P. S. I Love You

by Barbara Conklin

  I bent and kissed him once more. “So long, Paul,” I whispered.

  “So long,” he whispered back. I backed away slowly, not wanting to leave. He held onto my arm and then his hands slid down to my hand and he held my fingers and then just the tips of them and then finally we weren’t touching anymore.

  “Eat your chicken soup,” I said, blowing him a kiss from the hallway.

  Kim and my mother and the Strobes were waiting in the hall. “I’ve said my goodbye,” I announced to them. I don’t even remember walking out of the hospital and getting into the car.

  Chapter 22

  The long road leading out of Palm Springs stretched in front of us. It had been only ten weeks since I had been on the road, yet I felt a lifetime older.

  The car hummed along and neither Kim or my mother or I felt like talking. The wind was still, unusual for this road, I thought.

  “I guess we can safely wind all the windows down,” my mother told us.

  Kim was sketching a picture of the Abbott house. I turned around and looked at it. “That’s great!” I told her. “Paul wants to be an architect, you know.”

  There was a heavy silence in the car. I looked over at my mother who was giving her full attention to the road and then I looked over at the blue mountains and again saw the tiny sticks that were really great pine trees. Would I ever go up there again — and would it be with Paul?

  My mother finally spoke. “There is a lot of hope for curing Paul, you know,” she said. Was she saying it for me or was she just trying to convince herself?

  “I know,” I said, just for something to fill the void. “I know.” But inside I was thinking.

  “With all their money, why can’t they save their son?”

  “It is one of the finest hospitals in this country,” my mother said, still keeping her eyes on the road.

  I felt suddenly very angry. “With everything they’ve invented and discovered.…Why — why can’t they do something about this!” My sudden burst of anger even surprised me.

  My mother shook her head. “I don’t have an answer for you, Mariah,” she said. “I guess money can’t buy everything after all.” My mother had spoken my own thoughts out loud.

  Suddenly the wind came up as we rounded a bend in the road. It howled fiercely, shaking our car with unexpected fury. The wind is angry, too, I thought as I quickly rolled up my window, but not nearly as angry and frightened as I was.

  We entered the freeway and the winds died down. Again we fell silent, my mother just concentrating on the road ahead of her: Kim dedicated to her drawings. At least she had advanced from her crayons and coloring books, I thought. In a little while she fell asleep and I turned to watching fields of dry weeds fly by us. If it didn’t rain within the next few weeks, a fire would start for sure. The flames would creep up the mountain sides while we watched helplessly on television. It was the same year after year ever since I could remember.

  But it hadn’t meant much to me before. I had never realized that there were beautiful,

  stately green trees on the tops of those mountains, a land of peace and beauty, and they could be wiped out in only one day.

  “Mariah, I was going to wait until we arrived home,” my mother started to say, interrupting my thoughts, “but in the quiet of the car we will be able to discuss it even better.”

  I looked over at my mother, her hair tied back by a dark blue scarf; her eyes were still glued to the road. Suddenly I felt like something big was going to happen, something very important.

  “I’ve been writing to your father,” she said slowly. “I haven’t made any decisions yet, but I’m thinking about asking him to come back. How would you feel about that?”

  I took a deep breath and blinked. Turning to my mother, I looked at her again. Behind her dark glasses, I saw a very tiny teardrop edging out over the side of her eye. I could see it because I was sitting right beside her and she could not just walk away from me as she had done so many times before when we had discussed my father.

  “I’m waiting for you to answer, Mariah,” she said without taking her eyes from the road.

  I took another deep breath. “Having Dad back is one of the most important things in my life,” I told her evenly.

  I could see her mouth relax. “That night Old Jim spoke about his wife…it made me think about the old saying — forgive and forget. Your father hurt me, Mariah, hurt me in a way that I think you’re only now beginning to understand. I don’t know if I can do it, but I think I’m willing to try to forgive him.” The tears were flowing freely now.

  Very carefully she slowly cut the speed of the car and drove off the freeway onto a shoulder. Then she pulled a tissue from her bag. Lifting her sunglasses away from her eyes, she dabbed at the tears that were by this time spilling all over the place. “His leg is so much better now,” she went on. “He’s coming back to Laguna Beach. He’s even arranged for the insurance company to take him back, the same one he worked for before, before — ”

  “Oh, Mom, that’s great,” I said. For the moment I forgot about Paul and grew excited about seeing my father again.

  “I don’t want to get your hopes up — not yet — and I don’t want you saying anything to Kim. I’m going to take it very slowly. I want to be sure I’m making the right decision.”

  “Whatever you decide, Mom, I’ll be with you,” I said, patting her arm.

  I looked over at her. I knew that it would be difficult for her to forget the past; in time I was convinced it would all heal over. Then she could take Dad back. I also knew a few scars were bound to remain. I wished so hard at that moment that I could help her, but I could hear Paul telling me to just be still. I could remember what he said to me that day — her own decision. It would all come out right. I just knew it.

  Carefully she entered the slow lane and then gradually speeded up and entered the middle lane, where she liked best to drive.

  Chapter 23

  Kim and I had the car doors open even before my mother had turned off the motor. “Take your share of stuff into the house,” my mother yelled at us.

  The Gretels had left the night before and so the red roses in the gold vase on the dining room table were still fresh. My mother slid the little card out of its envelope. “Thank you for a wonderful summer. We fell in love with your house. The Gretels.”

  She put her face down into the flowers and breathed in the sweet smell. “How nice,” she said. “What a nice thing to do.”

  I ran upstairs, heading for my bedroom. Propped up on my chest of drawers was a folded note. I grabbed it and sat down on my bed. It felt good to be home in my old familiar room, but somehow the house seemed so much smaller to me. Of course, it was just that the Abbott house had been so huge.

  Dear Mariah,

  I will miss your home, your room and your wonderful ocean. Mostly, though, I will miss your rock where I have spent many hours alone, enjoying the sounds of the waves. Although I am anxious to start the new school year, I wish my summer could have been longer, because of your beautiful, sunny house and your lovely letters. I wish you much success.

  Your friend,

  Elaine Gretel

  I fell asleep that night thinking of Paul. I wondered what he was doing, wishing I could be with him. Later that evening my mother came up to check on me and found me sound asleep, holding Elaine’s letter in my hand.

  Chapter 24

  The morning sun woke me, streams of it flowing through my bedroom window like gold ribbons, the yellow and white curtains trying to loosen themselves from the rods blown by the brisk ocean breeze.

  I was anxious to be off, to head for my rock and run along the edges of the water, sticking my toes into the cool incoming streams. It would feel so good again to squiggle my feet into the damp sand.

  Later in the day, was I surprised when I saw Amy. She had lost at least ten pounds!

  “Mariah, Mariah!” she called to me. “I’m so glad you’re home!” She looked so different, I still coul
dn’t believe it. She actually had her hair curled!

  “Dad took me to a health spa and a fancy New York beauty shop for my birthday and I got a perm,” she said when we finally ran into each other in the middle of Talbot’s meadow.

  We threw ourselves down into the tall weeds and just looked at each other. “I really can’t believe it,” I told her. “You look so great, so much thinner — and your hair looks terrific!”

  She smiled. “Yes, and Mom’s having me fitted for contact lenses next week,” she told me. “Just think, Mariah, I’m going to be able to throw away those glasses!” Her pleasure was contagious and we sat there beaming at each other. “But why didn’t you write, you stinker, not even a postcard! And I sent you six!”

  I knew that was coming. “I’m sorry,” I told her and explained about not remembering to get her New York address. “And we were terribly busy besides,” I added. “We had to keep the house nice and do shopping, and I spent a lot of time at the library — and then there was Paul.” I almost wanted to keep Paul a secret, a private thing that was all mine but my eagerness to show Amy how I’d grown up won.

  She sat up straight and pushed some weeds away from her hair. How would I ever tell Amy that I’d learned that boys weren’t all so bad — in fact some were definitely terrific.

  “Who’s Paul?” she demanded.

  “Just some guy I met,” I told her casually. “He’s very nice and he took us a lot of places that I would have never found on my own.”

  “Oh,” Amy said, chewing on a piece of grass. “Do you think you’ll ever see him again?”

  “Oh, yes,” I said, sounding so sophisticated. “We’re very good friends, and we — ”

  “You mean he’s your boyfriend?” Amy’s eyes were round and getting bigger. I couldn’t tell if she was hurt or pleased — or just shocked. I didn’t know how or what to say, not sure she’d understand.

  “Well, yes, except that right now Paul is sick. He’s going to have to be in the hospital for a little while.”

  “Oh.” She sank back in disappointment. “Oh, well, when he gets better, you can always go see him. Palm Springs isn’t that far.”

  “I know.” I would save the bad news for another day. No reason to say anything yet. No reason to tell her that it might take a long, long time for Paul to get better, or maybe even worse, that maybe Paul could never get better. I tried to smile, but it didn’t feel very sincere. At least Amy let the subject drop for which I was grateful.

  We got up out of the tall blades of grass and headed for Amy’s house. “I want you to see my bedroom,” Amy said. “Mom got back from Iowa sooner than she thought she would, so she thought she’d surprise me and give me a whole new room. She stashed away all that kid stuff — at last — and then she did everything in blues and greens. It’s fantastic.”

  I followed right behind her up the stairs. “Maybe we could go to the movies down in Laguna tonight,” I suggested. “I’m sure I can get the car.” I wanted to keep busy, I realized, so I wouldn’t think about Paul.

  But just as she got to her bedroom door, Amy turned. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mariah, but I have a date tonight. Last week, when I got back from New York, I met a guy. His name is Kirk Bentley. I’m going to the movies with him tonight.”Well, perhaps Amy would understand about Paul and me after all, I thought.

  I smiled as I followed her into her shiny,

  new bedroom. The room looked more like a den than a bedroom, a decided improvement over the juvenile junk that used to litter her room. It had been quite a summer for both of us. Funny how many things can change in only two months of summer when you’ve finally turned sixteen.…

  Chapter 25

  The fall rolled by quickly, each day’s routine meshing into the next. Mom and Dad were seeing each other occasionally, but Mom was determined to take things one day at a time and refused to make a final decision yet.

  In any case, it was great having him back in Laguna again. He had a small apartment near his office and sometimes Kim and I would spend the night with him. At first it was a little awkward trying to make up the two years he’d been gone, but both of us tried very hard to learn all we could about each other. One night I even told him about Paul and he truly seemed to understand the mixture of heartache and joy I was experiencing.

  The days before Thanksgiving were filled with housecleaning, helping my mother getting ready for the holidays. Already Christmas stuff was appearing in the stores down in Laguna Beach.

  I went with my mother to buy our turkey and we lugged home yams and day-old bread for stuffing and cabbage for the cole slaw and goodies to bake the pumpkin and mince pies.

  The air was crisp and sweet, a little cool for this time of year.

  I looked up at the mountains. They were topped with snow and looked like cupcakes topped with frosting. The ocean was still mildly warm, but I hated to see it get so dark so early.

  Eleventh grade had not been as hard as I had thought it would be, and Amy and I seemed to be getting through it pretty easily. She was dating Kirk Bentley exclusively and seemed to be very happy. I spent most of my spare time just writing to Paul in Texas. Once a week he wrote back.

  His life was busy with treatments and tests. “Experiments,” he called them, and he even went to classes, too. “We wheel ourselves into a large room and we have different instructors who come and go,” Paul told me. “My parents have brought me loads of books and I am learning a lot more than I probably would have if I had attended my regular classes at college, or at least that’s what they tell me here. I feel I am getting better now. I should be, with all they’re doing to me. But I miss you, Mariah. If you could be here with me, I wouldn’t mind all of this too much, but I would rather have you wait and see me all well when I return to Palm Springs.”

  “I’m told that it should be sometime after Christmas, perhaps in January, the early part. At least that’s what I overhear when the doctors talk together. I’m a great eavesdropper, Mariah, because I like to know what’s going on. After all, it is my body they’re talking about.”

  “Do you remember the day I first showed you the reservation? I think I loved you — even then.”

  I wrote in my journal faithfully as Paul had asked me to. Elaine and I exchanged letters almost every week. I told her about being named assistant editor of the school paper. I was very proud of that. I put away the romance novels, stacking them carefully in boxes and then carrying them out to the garage. With the school-work and my journal, all my letter writing and the school paper, I would just have to wait a little while longer until I had more time to write a whole book. Anyhow, I had promised Paul I would write a story about me first, and everyday things like they are today.

  Chapter 26

  November 22, Thanksgiving

  Dear Mariah,

  As you will no doubt notice, this is not my handwriting. Pearl, the volunteer for this section, is helping me by writing because my right hand is a little weak from the needles they put in it yesterday. But the reason I am writing is that I want to tell you that I feel I am getting better. Yes, better!

  You mentioned in your last letter to me that your mother will give you enough money to fly to Texas during the holidays. Please don’t. I mean, I want to see you, but I want to see you when I am completely well. You must understand. Would you want me to see you if you were a little under the weather? Try, Mariah, try to understand how I feel about this. I want to look great when I see you again!

  I woke up last night and had this sudden surge of strength. I haven’t felt so good in a long time — since I came here. I talked to Dr. Shue this morning and he just smiled. Maybe he has some kind of secret, but I couldn’t pin him down on anything.

  Then my folks came. You know they finally found a nice apartment here. They smiled too when I told them how really good I felt. I know the doctors have been torturing me with so many treatments. Perhaps they have found something new that will completely cure me. There have been many miracles here in these cases bef
ore, you know.

  I would have tried writing this myself, but as I said, my right hand feels weak, and I never could get my left hand to write legibly. Pearl says she has nothing better to do anyhow.

  We had Thanksgiving dinner right here in the hospital. It was one of the best I’ve ever had. Some people here said it would be a rotten thing to be in the hospital during the holidays, but I’m finding it to be just the opposite. They’ve sent a lot of patients home, so we get extra attention because there are fewer of us.

  I feel kind of sorry for some of those that they did send home. Some of them are being sent back home because there just isn’t anymore the hospital staff can do for them, and so they go home to die. Although, I guess that would really be the best place to be — when it’s your time.

  Anyhow, on to more cheerful things. I’m so happy things seem to be looking up for your mom and dad. I feel I know your father. Remember when you first told me about him and how he loved to appear in your community theater? I loved your telling about Paint Your Wagon and how he named you after one of the songs.

  Mariah, I do not want you to visit me here. I would really rather have you wait until I am better — which I am getting. I want to at least gain back a few pounds and grow some of the hair I’ve lost. I want to see you in an old familiar place — like my house — or maybe I could come to your home and meet your father and sit with you on your rock. After all, I shared mine with you.