first try and went to work immediately at a downtown law firm. She and Paul often spoke of the opportunities they would afford their children, unlike the ones that were not offered to them. Rex and Lily had seized their chances at success in spite of the difficult situation at home, and neither complained about their childhoods. This day would be a cherished moment in the midst of the ongoing sorrow that had somehow engulfed their lives. It was a moment Elizabeth would long remember.

  Rex rarely hugged his mother, but instead leaned on her shoulder, weighing her down with his size. When he was in grade school, he would reach up to her, stretching his arm to lay his hand on her shoulder and he never let go of this gesture, his way of showing affection to his mother. “You’re WAY too tall to be leaning on me like that. It should be the other way around.”

  “And you’re WAY too healthy for that, Mama, but you know I’ll be here if you ever do need someone to lean on.”

  Straightening his tie and cummerbund, Rex made one last goofy expression in the mirror and struck a pose. “How do I look?”

  “Like my baby, like my toddler, like my teenager, like my son, all grown up. You look wonderful.”

  On the other side of the hotel was a suite reserved by Julia’s parents, where jogging clothes, curlers, hair spray, and dirty tennis shoes were being replaced with picture-perfect dresses and the glowing young women of the bridal party. The bride was being transformed by a team of expert makeup artists and hairdressers, and Lily joked with Julia as she sat on a stool beside her.

  They had grown close, and with no sisters and too many friends to choose from, Julia honored Lily by asking her to be the maid of honor. Lily was a girly girl, by all standards, and was only too happy to oblige, accepting the challenge of the engagement party, dress shopping, venue searching, and all the delicious things that are part of helping to plan a wedding.

  Crowded with relatives, friends, and the anticipation of the impending moment, Paul and Elizabeth were escorted to their places inside the chapel and waited for the first view of the beautiful bride, about to become wife to their son and daughter-in-law to them. When the bridesmaids took their places at the altar, and the wedding march announced Julia’s entrance, everyone rose to watch as she took the final steps toward her new husband. Silence filled the room as Rex took her hand in his and they recited the heartwarming words they had written for each other. It was hard not to cry, and Elizabeth couldn’t help herself. She wasn’t the only one.

  )

  The reception was boisterous and in full swing. “I hate to leave, but it’s getting late and your father’s tired. Do you mind if we take off?” Elizabeth touched Rex’s hand then glanced over at Paul who was waiting for her to return to the table.

  “I wish you could stay longer, but it’s okay, Mama. Let me say goodbye to Dad.”

  Paul lit up when he saw Rex and Elizabeth walk toward him, and for a moment, it looked like he might have an untapped energy reserve. But he struggled to push the chair away from the table and Rex could see he had held out as long as he could.

  “Great night, Son. Where’s your bride? We want to say good night.”

  “She’s over there with her parents.”

  He motioned for Julia to join them. She was blushing and maybe a bit tipsy. As she moved closer, Paul took her hand and bent over for a light kiss on the check. He took Elizabeth’s hand. “Mrs. O’Brien, I would like you to meet Mrs. O’Brien.”

  “Cheesy,” said Rex, but they all chuckled at the corny joke.

  Elizabeth took her sweater from the back of the chair and apologized again. “Sorry we have to leave early, Julia, but us old folks are worn out. We’ll catch up with everyone at breakfast.”

  Paul nodded in agreement, then clutched Elizabeth’s arm for balance as they exited the reception hall, still crowded with party-goers enjoying a continuous stream of alcohol. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth. I know you weren’t ready to leave.”

  She clasped his hand and intertwined her fingers in his. “It’s all right,” she assured him. “I’m tired, too.”

  )

  The highly anticipated wedding photos finally arrived, and Rex and Julia rushed over to share them with Elizabeth, Paul, and Lily. Elizabeth was looking forward to seeing them and excited to relive the special day. Carefully turning the pages of the white leather-bound album, a special gift from Julia’s parents, her heart sank. Seeing photos of the guests; Sam, Linda, and their children; and her sisters, Laura and Tina, with their families, she saw what the years had done to her and Paul. In their 50s, they looked older than most of their friends, the strain on each of them so different, yet equally as devastating.

  She feigned excitement, but was disheartened as she studied the pictures of the now-blended families.

  Her face looked drawn, and even though she always complained about her curly, frizzy, unrul
y hair, it now looked thin and lifeless. Paul, standing by her side in the photos, had a dazed look, his body pumped with one drug after another to keep him stable. No amount of visits to the VA were fixing the problem, and the answers from the overworked and understaffed medical facility were always the same. “It’s the best we can do. We don’t have the resources. You have to wait like everyone else. It’s a long line.” Elizabeth wondered if help from the VA, in the form of treatment or effort, would come in time for Paul.

  The newlyweds departed, wedding treasures in hand, and Lily gathered a few belongings she had left behind when she moved out. Everyone gone, Elizabeth knew the grim photos meant she had to find a way to bring some energy and joy back into their lives.

  The small apartment she kept a block away from the house provided her sanity. Paul hated the idea and objected from the moment she brought up the idea. She knew it wouldn’t be easy and felt horrible about abandoning Paul, but the only other option was divorce and that would have been a cruel resolution to the problem. Nothing would ever stem the heartache they were both experiencing, but she finally won out, and the decision proved to be a benefit to both of them. They talked every morning, and Elizabeth could prepare them dinner in a clean kitchen, be at the house five minutes later, and share a meal with him every night after work.

  “What do you say we start walking every day around the neighborhood, and take off some of this weight we’ve put on? The days are getting longer, the Village is a short drive away, and we can window shop, sit on a bench by the sea wall for all I care. Or we can walk in the neighborhood between the house and the apartment. What do you say, Paul?” Elizabeth hoped he wouldn’t have an excuse, knowing how he was slowing down by the minute, and never eager to make a change.

  “Sounds good, Elizabeth. We’ll put it on the list.”

  “No, not on the list, Paul. That mental list of yours to see Hawaii, start surfing again, lift weights, go to back-to-back concerts for an entire month, shed fifty pounds, clean out the debris that has piled high in the backyard. It’s just a list. No more adding to ‘The list.’ We are absolutely planning and going to walk at least one block every day, even if I have to drag you, and we are starting right now.”