Jake swallowed and took a step back. “I will. But if I do, you have to promise me something.”
She slumped back in bed. “What, Jakey? What do I have to do for you? Always doing something for you. I ask if you’ll do something for me, and you end up asking if I can do something for you. Always about you, isn’t it? Isn’t that the way it’s always been? Yes, it has. Always about Jakey. What Jakey wants. What about me, Jakey? What about me!”
“I want to sing the song for you, Mom. I do. But you have to make me a promise. That’s all.”
“What promise?”
“Live, just live. Just promise to take your pills and live.”
His mom’s eyes fluttered and she smiled again. A real smile this time, and her eyes cleared.
“You want me to live.”
“Yes, more than anything.”
“Thank you, Jakey.”
She reached out for him and he took her cold, battered hand and began to sing. By the time he finished, her laughter had sent tears of joy down her cheeks, and as grueling as it was to sing that song, Jake felt lighter, freer, because he knew it had worked. It was far less arduous than he’d expected. But that only meant his dad and Sienna would be harder.
After a few minutes of silence, as he watched his mom rock back and forth, eyes closed, a smile on her face, Jake let his hand slide from his mom’s and eased toward the door.
When he reached her bedroom door, she opened her eyes. “Thank you for saving me, Jakey.”
“You’re going to be okay, Mom. I promise.”
“I promise too.” She glanced at the row of orange bottles on her nightstand. “I love you, Jakey.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
As Jake strode out the front door of his mom’s house, relief flooded through him. Not easy. But he’d done it. Kept his mom from taking her life. Made things right and been enough. Even though part of him accepted that it hadn’t happened twenty-five years ago, it had happened now. He’d done what he couldn’t do all those years ago. And it counted. One down, two to go.
When he reached the main path, Jake turned left at a fast clip. Get it done. He didn’t have to guess who would be next. Had to be his dad, because Ryan would save the toughest for last: Sienna. His parents? He had ideas on how to fix things, be enough for them. But Sienna? Not one iota of a clue. He shook the thought from his mind. Just take care of his dad. Worry about Sienna when he got to her.
As he strode down the wood-chip-covered path, a shout from farther up seemed to fill the sky. His dad’s voice. That cheerful, grating voice. No surprise. Jake pressed his palms into his eyes and took in a deep breath. He would be enough, whatever he encountered. He would fix it, do it right this time around. Jake broke into a jog and soon reached a smaller path that would lead to his dad.
The moment he started down it, the sound of hammering reverberated through the woods. As he headed down the trail toward the ringing, something about it unearthed a memory buried deep. Didn’t feel like a good one. No surprise.
As he got closer the banging stopped and the sound of a saw biting into wood started. The memory surfaced but was still muddled. But by the time the trees started to thin out, he knew exactly what he was about to face. Harder than what just happened with his mom? Yeah, probably, but Jake had no doubt he could handle it.
Thirty more steps and the tiny path spat him out into a small clearing. No, not a clearing. A lawn. Terraced flower beds to the right. A freshly painted swing set to the left. Jake’s backyard from when he was a kid.
Cedar planks were precisely stacked to the right and left of Jake’s dad, who was on his knees, saw in hand. His back was to Jake. The old red flannel shirt his dad always wore when working on projects was perfectly tucked in, and his work boots looked like they’d been shined that morning.
Nine? Ten? That’s the age Jake had been when his dad stood in their garage and invited Jake to join him in the backyard to build a doghouse. He’d blown it. Bent the nails. Sawed the boards crooked. Didn’t line anything up correctly. There were a thousand other times he hadn’t been what his dad wanted. Why revisit this one? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was making it right.
“Boy oh boy, Jaker,” his dad had said that day. “You surely messed it up this time. What in the world am I going to do with you? Let’s do it right this time, huh, pard? We always do things right around the Palmer household, don’t you know.”
The image of his dad’s joyless smile hanging over him as he tried again and again and again plastered itself to the wall of Jake’s mind. The afternoon had worn on into early evening, but ten-year-old Jake never got it right. But now, that was all going to change.
“Hey, Jaker!” His dad looked up, glanced at his watch, then back to Jake. “Did I get our time wrong, or are you late?”
“I think I’m late.”
“Let’s not let that happen again, pard, okay? We want to be members of the on-time-all-the-time club, right?”
“Yeah, Dad, we do.”
“We do?”
“I do.”
“Good man. Okay then. Wonderful.” His dad motioned at the boards with his saw. “Why don’t we dive in and put this structure together.”
For the next two hours, Jake did exactly what his dad instructed him to do, not with the skills of a ten-year-old, but with those of a thirty-seven-year-old. His dad kept up his usual stream of banter that was sickeningly cheerful because it wasn’t real. His dad was the original velvet hammer, seemingly nice as apple pie, but if you didn’t live life exactly as he thought it should be lived, he would smash your thumb and pay no attention to how much it hurt.
When they finished, his dad crawled around on his hands and knees examining the doghouse. “Well, well, well, Jaker! Looks pretty good, pretty doggone good!” His dad laughed at his own joke and relief rose up in Jake. He’d done it. Been enough for his dad, at least this time.
Maybe he hadn’t joined ROTC, or gone to work in Alaska on a fish processor, or taken that internship with his dad’s integrity-deprived friend down in Texas, but he’d built the doghouse the way his dad wanted.
“Did you hear me, Jaker?” His dad chuckled, hands on hips.
“Sorry, Dad. What was that?”
“You heard, or if you didn’t, time to get the wax out of your ears.” His dad gave him a lopsided smile.
“I might need to get some wax out.”
The smile didn’t leave his dad’s face, but his eyes were ice. “What I said was, pretty good might be fine for some people, but not for the Palmers. You need to pay attention to your work, Jaker. You can’t be sloppy, can’t be goofing off.” He pointed at the structure. “That’s nothing you could ever be proud of.”
Jake pointed at the doghouse. “Are you serious? That—”
“Don’t say something you’ll later regret there, pard.” His dad waved his hand over the doghouse. “Tear ’er apart. Let’s go again.”
Jake rebuilt the house. Again it wasn’t good enough. After the third time of tearing apart and rebuilding the doghouse, accompanied by his dad’s third berating, Jake broke.
“It’s just a doghouse,” he growled at his dad. “And it’s as near perfect as is possible.”
“Nope.” His dad waggled his finger. “That’s where you’re dead wrong, Jaker. It’s much more than a doghouse. You’re off by a centimeter on this doghouse, it sets you up to be off a centimeter in life. And a centimeter doesn’t sound like much when you’re ten, but if you keep being off by a centimeter, by the time you’re thirty, you’re off by miles. Let’s go again.”
By the seventh time they’d torn the structure apart and rebuilt it, Jake’s hands ached like he’d never known. His eyes burned, and the skin of his knees was so tender he couldn’t put any weight on them. But he was done. His dad approved Jake’s seventh attempt.
Jake shook his dad’s hand to say good-bye as he’d done since he was six years old, then wobbled down the tiny trail that led back to the main path. He’d told himself hi
s dad would be more challenging than being enough for his mom. Obviously he was more right than he imagined. Which did not bode well for what was next. Sienna.
38
As he shuffled down the path, Jake rubbed his hands, trying to bring some life back into them, and at the same time trying to guess what he would have to do for Sienna. Jake had always been there for her. Believed in her dreams of becoming a clothing designer. Encouraged her during the lean years. Don’t give up, it’s coming, it’s coming. And when success finally rained down on her, he soaked it in with her. Flowers, trips, surprise birthday parties. Their marriage had cracks like any marriage, but nothing even close to major. He’d been everything she wanted him to be. He’d been more than enough. As Jake strode up the path, he scoured his brain for what he hadn’t done. There had to be something to make right.
Should be a path leading to her house coming up. There. Thirty yards ahead. He broke into a jog, his knees tender but already feeling better, reached the trail, and slowed to a quick walk. After forty or fifty feet of a gently winding path bordered by pine trees, the trees gave way to a house that sat on top of a two-story boulder. Smooth. No apparent way up. Part of the challenge? Or symbolic? It didn’t matter. Jake would find a way up.
He clipped around to the right, running his tender fingers along the surface of the boulder. Nothing. Still smooth, but when he reached the back, he found slots cut into the rock at four- and five-feet intervals. Not easy. Impossible to do with his burnt legs, but in here he would make it, even with them aching from kneeling on the grass for the past five hours. He was more worried about his hands. No clue if he had enough strength in them. Time to find out.
The first slot in the boulder was cut ten feet above him. Jake stepped back five paces, then dug his shoes into the green turf and propelled himself forward at a dead sprint. He leaped up and planted his foot hard on the boulder, praying it would hold. It did, and he launched himself upward. Stretch hard. Yes! He grabbed the cut in the rock, then found an imperfection to his right. He tested it with his shoe. Solid. He pushed off again and reached the cut twelve feet up.
From there the boulder flattened to forty-five degrees and the cuts were spaced out evenly every three feet. Jake easily navigated the remaining section of the boulder and stood panting on top, staring back the way he’d come. He couldn’t see the spot where his dad was, but his mom’s house was just visible through a break in the trees. As he stared at it, it shimmered, then slowly melted into nothing. Yes. Confirmation. It was over. Hope rose inside Jake, and with it, renewed energy. He’d done it. Fixed things with his mom. Same with his dad. Now, the final piece. Sienna. Deep breath. No time to hesitate. He pushed open the front door, his heart hammering, and stepped inside.
Sienna sat nestled on a green leather couch, the one they’d bought together right after getting married. Her feet were up on a coffee table Jake didn’t recognize.
“Hey, sweetie,” Sienna said.
Jake stood in the entryway and tried to stay calm. It was their house exactly as it had been a week before he’d been burned. A house he hadn’t stepped inside for over a year. All the old memories, the good memories, buried him in an avalanche of emotion.
“You okay?”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
The words slipped out before Jake could stop them, but if they confused Sienna, she didn’t show it.
“Then let me assist.” She patted the couch. “You’re supposed to come over here, sit down, and give me a long, passionate kiss.”
He stared at her as he shuffled forward, not knowing how to ask what he could do to make things right.
Sienna looked up from her book and set it aside. “You okay?” she said again.
Of course this moment wouldn’t be current day. Just as the scenes with his mom and dad had been set in the past, this one would be too.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Then why do you have a look on your face like you haven’t stepped foot in this place for a year and haven’t seen me in even longer?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Then don’t. Get over here and give me a kiss.” She smiled wide and patted the couch again.
Jake didn’t move, his feet frozen to the black stone floor. “We’re good. You and me. We’re good.”
“Good?” Sienna stood. “No, we’re not good. Not good, not good, not good. We’re fantastic.”
She picked up a remote from their glass coffee table and pointed it at the fireplace, and flames appeared. “For a bit of ambience.”
Jake ignored the repulsion the sight of the flames sent through him. “I have to ask you a question.”
“Sure.” She sauntered over to him and threw her arms around his neck. “Anything.”
“In our life together, where have I not been enough for you?”
“What?” Sienna pulled away, took two steps back, and scrunched up her face. “What are you talking about? You’ve always been enough for me.”
“I’m serious, Sienna. I need to know this. Where have I let you down? Where haven’t I come through?”
“You want to know? You really want to know?”
“Please.”
She stuck out her hip and pointed at him with mock anger on her face. “I’ve asked you two times now for a kiss, and you’ve turned me down both times. There. There’s where you’ve let me down. Not been even close to enough.”
“Sienna, please.”
Her hips swayed from side to side as she came back to him, sliding her arms around his neck again. “You are really kind to ask, but there’s nothing. You’ve been everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”
Jake wished she were kidding, but this Sienna was serious. Where could he go from here? If there was no problem, there was no solution, and he was in a stalemate.
“Let me ask you something else then.”
“Sure.” She motioned toward the green couch. “But could we sit while you ask me?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
She took his hand and Jake fought the part of him that screamed this was real. It wasn’t. It was only a test. And he would not fail.
As soon as they settled onto the couch, Sienna pulled her knees up on the cool, green leather and stroked Jake’s hair. “Okay, sweetie. Ask away.”
“If I was in a fire, and I was burned—my torso, my feet, legs, everything from my stomach down—would you still love me?”
“That’s never going to happen.”
“But if it did.”
“Of course I’d still love you.”
“I need you to think about this.”
“I love you, Jake.” She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss. “You. What’s inside. The outside, too, of course. I mean, you’re gorgeous, but I love you.” Sienna frowned. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re asking all these strange questions?”
Jake stared at her for only a second before agreeing. Why not? Maybe if he told her the story, he’d figure out what it was he had to make right. When he finished, she smiled and then a contemplative look came over her face.
“If I could believe, even for a moment, what you’re saying—which of course I can’t—then I’d tell you exactly what you should do.”
“All right.”
“You got what you wanted. Your body restored.” She pointed at his torso and legs, then opened her arms wide and glanced around the room. “And you have this, all back. And me. Right here.”
She took his face and brought their noses together. “So if you have everything you’ve ever wanted, why would you leave?”
“I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“It doesn’t work that way.” He got up and moved to the back of the room, where a picture window overlooked a parkland, and kept his back to Sienna.
“Why not? How do you know? Did you ask your lying, backstabbing pal Ryan? Have you met someone who tried to stay but couldn’t?”
Jake’s conversation with Leonard flooded int
o his mind. Leonard had wanted to stay. Suddenly Sienna’s question wasn’t insane. Could he stay? Was that what Ryan meant? That the healing would remain if he passed the test, which meant staying indefinitely in the meadow? Was it even possible? And what did that mean for everyone on the other side? Did time stop here forever?
The questions melted away as he turned and stared at Sienna, as beautiful as she’d ever been. The thought of taking her in his arms and feeling the rush of her lips on his filled him. In that moment there was nothing he wanted more. He’d been restored, and this would be the crown jewel in his celebration. Jake moved toward her, a smile on his face, and she began to move toward him.
But just before they reached each other, the truth, unbidden, filled him like the sun breaking through a cloud-soaked summer afternoon. Even though every emotion inside him shouted it was right, staying here with Sienna could not have been more wrong. Jake held up his fingers to stop Sienna from sliding into his arms.
“No, I can’t let this happen.”
“What are you talking about?”
He stared at her and let a puff of surprise seep out of his mouth. “I thought you would be the hardest by far, and in a way you are, but not in the way I expected. The hard part is to not choose you.
“But being enough for you? Fixing things now? There’s nothing to fix, is there? I was enough for you. I gave you everything I had, gave you my whole heart, and until I was burned, it was enough. But it’s okay, because I left nothing on the table.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There’s nothing to take out of here except the choice to live in the truth.”
“What truth are you talking about?”
“My body was burned, Sienna, whether you believe it or not. It happened. And you rejected me because of it. If I stayed here with you, I would always know that. Know I was living a lie. I came here today to fight for the truth, and that’s what I’m going to do. Because I think that was the final test. As much as I wished things could go back to the way they were, the test was to choose the truth instead. It’s over. And I’ve won.”
The Long Journey to Jake Palmer Page 26
