Heart Echoes

by Sally John

  “And Maiya doesn’t hang out in Beverly Hills.” Holly laughed. “Lacey, my point is they’re human just like you. The only difference is you’re nice and Teal was always a pain in our tushies.”

  “She . . .” Lacey shook her head, tired of defending Teal. “Have you seen Will?”

  “He’s gabbing out back with some guy. I could say he’s being your typical male, making himself scarce, but your husband does okay with emotional moments, that’s for sure.”

  That was for sure. He didn’t have much of a choice in the face of her round of doctors and hospitals. Holly had been a part of it all. “He wanted to give me space, but I think I want him here.”

  “Then go get him or go out front. You’re making me nervous.” She turned to two young people approaching the counter, huge knapsacks on their backs. “Good morning. What can I get for you?”

  Lacey let her attention drift off again. Yes, she was incredibly anxious about their first meeting after almost ten years. She wanted to be inside the shop when Teal and Maiya arrived so that customers might act as a buffer zone. It would be best for Will to greet them with her, thicken the buffer zone. She tended to hold herself together when others were around.

  The bells on the front door jingled. The sound that should have been lost in the din of two dozen people jabbering at the tables and the gift-shop area resounded in Lacey’s ears like pealing church bells.

  Two shadows filled the glass and then the door opened all the way.

  Suddenly she did not want a buffer zone because there stood her favorite person in the whole wide world. Elusive as she had been through the years, her sister remained the central figure in Lacey’s life. Her face and her voice colored Lacey’s memories more than any other. Teal had taught Lacey how to tie her shoes, how to read, how to comb the beach for treasures, how not to fear the ocean, how to stay out of sight when their parents went off the deep end.

  And now at last, here she was, with a ponytailed clone beside her.

  Lacey laughed and clapped her hands and flew across the shop, darting between tables and around browsing shoppers.

  Teal grinned and held her arms open. Lacey melted into them.

  Her big sister was home.

  They giggled and hugged tightly. Teal was shorter by a couple of inches; she felt solid in Lacey’s arms. Lacey used to be heavier than her sister’s average build, more muscular because she was the athlete.

  They parted, holding each other at arm’s length, looking at each other, smiling. As ever, Teal’s eyes held in them the Oregon winter coast, every shade of gray from the sky’s ash to the water’s slate. There were crow’s-feet around them now and purplish circles beneath them, more than age alone would add.

  “Yeah,” Teal said, “I’ve aged.”

  “I love your hair.” The bob suited Teal’s smooth, black hair.

  “Love yours, all casual and scrunched. The braid’s gone. You look younger than ever.”

  Lacey shrugged.

  Teal squeezed her bony upper arms.

  Lacey saw understanding in the tilt of Teal’s head, in the fading smile, the narrowing eyes. Later, Lacey prayed. Later.

  Teal smiled briefly and stepped aside, beckoning Maiya to approach.

  There had been a resemblance between them when the girl was six, but now she could pass for Teal’s twin. Same heart-shaped face, same olive-tone skin, same black hair, same height and build. Only the eye color set her apart.

  “Maiya.” Lacey wrapped her in a hug. “Welcome to Camp Poppycock.”

  Her niece burst into youthful laughter, a sound of hope and healing to Lacey’s tired soul.

  In the huge pool of genetics that made up each of them, they shared only a smidgen of DNA from Lacey and Teal’s mother, but for Lacey it was enough to claim. This child was family to the childless aunt.

  Chapter 24

  So far, so good. Seated by herself at a small corner table, Teal sipped from a triple-size to-go cup. So far, so good meant she had not yet shed a tear. What was there to cry about? Everything she had feared about returning home had gone poof the moment she first saw Lacey. That sight triggered emotions so deep, tears could not reach them.

  A vaguely familiar man walked by. Dick, Mick, Rick, Nick? An old fisherman by the looks of his cap and weathered face. She returned his smile, struck by the friendly environment of Lacey and Will’s place, the Happy Grounds Coffee and Gift Shop.

  She sipped her latte and noted again it was nothing like she could get in Los Angeles–area chain stores. No surprise, given that she was in the Northwest, aka Coffee Country. But it was the best she had ever tasted in her entire life, and a teenager had made it. She eyed him now behind the counter. Baker—one name—was a big kid, more pudgy than muscular, and shy. He wore geeky rectangular, black-rimmed glasses. His hands moved with expertise on the espresso machine.

  Will slid into a chair across from her and motioned toward her cup. “Good?”

  “Way beyond good. We’re into heavenly. I want to take him home with me.”

  Will grinned. “Ivy League schools are after him already, and I want to tell him to forget college. The future is here, keeping my customers happy.”

  Teal chuckled.

  She and Maiya had greeted Will earlier, but when a tour bus unloaded curbside, he went back to work. Lacey declared she had the day off and promptly steered Maiya around the gift shop. Teal could see them now, smiling and chatting over marionberry jams and key rings made from myrtlewood as if they were treasures.

  Teal turned back to her brother-in-law. She had always liked Will Janski Jr. well enough. Not that they had ever hung out together growing up, but he was her age. They graduated in the same high school class with sixty-one others. He was an extrovert who never met a stranger, the perfect personality to take over his parents’ shop when they retired seven years ago.

  With his open face, dark-blond hair, and slender, six-foot-plus stature, he had not aged much, except for the bags under his hazel eyes.

  “Will, how bad is it?”

  His face sort of folded in on itself briefly, as if a stiff wind had blown by. “She’ll tell you, Teal. When she’s ready.”

  “Are you familiar with how children of alcoholics communicate with their siblings? They do not talk about the ugly stuff because if they do, that means it’s real. She may never be ready.”

  Will’s chest rose and fell as he breathed deeply before he spoke. “She told you about the miscarriage.”

  “How many months after the fact? And I never even heard she was pregnant.”

  “Maiya seems like a great kid.”

  Teal could have screamed. She leaned forward and whispered, “Is Lacey dying?”

  “She asked me not to—”

  “Will! Please!”

  “They think the cancer is in remission.”

  Teal sat back as if slapped. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her thoughts swirled. Her guess had been correct. Lacey had cancer. Cancer. What kind? When? Did she have surgery? She obviously had had chemotherapy; she never would have cut off the long hair that Will adored.

  It was too much to take in.

  She swallowed. “How are you doing?”

  He blinked, averted his eyes, came back. “Let’s say my knees are well acquainted with the floor, and that helps.”

  Now Teal looked away. He had every right to be bitter, but it wasn’t in his makeup. She liked him more than ever.

  Lacey and Maiya made their way across the coffee shop. Lacey stopped at every table to introduce her niece to customers. Maiya carried a small brown bag with handles and green tissue paper. She politely greeted everyone.

  By the time they reached their table, Teal and Will were talking coffee again.

  Maiya plopped down beside Teal, laid the bag on the table, and began pulling things from it. “Mom, look at what Aunt Lacey gave me. She said I can have anything I want from the whole entire store the whole entire time we’re here. I got bubble bath for us. Isn’t this br
acelet awesome? This clear stuff is beach glass, and these stones are amethysts.” She fastened it around her wrist. “Look at that funny joke book. And marionberry jam. I’ve never even heard of marionberries!”

  Teal looked at her sister across the table. “Lace, come on.”

  “Hey, she’s my niece. I get to spoil her. And I own this shop.”

  Will gave her an exaggerated frown.

  She grinned. “We own this shop and we want to spoil Maiya. A little. I mean, it’s not like we carry Gucci or Coach. So give it a break, Teal.”

  “Yeah, Mom, give it a break.”

  Aunt and niece giggled in unison.

  Teal saw a familiar spark of joy in Lacey’s eyes. It hadn’t been there earlier. She would have noticed because it was the one Maiya had had since she was a toddler. It was one reason Teal often inadvertently called Maiya by her sister’s name.

  Maybe this visit was a good idea for reasons she could not fathom.

  Teal wheeled her suitcase up and over the threshold and entered Moonbeam Cottage number three. One sweep of her eyes covered the combined sitting, dining, and kitchen areas. A hall led off from the center of the back wall. Three doors opened into it, two bedrooms and a bathroom.

  “This is great, Lacey.”

  “It’s all right?”

  Maiya walked in behind Lacey. “Eww!” She stretched the word into a long whine. “Aunt Lacey! This is, like, not the Ritz!”

  Lacey fluffed her hair and pouted. “Yeah, but, like, does it matter?”

  They both giggled.

  Teal stared. The two of them already had inside jokes going?

  “Mom—” Maiya lowered her voice to normal range—“she really thought I must be a ditz and shopped on Rodeo Drive.”

  Lacey smiled. “Those are synonymous with Los Angeles. Anyway—” She spread her arms—“this place is clean and does not smell like mildew.”

  Maiya rolled her suitcase toward the tiny hall. “With seventy-three inches of rain a year, I suppose mildew is an issue.” She disappeared inside one of the bedrooms.

  Lacey looked a question at Teal.

  “She likes to do research.” Teal shrugged.

  “A dream student.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with the whole tutoring thing?”

  “Definitely okay with it.” Lacey sat on the couch, a saggy-looking plaid eyesore with wooden arms, and rested her head against the back.

  “Mom,” Maiya called out, “Baker’s going to help us with trig.”

  “Baker, the coffee guy?”

  Lacey nodded. “Smart kid. Do you think that table gives you enough work space? I asked for this cottage because it had the largest one. I’m afraid there’s no wireless. You’re always welcome to work at our house or the shop.”

  Teal glanced around the room. Six chairs fit around the dining table that took up an entire fourth of the space. Opposite it the open kitchen consisted of the basics: sink, stove, fridge, and cabinets all lined up in a row along the back wall.

  “The table will be just fine, and I can e-mail with my phone.” She sat on the recliner, a dark-yellow Naugahyde, comfy enough.

  A braided rug covered the linoleum between her chair and the couch. The sparse furnishings included a coffee table, two lamps, and a television. Sunlight shone through several windows, a homey charm in their cheery yellow curtains and valances.

  “It’s a comfortable place. Thanks, Lace. Is that a pellet stove?” The cast-iron device next to the hall opening resembled an old-fashioned free-standing television with a chimney.

  “Yes. Will said he’d get some pellets for you today, just in case. Mornings have been chilly.”

  “Mom,” Maiya called out again. “Which bedroom do you want? Blue stripes or green plaid bedding?”

  “You choose, hon.” Teal crossed her arms and focused on her sister’s tired face. “Talk to me.”

  Lacey’s wan smile faltered. “Will said he told you.”

  “No details, though.”

  “I just couldn’t . . . over the phone . . .”

  “It’s okay. I know. I haven’t exactly been a confidante type of sister.”

  “No, you haven’t. You’ve been a pain in the tushie.”

  “It’s who I am. You’re such a Goody Two-shoes.”

  “It’s who I am.”

  They stared at each other for a long moment. Maiya’s humming and the sound of drawers being pulled filled the space.

  “Lace, I really want to hear it.”

  “We tried to get pregnant for three years. Then it happened. Five months later, I miscarried. The doctor did a D and C. She found a tumor. It was ovarian cancer. Then I had a hysterectomy and chemotherapy. Now my hair is short and I don’t surf anymore and I take naps most afternoons. I’m thirty-two and I have hot flashes. And I buy cookies for the shop instead of baking them myself.”

  Teal moved over to the couch and pulled Lacey into her arms.

  “And I am so sick of crying about it.” Lacey blubbered.

  Teal felt dampness on her own cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “Well, there is some good news. This week’s tests said it’s in remission.”

  “Okay.” Teal sniffed. “Okay.”

  “Okay.”

  It didn’t help much. They wept some more.

  Maiya squealed from the other room. “Unbelievable! There is no TV in here!”

  Teal sat up and wiped her eyes.

  Lacey chuckled through her tears. “I’m so glad she got suspended so you felt the urge to come.”

  “I would have preferred you just told me what was going on.”

  “Whatever.”

  Maiya strode into the room. “Whew. There’s a TV out here. . . . What’s wrong with you two?”

  Teal exchanged a glance with Lacey.

  Her sister nodded.

  “Aunt Lacey has been sick.”

  “I know. Uncle Will told me. But she’s okay now. Right?”

  Teal turned to Lacey. “Are you sure you’re up for us?”

  A softness pushed aside Lacey’s tired creases. It was an expression reserved for elderly people who had found their way through years of ups and downs, finding at last a peace with life and death.

  It took Teal’s breath away.

  Lacey smiled. “I am, without a doubt, up for you.”

  Chapter 25

  LOS ANGELES

  River clung to the cell phone as if it were a life preserver. He eagerly drank in every sound of Teal’s voice. It was less clipped than usual when she told him of Lacey’s illness. A silent chuckle underscored it when she described the full-size beds that filled every inch in the bedrooms of the cottage that did not smell of mildew.

  “Teal, I didn’t think I could miss you this much.”

  She groaned. “Come on, big guy. I need you to be all right without me there.”

  “I thought you liked me being in touch with my feminine side.”

  “Not this month.”

  River smiled, but his gut twisted as if he’d just run the mile in six minutes. “I’m not all right, but I’ll survive.”

  “Promise me you will go home tonight.”

  He glanced around his office space, at his sleeping bag on the floor, the disarray on his desk. The first night Teal and Maiya were gone, he had gone home at the regular time, eaten chili out of a can, an entire bag of Double Stuf Oreos, and a pound of shelled pistachios while watching eight straight hours of television.

  Last night he ate dinner in the cafeteria with the live-in staff and fifty boys, gingerly shot some hoops with a group who promised not to elbow him, worked at his desk until ten, then sacked out on the office floor, which was warmer than his camper parked out back.

  “River, it’s Saturday. Even you occasionally take that one off.”

  “Um, maybe.” At least he’d go home to get some clean clothes. What else was there? At the school he had food, showers, company, a quiet room. “I’m still behind on the auction prep work. It’s
easier to do it from here than home.”

  The auction was a fund-raiser for the school, a huge affair that drew people from all over the county. Items were donated by the dozens—everything from cars to computers to Maui vacations—and auctioned off in October. After coordinating it for fifteen years, River had the process down to a science. The earthquake and the injured ribs, though, had thrown a wrench into his schedule.

  “How’s that going?”

  He filled her in on the details of his annual major project. “Hey, thanks for listening. It always gives me a new perspective.”

  “Here’s a new perspective: take care of yourself. You reverting back to your bachelor days worries me.”

  “You’re the one in Camp Poppycock, sitting on the floor beside the front door because it’s the only place your phone connects. I’m the worried one.”

  “Go to church and tell everyone hello from me.”

  He chuckled. In less than five years, Teal had overhauled his life. Not only did he now sleep in a bed and eat balanced meals, he also went to a church pastored by a widow who had been a television actress back in the day. Most of the congregation remembered welcoming Teal into their midst as an unmarried pregnant grad student. Many of them had babysat Maiya. Along with River’s sister, these people had been all the extended family they needed.

  Which made the flight to Cedar Pointe all the more off the wall.

  “Okay, I will go to church. Any other instructions, Counselor?”

  “I’m out of line. I don’t mean to—”

  “Hey, I’m kidding.”

  “I’m not. Seriously, River, I’m not gone. I am coming home.”

  He heard the unspoken: I’m not gone like Krissy. “I know.”

  In the silence that followed, there were more unspoken words, tidal waves of pain, relief, utter joy, hope, despair, and in the end, an all-encompassing blanket of love.

  “But,” he said, “I really, really miss you.”

  “I miss you too. Really, really, really.”

  “Truly?”

  She laughed. “Maiya wants to talk to you.”

  His heart leaped at the sentence.

  He was in bad shape. Really, really bad shape.