Spinning Forward

by Terri DuLong

  “Of course you are. Wouldn’t be normal if you weren’t. But there comes a time when ya have to let go. Let go and let that female spirit overtake you. If you’re strong and you believe in yourself, then you’ll know if you’re making the right choice or not.”

  “Did you? Did you make the right choice when you left this island?”

  “I thought so at the time.”

  “And now?”

  “I told ya once, I don’t have any regrets. But the closer I come to leaving this earth, the more I’m wondering if I should have been stronger with taking a risk than I was about getting away.”

  I sat up straighter, turning to face Sybile. “Is that what you’re telling me? That I should take a risk with Noah?”

  Sybile smiled. “I can’t tell you to do that. Only you know. Deep down inside, if you listen to that female spirit—you know what you should do.”

  “It’s so damn hard, isn’t it? Life.”

  “Yeah, it is, but so’s dying.”

  Knowing what lay ahead for Sybile, I felt like a whiny child. “I’m sorry. Here I am bitching to you and you sure don’t have a bed of roses.”

  “But I’ve had a good life, Sydney. I really have. Probably shoulda done a few things differently, but still a good life. You could too. Remember that fear you let go of earlier tonight? Don’t let it hang around. Purge it once and for all. Get rid of it and allow yourself to follow that destiny. Fear only holds ya back.”

  “Be more like Monica, is that what you’re saying?”

  Sybile reached over and took my hand. “Honey, you’re you and you’re plenty fine. But there’s so much more to you. Let yourself soar and find that person.”

  I recalled Noah’s words on the card—“allow your soul to soar.”

  Finishing off her wine, Sybile snuggled down into the lounge and adjusted her pillow. “Now this is the best way in the world to fall asleep. Don’t you ever forget it. Out here in the open, with the sky and the water. You wait and see if you don’t have the best night’s sleep ever.”

  I brought Sybile’s hand to my lips. “Good night, Sybile. Sleep well.”

  “Oh, no doubt about that,” Sybile replied, pulling my hand to her own lips. “Good night, Sydney.”

  Murmuring voices caused me to stir inside my sleeping blanket. Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was a milky blue sky above. Sitting up on one elbow my gaze was drawn to the horizon where a bright red ball was inching its way upward.

  “Well, sleepyhead, ’bout time you decide to wake and join us,” I heard Alison say.

  Coming more fully awake, I looked around to see the women sipping coffee.

  “What time is it?” I asked while untangling myself from the sleeping bag and standing up to stretch.

  “Six o’clock,” Monica said, passing me a mug of coffee.

  The robust aroma floated up to my nostrils as I took a sip of the hot liquid.

  “Hmm, good. Thank you. Why didn’t you guys wake me? How long have you been up?”

  “Just long enough to make coffee,” Dora said. “Besides, you were in a deep sleep.”

  “I haven’t slept that good since…” I started to say and glanced at Sybile, who gave me a wink. “A long time. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept like that.”

  “Here, help yourself to a muffin,” Marin said, passing a plate.

  “I’m so glad we did this. Wasn’t last night just incredibly special?” Monica asked, while hugging my shoulder.

  I nodded and caught Sybile staring at me. “It was very special. A night I’ll always remember. Now I know why the blue-moon gathering years ago meant so much to both of you.”

  Sybile smiled. “And I enjoyed last night immensely. I’m glad we did it too.”

  “So am I,” Dora chimed in. “But if you gals will forgive me, I think I just might head home to grab a few more winks.”

  “So how’d it go?” We heard Saren holler as he walked toward us across the sand.

  “Why, we can’t divulge a thing about our gathering,” Sybile said. “It might damage all that female spirit that we conjured. I will say though, it was a fun time. But now I’m ready to return to my creature comforts.”

  I laughed as I joined the others in gathering up our belongings. “Yeah, I have to say that I’m looking forward to a nice hot shower.” Walking over to Sybile, I leaned down to hug her. “And you go home and behave yourself. Take a nap and rest.”

  “And you,” Sybile said into my ear, “you remember all that I told you last night.”

  37

  Streams of rain fell into the garden while I sat knitting on the balcony. The late-August afternoon reminded me more of autumn in New England. Rain had pelted the island for two days as the weathermen talked about a tropical depression possibly ending up in the Gulf.

  Laying my knitting in my lap, I pulled a cigarette from the case, lit it, and exhaled smoke into the air. The dreary, rainy afternoon prompted me to recall the day I’d been caught without an umbrella and Noah had driven me home. According to Alison he’d returned to the island a few days before but I hadn’t seen him, nor had he contacted me. I had been debating whether to call him to say thank you for the flowers—but had neglected to take that step.

  Sybile’s medical condition had declined over the past week causing me to make frequent trips to the Lighthouse. Saren was now staying there full time to care for Sybile and both had indicated that they welcomed my visits and medical assistance.

  Monica was calling daily for updates and Dora also relied on me for a nurse’s opinion of what might happen next.

  Based on Sybile’s weakness and twenty-four-hour assistance of oxygen to breathe, I had told my aunt, “I think the end is coming.”

  The ringing telephone interrupted my thoughts and I answered to hear Dora’s voice. “Saren had to take Sybile to the hospital this morning. She had a real bad spell during the night.” The woman paused as a sob escaped her throat. “Do you think this is it, Sydney?”

  Stamping out the cigarette in the ashtray, I let out a deep sigh. “I don’t know, Dora. I’m not sure what to say. What are the doctors saying?”

  “Saren said he’ll call as soon as he knows anything.”

  “Then I’m afraid all we can do is wait. Do you want me to come over?”

  Dora hesitated. “No, I’m alright. But if she’s not coming back home, maybe we could drive to Gainesville together to see her.”

  “Of course we will. You call me as soon as you hear anything.”

  Hanging up the phone, I sat staring out over the garden while the rain continued to fall. Nine months ago this news wouldn’t have affected me any more than if Sybile was simply Dora’s sister. But she was much more than that—she was the woman that had given me life. A woman I had not only come to know but had developed feelings for.

  “Damn her,” I said out loud, as tears trickled down my cheeks. “Damn her for making me care.”

  “So she’s coming home tomorrow?” Monica asked.

  I nodded into the phone. “Yes. The doctor said there isn’t much more they can do for her, but this time they’re sending her home with hospice.”

  “How’d Sybile feel about that?”

  “Ornery. Which tells me she’s probably feeling a bit better than two days ago when she went in the hospital. She raised a ruckus at first—said she didn’t want any stranger staying in her house while she took her sweet time leaving this earth.”

  Monica laughed. “Yup, she’s not quite on her deathbed yet. What made her change her mind on the hospice nurse?”

  “Saren. He assured her he’d stay there with her too. He does have a way with her.”

  “Do you think I should come to the island?”

  “I’d wait a bit yet. See how she does once she gets home.”

  “Okay. Well, keep me posted. Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you too,” I said, hanging up the phone.

  Lilly’s whining drew my attention away from the call. Glancing at the clock, I
said, “Yup, time to get to the shop. Let’s get your leash on.”

  Opening the door to leave, I found Twila Faye, hand in air, ready to knock.

  “I have a little something here for Miss Sybile. Alison said she’s coming home tomorrow.”

  Taking the gift bag, I smiled. “Thank you. I’ll be sure she gets it. That’s really nice of you.”

  “Just a little something. Two jars of my homemade blueberry preserves. Thought she might like it on toast.”

  “I’m sure she will,” I said, placing it on the kitchen counter.

  “Off to open the yarn shop?”

  “Yeah, I’ve gotten behind in orders what with Sybile getting worse.”

  “I imagine poor Dora is taking time to be with her sister too. If I can help out at all, you just let me know, okay?”

  “I really appreciate that, Twila Faye,” I said, following her down the stairs.

  Later that afternoon Polly entered Spinning Forward carrying a large box. I looked up from addressing labels for orders. “Got your hands full there,” I said.

  Polly placed the carton on the sofa. “All this here stuff, it’s for Miss Sybile. We heard she was coming home and a lot of the women wanted to give her a little something. Just to let her know they’re thinking of her.”

  I got up to peek into the box as tears filled my eyes. A jar of honey. A few books. A small pillow with the embroidered words Get Well. A tin of home-baked cookies. “What a nice thing to do. I’ll be sure Sybile gets this tomorrow.”

  “Well, we’re all feeling mighty bad. Oh, she wasn’t always the easiest person to get along with, but we sure didn’t want to see this happen to her.”

  “Thank you, Polly.”

  “You take care now. And if there’s anything we can do, anything at all, you be sure to let me know, hear?”

  For the second time that day I acknowledged thanks for an offer of help.

  Just before closing I heard the wind chimes tinkle and looked up to see Noah walk in. Butterflies twittered in the pit of my stomach. Dammit, but he was handsome. This man oozed sex appeal. My hand shook as I placed a skein of yarn into a packing box.

  “Hi, Sydney,” was all he said with a neutral expression on his face.

  “It’s…It’s good to see you,” I stammered while noticing once again how well he wore a pair of jeans. A deep tan created a bronze glow, making the contrast with his silver hair even sharper. Attempting to control my nervousness, I said, “Thank you for the flowers.”

  “It was my pleasure. How was the gathering? Did your soul soar?”

  I smiled while fingering an ink pen. “I’m not sure, but it was a fun night. Magical.”

  “We all need a bit of magic in our life.” Noah leaned over to pat Lilly.

  “We do.”

  “The reason I came by was to tell you I’m sorry to hear that Sybile isn’t doing well.”

  I let out a deep sigh. “She isn’t. She’ll be home tomorrow with a hospice nurse. I don’t think it’ll be much longer….”

  “Doesn’t sound good.” Walking over to the coffeepot, he poured himself a cup.

  “Oh, that’s been there since this afternoon.” I attempted to take the cup from him. “I can make a fresh pot. It’ll just take a second.”

  “Only if you’ll join me.”

  I nodded and went into the back room to fill the carafe with water. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out, my thoughts raced. Was coming here just a friendly gesture on his part? Was he willing to forget my behavior about Valerie? And where exactly did we go from here?

  Pouring the water into the coffeemaker, I felt him walk up behind me and the heat in the room seemed to get notched up a few degrees.

  “How’re you doing?” he asked.

  Turning around, I locked my eyes with his and felt an overwhelming urge to cry. To start crying and not stop. Instead, I moved away from him and sat on the sofa. “That’ll be ready in just a minute.” Shoving a hand through my hair I said, “I’m okay. This has turned out to be a lot tougher than I thought it would.”

  Noah sat across from me in the chair. “Why’s that?”

  “Because in the beginning, I didn’t even like Sybile. I thought she was self-centered and mean and…”

  “And now?”

  “And now, I still think she has a tendency to be that way, but—but over time I’ve gotten to know her better.” Fighting to control the tears forming in my eyes, I said, “Dammit,” both for the tears and for my emotion toward Sybile. “Dammit, I don’t think I really intended to get close to her. Do you know what I mean?”

  Noah got up and poured coffee into two mugs. Passing one to me, he said, “Yeah, I know what you mean. The same way you never intended to get close to me, right?”

  I lowered my head, staring into the brown liquid.

  “That’s how life is. We can’t control our feelings and emotions, Sydney. You might try—but it doesn’t work.” He took a sip of coffee and when I didn’t speak, he went on. “We had something going between us. I’m pretty sure we still do. I care for you—a lot. You were right when you told me this wasn’t just about Valerie. It was about much more than that. It was about you being unsure and afraid. Afraid to take another chance with a man. Unsure if you’d be hurt again.”

  Still not looking Noah in the face, I nodded. What was it I had asked to be released and taken in the night of the blue-moon gathering? To release fear and take in understanding. “You’re right,” I said softly. “I wanted a guarantee that wouldn’t happen.”

  “And life has no guarantees, does it?”

  I shook my head.

  “You were right about something else. Maybe I was smothering you. Maybe it’s an annoying habit of mine. And I apologize for that.”

  My face shot up to stare directly at Noah. In all my years with Stephen, he had never once said he was sorry. For anything. “I’m sorry too—for the way I’ve acted. You didn’t deserve that.”

  “Neither one of us did,” he said, standing up. “You’re going through a hard time right now. You need some space. But if you feel the need to talk to someone, call me. It isn’t my plan to pressure you, but if you need or want anything you know where to find me.” Leaning over, he touched my shoulder as he kissed my cheek.

  Hearing the wind chimes tinkle, I knew that what I wanted was to feel the security of his arms around me.

  “I agree with Noah,” Alison said. “Now isn’t the time for you to be confronting your relationship with him. You have too much going on with Sybile.”

  I nodded while squeezing lemon into my tea. “You’re both probably right.”

  “We are.”

  “I’ve missed him these past few months while he was gone. More than I thought I would.”

  “And if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen, Syd. You’re very vulnerable right now. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “I’ve been a bear, haven’t I? Creating such a scene about Valerie.”

  “More like a bitch.”

  “I can always depend on you to set me straight.”

  Alison laughed. “Hey, what’re best friends for? I’ve never coddled you, and I’m not about to start now.”

  I smiled. “So what I need to do is just—let go. Just be.”

  “Ah, now that’s the smartest thing I’ve heard you say in ages.”

  I finished off the tea and stood up. Placing the cup and saucer in the sink, I said, “Thanks, Ali. Thanks for always being there for me. You really are the best friend a woman could have.”

  “I won’t argue with that. It’s after eleven and you look beat. Get outta here and get to bed.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a long day and who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

  38

  The following day I was standing on the deck of the Lighthouse waiting for Sybile’s arrival home. Taking deep breaths of the salt air, my mind wandered back to the past nine months. Nine months. I found the number symbolic. It had taken nine months for me to grow inside of Sybile�
��s womb. Nine months for me to emerge from Sybile into the world and my life. And it had taken nine months for me to develop a relationship with my mother.

  Sybile had given my name to hospice—the contact person to be called for information. A registered nurse from hospice had called me the day before. She’d explained that a hospital bed would be delivered that afternoon and a nurse would come by to do the initial assessment after Sybile arrived home.

  My attention was drawn to the gravel driveway and the sound of Saren’s car. Racing down the steps, I hollered, “Welcome home,” as I approached the passenger side. Seeing Sybile caused my heart to lurch. In just a few days there had been a significant transformation. Sybile’s skin had turned gray and pasty. New lines had formed on her face. She was failing. Brushing aside any sadness, I opened the door, leaned in, and said, “Well, are you ready to go dancing tonight?” as I kissed Sybile’s cheek.

  “As a matter of fact, I am. Did ya hire the band?” Sybile allowed me to support her out of the car and slowly up the stairs.

  Saren was removing flowers and a piece of luggage from the trunk. “You girls go on ahead. I’ll bring this stuff up.”

  Each step that I took with my mother forced the realization this was the last time that Sybile would make this ascent.

  “Bed or sofa?” I asked, leading the way into the kitchen.

  “What the hell is that?” Sybile asked, pointing at the hospital bed in the living room. The chrome-sided bed had been placed in a corner, looking incongruous beside the gaily polished wood of the piano.

  Noticing Sybile’s increased difficulty breathing, I led her to the sofa, placing the oxygen tube to her nostrils. “Exactly what it looks like. A bed.”

  Taking a few deep breaths, Sybile said, “Well, it sure as hell isn’t my bed and I’m not sleeping in it.”

  “You don’t have to,” Saren said, entering the kitchen. “The doctor recommended it in case you thought it might be more comfortable.”

  “That’s crap and you know it. He ordered it for me to die in. My death chamber. Well, I plan to die in my own damn bed.”