The Mailbox

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The Mailbox Page 11

by Marybeth Whalen


  “So he’s fine with paying to file all the papers and make all the arrangements,” she said. “He just wants it taken care of. We’ll backdate the separation to the day I left, so that the year of waiting can be shortened and we can be divorced without dragging this out.”

  Campbell nodded, staring at her as though she were an alien that had landed in his office. “Campbell!” she yelled. “Quit looking at me like that! Say something!”

  He stared at her for another moment. “Seems to me,” he said, “that the first thing a good mother would do is ask about the daughter she hasn’t seen in months.”

  He could almost see the smoke come out of Ellie’s ears. “I hate you, Campbell!” she screamed before turning on her stiletto heel and clicking back out of his office. When the door shut behind her, he smiled. He had just been set free.

  Summer 1992

  Dear Kindred Spirit,

  I saw Campbell yesterday. It took six years for it to happen, but it finally did. As much as I hate to admit it, my heart started flopping around in my chest like one of those fish Campbell and I used to watch the fishermen pull in at the pier. He walked right by me on the beach with his little girl, a cute blonde thing who looks like a girl version of him. He looked exactly the same, yet older somehow. Wiser, maybe. Experienced, maybe. He’s someone’s father.

  I will only admit this here to you, because I tell you everything and because Grant will never see it. I did look at his left hand, trying to see if he wore a wedding ring, then I felt instantly guilty for looking.

  I know our time together is over and we have both moved on, but in that moment, I felt drawn to him, the magnet in my chest pulling me in his direction just as it has since I was a teenager. Silly, I know. Certainly not the thoughts that a married woman should be having. And yet, there they were.

  And for the record, I couldn’t tell if he wore a ring or not. I can only assume he does, since last I heard he had married Ellie. He told me himself that he had married her. But it doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t. I am married. And we have a baby coming. I took the pregnancy test today after Grant left. You, Kindred Spirit, are the first to know. I will tell Grant when I get home after I spend the weekend with Holly. I just hope he’s happy about it. Lately he hasn’t seemed like he will be. One year in and I feel like my marriage is coming apart. I hope the baby will make things better. Don’t tell me how stupid that logic is, Kindred Spirit. I already know.

  Until next summer,

  Lindsey

  Chapter 16

  Sunset Beach

  Summer 2004

  When Campbell woke that first morning with Nikki back home with him and the smell of bacon and coffee mingling in the air, he lay in bed for a moment, allowing himself to feel that all was right with the world. He wanted to live in denial for just a little while before reality resurfaced. Slowly the facts emerged: He had just pulled his daughter from a hospital because she starved herself to the point of collapse. And later that day he had to take her to church for some pretty intense counseling. But in the meantime, lying in the bedroom he had slept in his whole life, with the beach just a few hundred feet away, all was right with the world.

  He turned to check the time and stretched, a prayer forming. He closed his eyes as he lay comfortably in bed, quietly imploring his God for help.

  He stood up and walked over to his bedroom window, feeling hopeful and positive and ready for whatever the day might bring. Outside, the day was bright and sparkling, already hot. He could feel the heat radiating off the panes of glass. Another July day at Sunset Beach.

  He headed downstairs, tiptoeing past Nikki’s closed door, only to run smack into her in the hall.

  “Hi,” she said, blinking back at him. He let out an awkward laugh.

  How long had it been since they spent the night under the same roof? She looked away, glancing down at her running shoes, shame etched on her face. What was she ashamed of? Him? The situation? Herself? Boney legs stuck out from her running shorts and stick-like arms sprouted from an old Nike shirt he remembered throwing away years ago. He absently wondered how she wound up with it. It was worn in places, looking as soft as a baby’s blanket from years of wear. She wore her hair in a ponytail like her mother had that day at the hospital, and she had earbuds in her ears. He could hear faint music emanating from them.

  He pointed at her ears. “Going somewhere?” he shouted.

  She pointed down at the shoes on her feet in answer. “Running,” she said, a bit too loudly because of the music.

  In his mind he scanned the pamphlet about anorexia that the doctors had given him at the hospital. It listed constant exercise as a symptom. He wondered about making an issue and decided not to. He felt his stress mounting, the beautiful day sinking like a setting sun. His mind began to race with thoughts: I can’t handle this! I’m not a police officer. I’m not a doctor. I’m not a psychiatrist. What if she gets worse on my watch? He forced the feelings back down and smiled in a way that he hoped looked convincing.

  “Did you eat?” he asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

  She looked back at him, one hand on her hip. “Dad,” she said, “Grandma already asked me that. You two are quite a pair.” She brushed past him and headed down the stairs. He heard the door to the porch slam and went to the window to watch her sprint away from the house.

  When he walked into the kitchen, his mother looked at him warily. She shook her head. “I couldn’t get her to eat a bite,” she said, sounding defeated.

  A thought occurred to him: What if she came to Sunset because she didn’t want to get better and thought she could fool them more easily than her mother and Oz, who was, after all, a medical professional? He fought the urge to pick up the phone and call Ellie, to tell her it was all a mistake and he was bringing Nikki home that afternoon, when the phone rang. His mother answered, and he heard her tell the caller he would be right there. She handed him the phone. He expected to hear her say “Minerva” but instead she mouthed the word “Ellie.” Speak of the devil herself.

  “Campbell, is she there?” Ellie whispered.

  He couldn’t resist. “Why are we whispering?” he taunted.

  She laughed nervously. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want her to hear me. Don’t tell me how ridiculous I am.”

  Remembering the sight of Nikki sprinting out the front door, he swallowed before responding. “Well, to answer your question, no. She’s not here. She just left.” He paused a beat. “To go on a run.” Ellie said nothing, deciding, he knew, whether to yell at him or let it go, give them time. She exhaled, the sound magnified by the mouthpiece like she was blowing in his ear.

  He decided to forego her lecture by agreeing with her. “I don’t think I can do this,” he said. “I’m not cut out for this. I want to be her dad, not a policeman. I am scared to death I am going to screw this up. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this so quickly.”

  Ellie laughed, a bitter sound that lodged in his chest, close to his heart, his vulnerable, exposed heart. “Campbell, that’s the part of raising her you missed out on. Being her dad is being a policeman sometimes. Don’t tell me about doubting your ability to do this, Campbell. You are so doing this. Do you hear me? You have to. For ten years you have taken her for a few days here and there, plied her with ice cream and sand castles and then given her back. This time you have to gut this out.” In the background he heard a sound, a door slamming and keys jingling.

  “Think of it this way. You can’t screw her up more than I have. I have to go,” she said suddenly and then hung up. Campbell stared at the phone in his hand, the dial tone buzzing loudly.

  His mom stood at the stove, pretending not to be listening. “Well,” he said. “That went well.”

  She turned from frying bacon and smiled at him, but worry was clearly lurking just underneath. If they were in over their he
ads, there would be no deciding to send her back. Ellie wouldn’t—or couldn’t—take her back. He smiled back at his mom, going along with their charade. She put bacon on a plate and handed it to him.

  He sat at the breakfast table after his mom urged him to sit at the place she had set for him, complete with fresh-squeezed orange juice and folded napkins. She had tried to make Nikki’s first meal there special. He could see the street from where he sat, so he scanned it for a glimpse of Nikki. People walked back and forth, some coming from an early morning walk on the beach, their pockets bulging with shells, brushing the sand from their shorts. Others headed out for the day—renters intent on wringing out every bit of daylight they had to spend on the shore. They pulled wagons laden with beach chairs, radios, sand toys, and coolers. Their children walked or sat in strollers. They looked so happy, so hopeful, exactly like what he wanted.

  He remembered when Nikki stopped coming to Sunset, back when she was in high school, and the horrible way he responded. Hurt and full of pride he had vowed not to go to her if she wouldn’t come to him. It had started with a phone call from Ellie.

  When the phone rang the day she was supposed to arrive to spend fall break with him, he expected it to be Nikki saying she was late leaving or confirming her directions. She had only driven to Sunset alone one other time, and he was nervous about her driving by herself. He picked up the handset and said, “Yellow!” instead of “hello” just like he used to when she was little and still thought that was hilarious. He hoped he didn’t sound like an idiot to her and it could still make her laugh. His daughter, he reminded himself, wasn’t six years old anymore.

  “Campbell?” It was Ellie, not Nikki.

  “Yeah, Ellie, everything okay?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. But Nikki just had a situation come up and she asked me to call you.” Campbell could feel his pulse quicken. He sensed that what Ellie was about to say wasn’t good.

  Ellie went on. “Nikki got chosen to be on homecoming court at her school. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  He thought of Ellie on homecoming court years ago, a baby Nikki quietly growing inside of her before anyone knew. He stood beside her on the football field in a stiff suit feeling uncomfortable and thinking about someone else. “Sure,” he said.

  “Well, there is a lot we need to get done between now and then and, looking at our schedules, this long weekend is all the time we are going to have to get all her shopping taken care of.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Well, I could take her shopping. Or my mom could.”

  Ellie laughed. “Campbell, she wants to go with me. It’s what moms do, not dads. Nikki wants to stay here and shop with her friends and their moms. She’ll really be missing out if she goes to Sunset.” Ellie paused. “She feels just awful about it, Campbell. That’s why she asked me to call for her.”

  Standing in the window looking for his skeletally thin daughter, he realized he had spent her whole life painting himself as the victim. Poor me, I got a girl pregnant but I didn’t love her. Poor me, I’m stuck in a bad marriage. Poor me, my wife left me. Poor me, now my daughter’s leaving me too.

  It wasn’t Nikki’s fault that she had ended up away from him. He should have made more effort to be with her instead of demanding that she come to him every time. It was time for him to take responsibility for his actions and start making it up to the people he had hurt. At least the ones he was allowed to make it up to.

  As he watched for his daughter, he decided to tell her how sorry he was and admit that even fathers have to grow up sometimes.

  w

  Nikki returned much later, sweaty and red-faced. If she had run all that time, Campbell thought, they were in dangerous territory. He went up to her room shortly after she had been home and paused before knocking on her door. He knew what a stalker dad it made him look like, hot on her heels like that. But maybe Ellie was right—maybe policing was part of his job.

  He tapped lightly, hearing the thunk, thunk of her running shoes hitting the wood floor as she tore them off, one by one, still breathing heavily from her run.

  “Yes?” she said, her words coming out in a huff.

  “It’s Dad,” he said hesitantly. “Can I come in?”

  “Uh, no. I’m like, getting ready to take a shower.”

  “Oh, okay. Well, I just wanted to remind you that we have your first appointment in about an hour. You’ve got just enough time to get showered and have some lunch before we go, okay?” he added hopefully.

  “Ummm-hmmm,” she responded through the closed door.

  Feeling restless, he went to the front of the house and stood looking out, just in time to see Minerva’s car pull into the drive. She got out of her car toting an assortment of bags from Food Lion. He moved to help her, grabbing the bags and then opening the door for her.

  She limped past him. “Thanks, honey,” she said and headed into the kitchen, hollering for his mother and huffing and puffing dramatically. “LaRae! Get out here and see what I brought,” she yelled loudly enough for the people passing by outside to hear. She looked over at Campbell as he dropped the bags onto the kitchen counter.

  “Don’t y’all have a counseling appointment?” she said, he thought a little too accusingly.

  He rolled his eyes at her. “Yup. We leave in an hour,” he said with an overwide smile and began rummaging through the bags. “Um, Minerva? What’s with the groceries? Chocolate ice cream? Oreos? Microwave popcorn with extra butter? Peanut Butter Captain Crunch? Are you crazy?” He said in a hushed voice as he looked over at her and raised his eyebrows.

  She threw her hands up. “I just thought that I would inspire Nikki a bit. I know you and your mama keep all this health food stuff around, and I thought that maybe having some of the right”—she grabbed the bag of Oreos and waved them around—“inspiration would help the child.” She waggled her eyebrows back at him, clearly impressed with herself.

  He didn’t have the heart to tell her about the literature he read that said that most girls who struggle with anorexia avoid junk food at all costs and the best way to get them interested in eating is by offering healthy alternatives. He reached into the bags and began putting the items away, wondering who would eat all that junk.

  “Oh!” Minerva suddenly exclaimed, hitting the countertop. “Do you remember that girl that you were seeing that summer? You know, before Ellie?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat and tried to steady his voice. “Uh, yeah, I do. Why?”

  “Funniest thing,” she said, looking pointedly at him. “I ran into her while you and your mama were gone to get Nikki. I found her standing in front of the house when I stopped by. I came to water your mama’s flowers for her, and there she was, just looking up at the house.” She laughed. “I think I scared her half to death! You know, she still looks just the same as she always did. Like no time’s gone by at all. What was her name again? The old memory ain’t what it used to be,” she rapped on her head with her knuckles.

  “Lindsey,” he said. He found it hard to say her name out loud. It got caught in his throat, probably from being lodged inside for so long.

  “Yes, that’s right. Lindsey! Such a pretty name for such a pretty little thing like her. I remember—”

  He interrupted her, betraying any efforts he might have made toward playing it cool. “Did you talk to her?” he asked.

  “Well, of course, Campbell. Have you ever known me to meet someone and not strike up a conversation?” She laughed at herself.

  “What did she say?”

  “Well, not much about herself, actually. There seemed to be something not … right about her if you ask me. There just seemed to be a sadness hanging over her. If anyone knows people it’s me, you know.” She paused. “I’m sure there’s a story there.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t drag it out of her,” he mumbled under his bre
ath.

  “What did you say, Campbell? You know you have to speak up around me—these old ears just aren’t what they used to be.”

  Just then, Nikki came down the stairs, calling out his name.

  “I’ll be in the car!” Nikki hollered as she raced out the front door in a blur.

  He hastily shoved the sloppy sandwich he had made into a bag in a futile attempt to persuade her to eat on the way.

  She was here, he thought as he made his way to the car. He suddenly felt closer to Lindsey than he had in years.

  Chapter 17

  Sunset Beach

  Summer 2004

  When Lindsey returned to the beach house after her morning run, she found the kids squabbling over whose turn it was to play a video game. She raised her voice to be heard over their yelling and ended up threatening to throw the whole game system into the ocean.

  “You don’t have to yell at us like that, Mom,” Anna said. Lindsey restrained herself from explaining again why she had to yell in order to be heard over their shouting. Instead she just sighed and told them to get ready to go to the beach. Even coming so close to Campbell moments ago had not dampened the exasperating effect the children’s bickering could have on her.

  “We’re tired of the beach,” Jake whined. Already.

  She leveled them both with her best Terminator Mom look. “Just go get ready,” she said, in a voice that meant business. To their credit, they obeyed without further argument.

  “If you’re tired of the ocean, you better pack stuff to do! Because we are going to be out there for a while!” she yelled at their retreating backs. She saw Jake shake his head and knew Anna rolled her eyes.

  She headed into her bedroom, which was her aunt and uncle’s room when she visited as a kid. The best and largest room of the house, it featured a bank of windows stretching across one wall, each one filled with a sweeping view of the Intracoastal Waterway. She loved to lie in bed and stare out the windows, watching seabirds swoop down to catch tiny fish, studying the way the sunlight glinted off the water. She could tell whether it was high tide or low just by looking out, which made her feel natural and earthy, in tune with the tides, the pull of the moon, the way nature ebbed and flowed, dancing along to some unspoken rhythm. She felt more at peace there, close to the water, than she ever did in her landlocked home.

 

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