by Tom Corbett
“Gotta go, so a big hug for you as well.” With that, Cate threw her arms around her uncle. “Same message for you, don’t screw things up.”
“What?” he started to ask, but the two women were walking into the area off limits to the public hand in hand. “Want any money for Vegas?” Josh called after them.
“No, save your money for our future children.”
Josh put his arm around his sister. “You raised a treasure there.”
“As did you,” replied Rachel.
“Me? What did I do?”
Rachel gave him a mock blow to the stomach. “You really are as dumb as you look. Why do you think she visited you every chance she got in recent years?”
“Well, I am charming. All the girls say so.”
“Yeah, right!” Rachel retorted. “You had replaced her dad, her biological dad. As he had less time for her, you became the male parent in her life, the one she looked toward. She loves you.”
“And I love her,” he said, still looking after her.
“It’s a mystery.”
“What is?” he asked absentmindedly.
“She is so smart and yet, she never saw through you. I tried to warn her but…”
Josh laughed and kissed the top of his sister’s head. They watched the two for as long as they were within their sight and long after. Finally, they turned and walked away as Josh mused about how often he was using that word: love.
CHAPTER 15
DAY 7
“Connie! Usha!” No response. The house was empty when Josh and Rachel returned from the airport to see the couple off.
“Where are they?” Josh asked. “Do you think they ran off together with my dog?”
“Truth is,” Rachel replied as she picked up a note left in clear view, “that your dog is desperately looking for someone to steal him.”
“Ungrateful cur, after giving him the best years of my life.”
“According to this note, they took your unfaithful canine for a walk along the shore. Apparently, he literally begged them to take him away from all this.” She looked up from the note smiling.
A few minutes later, Rachel and Josh saw their prey walking along the beach. Josh yet marveled how well his two former lovers got along. Apparently, he was not worth fighting over. They had not gotten very far along the beach. Walking was not their purpose. When they realized that the Connelly pair were trying to catch up, they stopped and moved toward them.
“The kids off okay?” Usha asked, leaving Connie’s side and walking toward Rachel.
“Yes, they are great. I’ve never seen my daughter so happy.” There was a hint of tension in Rachel’s voice.
“That’s nice,” Usha said in a wistful tone. “Everyone deserves…”
Rachel interrupted. “Usha…”
“Rachel, let me finish before I lose my nerve.” Usha moved toward Rachel. “When you left my room, I sensed great conflict in you. You seemed liberated but fearful in a way, almost as if you were fleeing or escaping. Perhaps we should have talked more rather than…In any case, I now want to get out how I feel about things. This has all been so fast and so unexpected. Hell, I just came to make sure this lug would, in fact, retire…His colleagues got in touch and begged me to help push him out the door. And you, Rachel, you were his barely remembered sister. I’m not totally sure, but the last time I saw you in person was when I got married to Josh and you were still with Evan. I had only the faintest recollection of a lovely woman who seemed so distant, untouchable. I was uncomfortable around you then.”
“I was going through the motions of being a dutiful sister at the time. I guess I was still hurting.”
“Yes, that’s obvious now.” Usha reached out and took Rachel’s hands. “I could feel the chill at the time, hard to miss. When we met the other day, though, I saw something very different. Here was this warm and funny and beautiful woman. It wasn’t your beauty that captured me, however. I saw someone who was caring and loving even as she was so accomplished. I thought I had fallen in love before. That is why I left Josh and took up with Rose. But it proved a rather misdirected stab at what I thought was intimacy. Still, it was the biggest step of my life other than the moment I finally stood up for what I was as a woman. But I think that was the thing. I was more enamored with taking some stand than I was with the person I was standing with. I thought I loved her. I convinced myself I did. In the end, she was more honest, more honest than I.”
“Can I…” Rachel tried.
“Just a bit more, please. Rose eventually found someone where the spark was real for her…where the feelings were not put on like today’s wardrobe. I was hurt but knew it was for the best. And I was lonely once again. Want to know something? In the back of my mind, I wondered if Josh might take me back. How is that for desperate thinking? Why not put an ad in the paper or on one of those silly dating sites? ‘Desperate woman who cannot get things right looking for a woman who will help in getting her life straightened out, desperate enough to take some poor male schlepp who will fake at being a husband.’ All considered, even total whackos.”
“Please…” Rachel reached out and took Usha’s hands in hers.
“Then you were suddenly there. You look very little like Josh—well, maybe the eyes. You know what struck me? The two of you are alike in so many ways, in ways that counted, inside. I don’t know if you noticed that first night, but I could not take my eyes off you. I cannot recall being attracted to another person so immediately and so fully. I kept thinking later about my response, what was happening. Then it struck me. I somehow already knew this person, even if we had only exchanged a few words. This was the person with whom I had shared my life for a few years, that I loved in an incomplete way. Now I could, though, if only this woman would accept me, I would finally have that complete relationship. But what were the odds of that? All I knew is that you had been married and had this adult daughter and were a top-level physician. I stuffed that brief hope inside.”
“What changed?” Rachel whispered.
“We talked. I saw how you looked at me. I sensed a reaction in you when we brushed against each other, first by accident and then…who knows after that. The heart senses these things. Listen, Rachel, I know you have doubts. I know you’re scared. But—”
She never got to finish the sentence. Rachel moved forward and kissed her deeply. The embrace remained after the kiss dissolved. Josh reached for Connie’s hand, but she did not respond so he let it go.
Still holding Usha, Rachel continued in a voice breaking with emotion. “Last night, you can imagine. I did not know how much of this cursed Irish blood was within me. I suddenly felt that I could not possibly deserve such happiness. I was not worthy. No, it would be yanked away from me again. A wicked deity lets you peek at happiness before snatching it away. I don’t know. Maybe that comes from the way I saw my brother and our sorry relationship. If I got too close, he would abandon me again. It is so hard to escape such desperate fears. Our ability to reason is such a tenuous faculty, we can be so fragile no matter what we look like on the outside. Today, a terrible reality hit me with inescapable force.”
“What’s that?” Usha asked.
“That I was reacting just like my idiot brother, running away from a chance at happiness.”
Usha stroked Rachel’s face. “Not to fear. Now that I have experienced you, Rachel, I know what real intimacy feels like. I am not walking away. Neither of us are kids anymore. To walk away now would be the worst mistakes of our lives. Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking with it.” She forced a smile.
Rachel tried a weak protest. “But there is so much to think about and deal with.”
“Oh shush,” she chided her. “Look at what your daughter is doing. She might abandon her career, commit to another human being, and adopt two foreign children. You cannot let her show you up. We can work everything out. We can for sure.”
They were holding each other again. Suddenly, Connie grabbed Josh’s arm and pulled him
along the beach. The sun was beginning to settle onto the western horizon. It was a light and breezy day; puffy clouds hung in the sky, and a spring cool breeze pushed against them. Josh loved this time of year. The winter might bring unending cloudiness and wet drizzle. Summer could have a bit of heat, at least for him. He loved the transitional periods when the extremes could be avoided and all weather patterns were in flux. In Vancouver, you might have four seasons in one day.
“They should have some privacy, though I doubt they even realized we were there.” Connie said before lapsing into silence. They walked a considerable distance without saying a word. Finally, Connie broke the silence. “I promised I would be here today. I am here. I promised to listen. I am listening.”
More walking and silence. Josh stopped and looked back toward the city. Usha and Rachel, with Morris in tow, were walking back to Josh’s place. They were hand in hand. Josh watched with mixed feelings. They were a couple. He knew it now. At last Rachel was tottering on the edge of a complete life. How exceptional was that, how thrilling. His heart burst for her. Yet where was he? Connie might well be beyond his reach now. Perhaps she was lost to him. He had spent his whole adult life running away. He ran from the law, his country, his family, from relationships, from human feelings, from himself. The cocoon walls were well constructed, impenetrable. What could he possibly do at this late stage in life? It was too late. Clearly, he was a lost cause, one of the walking dead who would play out his days looking and talking like a functioning person but hollowed out inside. In his mind’s eye, that was what he saw and he did not like it. But Rachel, Rachel, his beloved sister…he took one look back down the beach.
It started somewhere in the pit of his stomach, an emptiness that was undeniable. Slowly the unease moved up through his body. His chest began to heave, and then his throat became restricted. Was he going to choke? Was this a heart attack? He had to get it out, this overwhelming tension, this oppressive and crushing burden. Is this what the end felt like? It seemed about to drown him when he threw his head back and out it roared.
“God Daaaaamn Iiiiit!” His primal scream hung in the air. Connie stepped away, looking down the shoreline. Usha and Rachel had turned to look but were too far away to make sense of what they heard. They continued their journey.
Connie looked back toward Josh, her face stricken. “Are you all right?”
“Wow,” he said with a wry smile. “That felt good.”
“Damn, you scared the crap out of me. I thought an aneurysm had burst or something,” Connie said as she stepped toward him and looked to see if he was okay. She put a hand on his face.
Josh spoke through deep breaths. “Well, it hurt like an aneurysm, not that I know what those things feel like. Wow, I can see how psychological wounds can hurt the most. You crush things inside yourself, ground them down, hide the detritus in various organs and the crevices between them. But they continue to build up until they crowd out everything while grinding all that matters into dust. What remains is a hollow excuse for a guy just going through the motions. Anyways, if you again see me bellow like a pregnant cow giving birth, don’t be alarmed. I’m simply getting the rest of the crap out.”
“What are you babbling about?” Connie wavered between annoyance and concern.
Instead of answering, Josh grabbed her hand and led her across Marine Drive. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?” she asked with a hint of irritation.
“Across the campus to Wreck Beach. Now that sounds appropriate, doesn’t it?” He smiled, or was it a grimace? After they walked in silence for a time, Josh started up again. “Connie, I should’ve been open from the beginning, I mean about my past and all the crap I kept bottled up. I guess I hadn’t grown up yet, the ‘boy in a man’s body’ thing. Maybe I even wanted to drive you away. In fact, I’m sure of that now. If you had remained part of my life, I would have to face up to my feelings about you, and Rachel, and my guilt about stuff. Running away from my friends, I never forgave myself for that. Facing all that would have been, how shall I put it, inconvenient.”
Connie started, “It would have been what—”
“Shush, my turn.”
“Fair enough,” she said, her words still clipped.
“I, well, Rachel and I, grew up in a very normal working-class household, at least from the outside. You never met my dad, but you know he owned a bar. He was boisterous, a natural leader, a man of great conviction who would spare no words letting you know where he stood. We were not poor, the bar did a great business, but I think Dad was not a businessman. He gave away drinks and money to those hard up and the remainder to his causes, all about Irish freedom. He was a believer. My mother, my dear mother, was so different. If he was fire, she was ice. Rachel looks so much like her, with the light hair, the delicate features, the pale blue eyes. Men would pant after her, but she kept to herself, mysterious and disciplined and focused on greater, or at least different, things. I cannot even think about the successes Ora might have achieved had she not been born when and where she was. Rachel and I could see she was very bright but, at the same time, quite hard inside. She had needed that hardness to survive growing up amid untold dangers as her family wandered about in Russia, Lithuania, and Finland to stay alive. That part of the world was tearing itself asunder in those days.”
Seeing a colleague, he pulled her in a different direction to avoid any disruption. “There you have Rachel and me. She reflected Ora, our mother, and I, on the surface at least, was Jim, my dad. And early on, we seemed like two very different siblings…physically for sure. I was dark, athletic, and strong. She was blond, aesthetic, and analytical. Strangers could hardly believe we were from the same family. And yet…” Josh paused as if he just thought of something. “As I think on it, we were so much alike. I never dated much in high school, didn’t have a single real girlfriend as such. They were around, and as an athlete, I was the catch. But I could never get by the notion that they wanted something other than me. It could have been security, or social status, or a free meal or movie, or this elusive thing called a relationship, but none of those things meant they wanted me. I represented stuff to them, but they did not want me as flesh and blood. I kept wanting to tell them that here is twenty bucks, go and have a great date with yourself and then you won’t have to put out to pay me back at the end of the evening. I am sure you think me twisted. Well, you’re right.”
“I don’t see the connection with Rachel,” Connie slipped in.
Josh pushed on. “Connie, let me just babble. A lot of me, and Rachel, came from what we saw at home. We would joke that our folks had sex twice—we were the proof. But then I would argue that one of us came from another union. I used to piss her off by saying that I looked like Dad and came from what must have been the one occasion where their union was consummated. I would tease her about which neighborhood miscreant was likely her real father. She would get so mad at me. But it made sense. After all, there was no evidence of any love between my folks. They wandered about in their separate worlds, hardly communicating. Dad used whatever family love he possessed on me, just because he thought I was an extension of him. You would think he might dote on his daughter but no. Maybe Rachel looked too much like Ora. Most likely, I was what he wanted in a son, at least up until I wasn’t. In any case, he hardly paid attention to Rach. Hell, she was just a girl, she couldn’t score touchdowns. You might think that Ora, our mother, would dote on her daughter, the one who reflected her beauty and intelligence. But she didn’t. I could never figure that out, not really. Eventually, I decided that she could not love anyone—the hardness that permitted her to survive would not let her love. Dad was a convenient ticket to a better life. She did not care about him. She hardly noticed us. Her life was an interior journey, only her piano served as a life raft.”
Josh paused before pushing on. “Well, there was one moment she showed feeling, at least to me. When she became aware of my antiwar stuff in college, that set her off. I figured out that h
er early life had imprinted in her a fierce hatred of Communism. She carried images and emotions from her childhood forward, from family stories. I have no doubt that those around her as a child suffered greatly. Many did. I recall her yelling at me toward the end of my time at home. For some reason, she went on about Stalin killing 4 million Ukrainians. ‘That animal starved them to death,’ she repeated several times. I’ve no idea why she fixed on that. I thought she was making it up, just to give me a hard time. I looked it up. Turns out she was wrong. Stalin starved 5 million to death. I mean, she was right about what she experienced, the horrors her family endured, just wrong about me. But I could not reach her. Neither could Rach. I’ve thought long and hard about those days, especially this week. What Rachel and I experienced was gentle compared to what so many other kids endured. We knew of kids who were abused, physically and sexually, neglected by parents who battled addiction or worse. We knew kids who largely raised themselves. Some were trained in the family business of breaking the law or street life. I saw guys who drifted into the Winter Hill gang because they saw no other options.”
Connie had no idea what the Winter Hill gang was but forced herself to be quiet as Josh continued his monologue. “Okay, Big Jim decked me a few times, but I always knew why. Usually there was no lasting damage, other than a broken nose and a few stitches. Sometimes I even agreed that I deserved the whack. But other kids were randomly beaten for no reason. It was routine stuff in working-class Irish households back then. Getting beaten toughened you for life as it was. Now, it would be a major story deserving a Presidential Commission and a miniseries. Then it was business as usual. Yet these kids grew up to be normal, well, relatively speaking. Most got married, had kids, got jobs, paid taxes, and thought little about the meaning of their existence. They just did the stuff of living. So why did Rachel and I make it so difficult? Why have we struggled so? I don’t have much of an answer, just a guess.”
“Which is?” She asked gently now, softening to him.
