by Dan Walsh
Dr. Mendelson was, essentially, Jack’s boss at Culpepper University. If he had insisted Aileen call, she really didn’t have a choice. The other slightly irritating thing was hearing Aileen refer to him as “Dr. Turner.” Jack had received his doctorate a few months ago but didn’t enjoy everyone on staff addressing him so formally. But Dr. Mendelson had insisted on it, insisting it was a show of respect.
Jack put his hand over the phone. “I’m going to take this outside.” As he opened the patio door, he said, “Okay, Aileen. What’s going on?” He closed the door and leaned up against the wood railing, facing the water.
“Dr. Watson has been in a car accident.”
“Oh no,” Jack said. “Is he all right? How serious was it?”
“I don’t have all the details,” Aileen said. “Just what his personal assistant told me when she called about thirty minutes ago. It didn’t happen here. It happened back in Cincinnati, on his way to the airport. The taxi he was riding in got T-boned at an intersection. The driver’s in critical condition. Dr. Watson’s condition is listed as serious. He has some broken bones and a concussion, but his assistant said he’s expected to make a full recovery.”
“I understand,” Jack said. He was responsible for a huge annual fundraising gala this weekend back in Culpepper. Hundreds of alumni, many of them big donors to the school, planned to attend. The only way Jack could get Dr. Mendelson to agree to let him schedule his honeymoon this week was to bring in a guest speaker that Dr. Mendelson would see as talented as Jack, if not more. When Jack told Mendelson that Dr. Watson had agreed to come, a big smile came over his face. “Okay, now you can go.”
Jack was sure, with this news, that smile was no longer present on Dr. Mendelson’s face.
“As you know, Dr. Turner,” Aileen said, “Dr. Watson was scheduled to speak at both the luncheon tomorrow at twelve thirty, and then again at the big gala tomorrow—”
“I know, Aileen. I’m the one who set up the schedule, remember?”
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Turner. I know how much you and Mrs. Turner were looking forward to this New England trip. I asked Dr. Mendelson what instructions he wanted me to give you. You know, to gauge his expectations. It seems he’s really just concerned about the two big events. I don’t think you’d have to cancel your whole trip. I looked up some flight information. You’re in Chatham now, right?”
“Yep.”
“I did some checking. It’s about a forty-five minute drive to Hyannis. There’s a nice municipal airport there. If you leave within the hour, you can make a flight to Boston’s Logan Airport and easily catch one of several flights from Logan back to Atlanta this evening. Dr. Mendelson said to spare no expense, so you’d be flying first class all the way. Both of you. He agreed to pay for Mrs. Turner’s flights here and back. I can get you guys on the same setup flying back to Cape Cod on Sunday morning. You could be back on track enjoying the rest of your honeymoon by Sunday afternoon.”
Jack sighed. Until this moment, their honeymoon had been perfect. Not a single thing had gone wrong. He and Rachel had joked about it on the drive here. Trips never go this smoothly. He was expecting something more like a flat tire, a couple of rainy days, maybe one of them catching a cold.
Not something like this.
“Dr. Turner? What do you think? Should I book the flights?”
Jack really had no choice. There was no one at the school he could delegate this assignment to, no other guest speaker he could grab on such short notice. He was just about to say yes, when he got an idea. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but at least it was a way to make the next forty-eight hours a little more pleasant for his new bride. “Go ahead and book the flights, Aileen. But just for me.”
“You’ll be traveling alone? It’s really okay if you bring Rachel. Dr. Mendelson said it was the least he could do, since he was interrupting your—”
“No, I’ll be traveling alone. We just got here. She’s really enjoying this place. And most of the reason for including the stop here in Chatham was for her to get some time with my grandmother. There’s no reason that part of the trip has to end. So go ahead and book the flights, but just for me. Could you also set me up with an Uber driver for the drive from here to Hyannis? That way I can leave our car here for Rachel, in case she needs it.”
“You sure you don’t want a taxi? I could probably even get a limo, since we’re not paying for Mrs. Turner’s tickets.”
“An Uber driver’s fine. Thanks. And thanks for setting this all up.”
“I really am so sorry.”
“I know. It’s not your fault.” He said goodbye and hung up.
When he turned around, Rachel was still inside, standing behind the French door sipping her coffee mug. A concerned expression on her face. He motioned for her to come outside. He knew this news would disappoint her, but she wouldn’t freak out or say anything to make him feel guilty. She’d worked at the university, too. She knew how things went.
“Is everything alright?” she asked.
“Not really.”
Jack’s grandmother came out behind Rachel then stepped around her toward the outdoor table. “Then why don’t you two have a seat over here by me and, Jack, you can tell us all about it. No sense letting this perfectly good cup of coffee go to waste.”
“I don’t know if I have time, Grandma. I need to get my things together. An Uber driver will be on his way here shortly to get me.”
“An Uber driver?” Rachel repeated. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You said, get you. Are you going somewhere, and I’m staying here?”
“That’s what I was thinking. Let me explain what happened.”
“That’s a good idea,” Grandma said. “But why don’t you sit here and explain it to us over coffee? You don’t have to get your things all together. You didn’t unpack yet, did you?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Then you can take a minute, catch your breath and explain what’s going on.”
Jack laughed. She may be old and frail and weigh less than ninety pounds, but she was most definitely in charge. He and Rachel joined her at the table. Over the next five minutes, Jack explained the situation, including his plan to leave Rachel here until he got back.
Rachel’s heart sank as the realization of Jack’s news sunk in. Her immediate reaction was to insist that she be allowed to join him on this detour back to the university. But Jack began to explain how crazy-busy he would be over the next two days and how little real quality time they would have together.
“Contrary to that,” Jack continued, “you could have the most wonderful, refreshing time in this beautiful setting, with this magnificent view and all these lovely yellow flowers and blooming bushes all around…and spend some undistracted, quality time getting to know one of the most remarkable women I’ve ever met, who also just happens to be my grandmother.”
Rachel reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “As usual, you make a most convincing argument Dr. Turner.”
“That’s right, Jack. I forgot you received your PhD a few months ago,” his grandmother said. “I forgot to congratulate you…Dr. Turner.”
Jack smiled. “Thanks, Grandma. But there’s no way in the world you’re going to start calling me that.”
“But I do like the sound of it,” she said. “You’re the first Turner to be given that honor. I always knew you were smart. Just like your grandfather. He was a brilliant man, too. In his own way.”
Rachel noticed her looking away, as if she was seeing him now.
“That’s one of the reasons why I love talking to you so much,” Grandma said. “You sound just like he did when he was your age. And you resemble him so much.”
“I may look a little like him, and sound like him, but that’s where the comparisons end I’m afraid. Grandpa was such a man of action. Like Rachel’s dad. Did I tell you he was an Air Force general, too? Those men made history. All I do is teach it.”
<
br /> “I beg to differ, sir,” Rachel said. “All you do is teach it? You don’t think you’re a man of action, as you put it?” She looked at Grandma. “Did he tell you that last year he rescued me from a kidnapper and stopped a murderer who was just about to kill a police sergeant back home? He made the local TV news and the whole city honored him with a big award. The mayor gave it to Jack himself.”
“No, he didn’t tell me any of this.” She looked at Jack. “But I can’t say I’m surprised to hear it. I guess the legacy of the first Jack Turner lives on in you, Jack. A lot more than you know.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jack said, “but that’s another great reason for you to stay here, Rachel, until I get back. Grandma, are you still willing to tell Rachel Grandpa’s story even if I’m not here? I don’t mean the short version, either. I mean the long one. As I recall, it took almost two days to hear all the different parts. I want her to hear it all. Like you said, she’s family now.”
Grandma thought a moment, smiled and said. “Of course.” She reached for Rachel’s hand. “She may not look very much like me, or sound very much like me, but I can tell she loves you every bit as much as I loved your grandfather.”
Jack stood. “Thanks, Grandma. I better get my stuff down from upstairs. I don’t know when that driver will be here, but it could be soon.” He leaned down and kissed Rachel.
“See, even the way you kiss her, reminds me of your grandfather.” Grandma smiled at Rachel. “But you know, Jack’s grandfather wasn’t the first man in my life, or even the first man I thought I was going to marry.”
“This is such a great story,” Jack said.
“Then who was?” Rachel asked.
“It was Elliot, his twin brother. And Elliot wasn’t even an American.”
4
The following morning, Rachel awoke and rolled over in bed, her eyes still half-closed. She reached for Jack and was startled by the empty space beside her. Then she remembered. He’d left yesterday afternoon. They’d only been sleeping together two months, and she was already completely used to him being there when she awoke.
She already missed him.
The clock on the dresser informed her it was 7:49AM. Back home in Culpepper, Jack was probably already up, either having his quiet time or doing his Muay Thai routines. She had decided to take Grandma’s advice last night. “Don’t you go setting your alarm tomorrow. You’re on vacation.” She then said no matter what time Rachel got up, she’d find some fresh coffee waiting for her downstairs in a carafe and homemade blueberry muffins in the breadbox.
Rachel sat up and immediately glanced out the window, past the trees and lawn at the water. In the distance, a bright yellow sailboat drifted by. “Jack would have loved this.” As she stood, she reached for her bathrobe hanging on a post by the foot of the bed. She was glad to feel a slight nip in the air.
She walked to the French doors with the thought of enjoying the view more fully on the balcony. But as soon as she opened the door, the chilly air rushing in changed her mind. Maybe I won’t be having my morning coffee out here after all.
She walked back toward the master bath, deciding to wash her face and take stock of things. Should she take a shower now or wait until after breakfast? Coffee had already begun to whisper her name. After fiddling with her hair in front of the mirror, and considering how gracious Grandma was, Rachel was convinced she could afford to go downstairs, as is.
She became aware of a fresh, almost fragrant scent in the room and wondered where it came from. There weren’t any air fresheners plugged into the outlets. It seemed stronger by the shower. She pulled back the curtain and was greeted by a brass vase full of bright yellow daffodils sitting atop a stool. A note taped to the front said:
So very sorry to leave you on our honeymoon, my love.
Even for two days. Enjoy these and your time with Grandma. Will be thinking of you constantly.
Love, Jack
How had he managed to sneak these up here? She carefully lifted the vase of flowers and walked them to the dresser so she could see them better. She smelled them up close. They were pleasant but it wasn’t a strong, flowery smell.
She put on her slippers and headed downstairs. As promised, Grandma was already up and sitting with a coffee mug at a dinette table in front of the window.
“Good morning. I just put a fresh pot on when I heard your footsteps. Should be ready any minute.”
“You didn’t have to do that. It couldn’t have been that old.”
“I’ve been up for almost two hours. I don’t sleep during the night as much anymore. Of course, I take naps most afternoons like a toddler. This is my third cup of coffee. I know, I shouldn’t drink so much caffeine. But I love the taste of it so much, and it warms me up in the morning. And apparently, it’s not the thing that’s going to kill me.”
Rachel laughed. “You drink as much coffee as you want. You won’t get any looks from me. My father used to say, ‘Anyone makes it past eighty, gets to do whatever they want.’” The coffee pot stopped dripping, so Rachel filled her mug.
“Sounds like I would like your dad.”
“You definitely would. And he would love to meet you. He’s going to be so jealous when he hears I got to be with you, and I got to hear about your experiences in World War II. He served in the Vietnam era but, like Jack, he loves the World War II time period the best.” She walked her mug to the dinette table and sat across from Grandma. It dawned on her that Grandma had sat with her back facing the French doors, so Rachel could get the seat with a view of the water.
“Jack told me you have a really good relationship with your dad, and that you even took some military history classes just so you could have more in common with him. That’s remarkable to me. Seems like young people today are more likely to pull away from their parents than work that hard to connect with them.”
Rachel took a sip. It was so good. “I don’t know. Guess I never really thought about it that deeply. Growing up, I always loved my dad, but he was gone a lot. When he retired, I noticed how much he loved to read about military history. I found out I could use military history classes as electives for my political science degree. It seemed like a way to give us something to talk about. And it worked. It became so easy for us to talk together that now we can talk about all kinds of things.” She took another sip. “The best part about taking those courses was, I got to meet Jack.”
“I’m so glad you did. I’ve never seen him so happy.”
Rachel liked hearing that, coming from someone who would know.
“Are you hungry? There are those blueberry muffins, or I can make you some scrambled eggs and bacon.”
“I’ll get a muffin in a little while. My stomach hasn’t woken up yet.”
“I’m the same way,” Grandma said. “You eat whenever you’re ready.”
Neither spoke for a few moments. Then Grandma said, “When would you like me to begin telling you the story about how I met Jack’s grandfather?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” Rachel said. “I’m ready whenever you want to start. You could start now, if you’d like. But I want to say something first. Yesterday, I asked Jack if he was sure you really wanted to do this. He said you did. But I want to give you an opportunity to back out if you want. I’m sure there are all kinds of other things we could talk about.”
“You don’t want to hear how we met?”
“No, I really would like to hear it. It’s just…I know talking about traumatic times can be emotionally difficult. And war is certainly a traumatic thing. Even though my dad and I can talk about military history and other military things, he never really gets into the specifics of what he went through, especially in Vietnam. My mom said he doesn’t really talk about those things very much with her, either. But whenever he gets around his Vietnam vet friends, they talk openly and freely about everything. She said that’s because they can relate to everything he went through. It isn’t the same talking with someone who’d never experienc
ed the horrors of battle firsthand.”
Grandma didn’t reply at once. She seemed to be thinking. “I understand what you’re saying. There certainly is some truth to that. But I think that’s something men struggle with more than we do. A man can be friends with someone for several years, even call him his best friend, but still never share the things he hides in his heart. His hurts, wounds and fears…maybe for years. If a woman meets another woman on a park bench, and she senses that woman can understand her, she might start pouring her heart out in the next ten minutes. We’re just different that way.”
“Did Jack’s grandfather open up to you before he died?”
Grandma smiled. “He didn’t have to wait so long. Child, we went through most of the suffering together. We experienced equally horrible things during the war when we were apart. Our love was fused through the moments we experienced together and the times we poured our hearts out about what happened when we were apart. He was my comfort, and I was his.”
“So,” Rachel said, “he talked to you the way my father talks to his Vietnam war friends?” Grandma nodded. “And it doesn’t bother you to share these things with me, even though I’ve never…I’ve never gone through anything like that?”
Grandma shook her head no. “It won’t cause me any pain. I haven’t felt pain over these things for many years. If anything, it might be just the opposite. I love to remember anything that takes me back to those times when Jack and I first met. It was the most exciting time of my life. It set the stage for everything else that followed.”
Rachel smiled. Grandma had convinced her. She really wanted to hear the story, and now she could listen guilt-free. “Okay, I’m ready. Well, wait. I don’t want to interrupt you once you begin. I’m starting to get a little hungry. Maybe I should grab that blueberry muffin.”
Grandma stood with her mug. “You do that, and join me over on the sofa. We might as well be comfortable while we talk. This is going to take a little while.”
