The Wishing Trees

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The Wishing Trees Page 23

by John Shors


  I worry about you, my love. And I want you to do something for me—something that might not be easy. I don’t know if you recall these details, but my friend Georgia, and her little girl, Holly, now live in Hong Kong, where Georgia works for her bank. Remember how much fun we had with them on those weekends together? Holly and Mattie had such a fantastic time, and Georgia went from being my best friend to our friend. You enjoyed her company as much as I did.

  I’ll never understand why Frank cheated on her. He killed a part of her, but she was strong. She moved to Hong Kong, taking Holly with her. She’s lived there for two years now.

  For the past few months, I’ve e-mailed her several times a week. She’s been a wonderful friend. A lovely mate, as you would say. She hopes to come visit me, but for a reason I can’t explain, I don’t want her to see me like this.

  Anyway, I’m asking you, as your lover and your best friend, to visit Georgia and Holly before you leave Hong Kong. I want you to share a smile with another woman, Ian. I know that you’ll avoid such sharing, that you’ll run from it. But Georgia and I grew up together. She made me laugh. And I know that she could make you laugh too. And there is nothing wrong with laughter, my love. It doesn’t speak of betrayal, of surrender. It makes us all stronger. It means that we have chosen life over death.

  I have been working on capturing these thoughts in a poem. Here it is:

  Tomorrow

  Yesterday I felt your touch,

  I heard your joy,

  I watched you watch me.

  Yesterday my dream was real.

  The dream of you,

  Of how you and I made us.

  Yesterday I never thought about tomorrow.

  Only the moment,

  The mingling of our thoughts, our shadows, our love.

  Today is here.

  A new, darker dawn.

  A frontier I hadn’t wanted to cross.

  Today is pain, is suffering.

  Many of my dreams are gone.

  Shattered.

  But many dreams remain.

  Like tulips beneath a spring snow.

  Today I have hope.

  For you.

  For Mattie.

  Tomorrow you must let go.

  Of me.

  Of us.

  You can hold me in a secret place,

  But in the light you must hold another.

  Tomorrow you must laugh again.

  You must take a hand that is not mine.

  Tomorrow your heart must swell,

  Must grow large enough to shelter love beyond us,

  Must grow strong enough to welcome such love.

  You will not forget yesterday.

  Love like ours never dissipates, never wavers.

  We were one and we will always be one—

  Pages within the same book.

  But life is long and you should not walk alone.

  Please don’t walk alone.

  Find happiness again.

  Find a version of us.

  And within that version,

  Celebrate what we were,

  What we created,

  The path that we took.

  Only through happiness will you ever again smile at the memory of us.

  And I want to watch your smiles from heaven.

  I want to see you reborn,

  Fashioned together with memories,

  With joy,

  And with hope.

  Remember . . .

  Love is a wilderness untamed,

  A river uncrossed,

  A promise unbroken.

  I love you.

  Ian held the note, trying to keep his face from revealing his emotions. He knew Georgia well, knew that she was charming and intelligent and attractive. He understood where Kate was trying to take him, but he didn’t want to travel there. In fact, he felt betrayed by the mere suggestion of such a destination. The love that existed between him and Kate couldn’t be replicated, and he felt that Kate was shortchanging it by mentioning Georgia, as if he could so simply move from one woman to another.

  The note went back into the canister. Ian tried to smile, lying to Mattie about what her mother had written. He realized that Kate hadn’t mentioned Holly to Mattie or she would have said something. She would be excited. So the decision about whether to meet their old friends was left to him.

  He sipped his tea, momentarily hiding his face. She’s asking too much of me, he thought. Way too bloody much. It’s not right. I don’t have a bit of interest in seeing Georgia, even though I’ve always fancied her, even though Mattie would have heaps of fun with Holly.

  “What is it, Daddy?” Mattie asked, her hand reaching for his arm, taking the teacup away from his lips.

  “Nothing, luv. Nothing at all.”

  “What else did she say? Tell me what she said.”

  Ian sighed, wishing he had more time to think, to sort out the pros and cons of various responses. “It’s a surprise. I’m supposed to surprise you.”

  “What surprise?”

  “Stop your hopping, Roo. I’ll tell you soon. I promise.”

  “But why not now?”

  He saw a waiter and motioned for their bill. “Let’s go mail Rupee’s package and do some schoolwork, and maybe I’ll tell you over dinner.”

  “Daddy.”

  “That’s my deal, luv. No negotiating this time. For once.”

  “More schoolwork?”

  “We’re supposed to study photosynthesis this week.”

  Mattie reached down for Rupee’s package. “Fine, but I want to draw him something before we mail this. I’ll hurry.”

  “What about the view from right here? Give him a proper look at Hong Kong.”

  “Okay.”

  As Mattie cleared a space in front of her, Ian continued to watch her face, weighing the joy of watching her smile at the prospect of seeing Holly against his discomfort at the notion of spending time with Georgia. He knew that Mattie would take delight in an afternoon with Holly. But he didn’t want to step toward Georgia, because that seemed to be stepping away from Kate. And the thought of stepping away from her made him feel weak. And he didn’t agree with her—his heart had no room for another woman. It never would.

  Kate had rarely been wrong during their time together, but she was wrong about his heart. It couldn’t welcome new love, whether from Georgia or anyone else. His heart wasn’t like a home—able to open itself to anyone who wanted to enter.

  Whatever strength and hope and love remained within him would go to Mattie. His heart would forever stay open to her, and her mother. But the door was closed to anyone else.

  THE NIGHT SEEMED TO BE A REALM of contradictions. The hotel room was cold, though heat and humidity continued to dominate the island of Hong Kong. The sun had departed, yet buildings were brightly illuminated, glowing as if covered in holiday lights. Though taxis and trains and ships moved below, from forty stories up, with the windows sealed shut, only the hum of the air conditioner could be heard.

  Ian lay in bed beside Mattie, his eyes closed, his mind awake. Though midnight had come and gone, he hadn’t been able to sleep. His thoughts moved from Rupee to Mattie to Kate’s request. He wasn’t sure how to help Rupee further but knew that he must. He wondered how he might make Mattie smile more often. And he remembered how Kate and Georgia had laughed together, how full of life his wife had been.

  After ensuring that Mattie was asleep, Ian carefully got out of bed. He saw the telescope next to the large window but decided against looking into people’s lives. Instead he walked to the bathroom. Though he would have liked to fill the tub with hot water and soak himself, he didn’t want to wake Mattie. And so he took two antacids, walked back out into the main room, and sat down in a chair beside the window.

  His wallet rested on a nearby table, and soon a picture of Kate was in his hands. He ran his forefinger around the outline of her face, wondering if he’d take her face with him, once he died. Would he ever see her again? Even in death?<
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  He continued to look at the photo, remembering their wedding day, how his nervousness had been replaced by happiness, how nothing in his life had ever felt so right. The image of her standing beside him, holding his hands, having eyes only for him, tore at his strength. He bent forward, rubbing his brow, longing to relive that day, to travel back in time so that he could spend his life preparing for her illness, figuring out a way to save her. He’d always been smart—gliding through exams, building a company that naysayers claimed couldn’t be built. But he’d failed Kate. He had been overwhelmed by the complexity of her disease and the conflicting, convoluted opinions of her doctors. Though he had always believed in science, it hadn’t saved Kate. Just as he hadn’t. He’d traveled the world, filled a floor with his employees, but failed to save his wife. And he would have traded all of his successes to amend that one failure.

  Ian took several deep breaths, biting his lower lip, his emotions a combination of guilt and confusion, anger and sadness. Setting aside the photo of Kate, he ran his hands through his hair, turning to look at Mattie. She lay with the sheet pulled up to her chin, an angel wrapped in cotton.

  I’ll never leave you, Kate, for someone else, Ian thought, gazing again at the sky. The love we had can’t be replaced. You’re wrong about that. As wrong as a sunbather in a city. But I’m going to do what you want. I’ll e-mail Georgia tomorrow. Mattie and Holly used to have heaps of fun together. And I want to see our little girl be a little girl again. I know you fancy that too. We both fancy that more than anything in the world.

  But I have to tell her, my luv, that we can’t continue this walkabout forever, that we’ll soon go back to reality, back to school and work. She’ll need to say good-bye to Holly, just like she did to Rupee. And if she thinks her friends back home have perfect lives, somehow we’re going to have to figure out how to live surrounded by that perfection.

  I just . . . I can’t do everything you want. I’m trying. I’m trying so bloody hard. But I’m knackered. I need help. And that’s why I’m going to e-mail Georgia, because I know you’re trying to show me the way, even if I don’t agree with every step you’re asking me to take.

  But I’m never going to walk away from you. And whatever love is left in me will go to Mattie. She needs it heaps more than anyone else. She deserves it. And she wants it. And that’s all that matters to me now. I reckon I failed you, my luv, but I’m not going to fail her. Whatever becomes of me, I won’t fail our little girl. We created her. She’s the best part of us. And through her, not through the love of another woman, I’ll someday smile at the memory of us. She’ll give me that gift. And that’s what keeps me moving ahead.

  I love you so bloody much, Kate. I’m going to try to sleep now. Please have a go at me in my dreams. Come to me like you used to, with a surprise held behind your back, a flower you found or a handful of ice. I don’t care which. Just come.

  THE MOUNTAINTOP ABOVE THE CITY REVEALED ANOTHER side of Hong Kong—an immense harbor almost completely surrounded by gleaming buildings. The view was the opposite of what Mattie and Ian had seen from the Himalayas. In Nepal, nature had reigned supreme. In Hong Kong, nature had been subjugated. The sea, the mountains, the sky were brilliant and powerful, yet mere backdrops for the city. Scores of skyscrapers reached toward the sun like trees competing for light in an overgrown forest. Ferries and barges plowed across the harbor. Planes left crisscrossing contrails above.

  The park that Ian, Mattie, Georgia, and Holly had traveled to was full of boulders, slides, and swings. Nearby were about a dozen children, most of whom were leaping from one boulder to another. Ian watched Holly and Mattie swing beside each other. The girls had been quiet upon their initial introduction, but that silence had lasted only a few minutes. They now laughed and played as if they’d been doing so for every moment of their lives.

  Ian turned toward Georgia, who sat beside him on a granite bench. She was mostly as he remembered—her straight red hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, her skin pale, her eyes a light green, her body that of an athlete. She wore a sleeveless dress that matched the color of her eyes and appeared to wrap around her waist from the right side to the left. A silver antique bracelet adorned her wrist, while jade set in silver hung from her ears. Ivory-colored low-heeled shoes graced her pedicured feet.

  Ian had never possessed any interest in fashion and, glancing at his jeans and his old Hawaiian-style shirt, he felt poorly dressed for the occasion. They were in Hong Kong, after all, one of the world’s most fashion-conscious cities. He and Mattie appeared like they were about to go fishing.

  “Mattie looks wonderful,” Georgia said, her voice slow and smooth, her legs crossed, her lean calves exposed to the sun. “You’ve got a lot to be proud of, Ian. A lot.”

  He smiled, delighted that Georgia had held Mattie just minutes earlier, that she’d pushed Mattie’s hair back and told her that everything was going to be all right. “And Holly,” he replied, “she’s like a little you. The apple sure didn’t roll far from the tree.”

  “No, it didn’t. Maybe a few feet, but that’s good.”

  Holly laughed, and Ian watched her swing. She was dressed in white tights, a plaid skirt, a maroon blouse, and black patent leather shoes. Her bangs, slightly less red than Georgia’s, were held to the side by a clip. Her hair was wavy and short, sculpted the way a model’s might have been a century earlier.

  Ian continued to watch Mattie and Holly swinging together, talking and giggling as they tried to keep their swings moving in unison. “Holly seems happy,” he said, thinking that though she was just a few months older than Mattie, she appeared much more confident and poised.

  Georgia sipped from a bottle of mineral water. “She is. Hong Kong’s been good for her. Really good. Of course, it was hard at first. But the last year has been wonderful. She loves her school, her friends. She’s even learning to speak Mandarin.”

  As an older couple walked past—the woman shielding herself from the sun with an umbrella—Ian wondered how Georgia had succeeded in bringing such joy into Holly’s life. “Do you fancy it here?”

  Georgia set the bottle down. “I do. It’s new and a start over. I tried to keep everyone happy in Seattle. But . . . but Frank wasn’t very interested in that. So when the bank offered me a job here, a great job, I took it. And I don’t miss home.”

  “Why not?”

  She looked away, her neck exposed and graceful. “Because home didn’t turn out the way it was supposed to.”

  He remembered talking with Kate late at night, the night that Georgia had called. She’d been near the end of her pregnancy and had discovered that Frank was having an affair with his intern. Kate had spoken with her for most of the night, crying with her, supporting her. Georgia had never considered staying with Frank. But she hadn’t known how to leave him either. And Kate had helped her with that.

  Ian, Kate, and Mattie had seen Georgia and Holly occasionally over the following years. When the girls turned six, they celebrated together in Disney World. When Georgia’s work took her to New York, she often brought Holly, and they stayed with Kate and Ian. In some ways, Mattie and Holly had been raised more like cousins than friends. They’d seen each other during special occasions, never sharing a classroom, but sometimes a bedroom.

  “The girls don’t miss a beat, do they?” Ian asked, watching Holly lead Mattie to the boulders.

  Georgia turned to Ian, her hands starting to reach for his, but dropping to her lap. “I wanted to come to New York, you know. I wanted to help. But Kate wouldn’t let me. I don’t know why. I asked her over and over but she always refused. And so we said . . . we said good-bye on the phone. And it was awful.”

  Ian nodded. “I’m sorry about that. I tried to change her mind.”

  “But why? Why wouldn’t she let me come?”

  He saw that her eyes glistened, that she was almost imperceptibly shaking her head. “There’s no easy answer,” he replied. “But Kate was very focused at the end. I reckon all she
thought about was Mattie and me. Day and night. She planned this walkabout. She did a thousand other things. She knew she didn’t have long, and she just . . . just focused on us. Not her mates. Not her relatives. She told me once or twice to make peace with my mum and dad, but that was all.”

  A tear fell from Georgia’s lashes. She rubbed her eye, smearing her mascara. “Kate was there for me. When Frank . . . did that, she was there. Every day. I needed her so much . . . and she was there. But I wasn’t there for her. Even though I wanted to be. And that makes me feel empty inside.”

  Ian reached into his day pack and handed her a tissue. “You wouldn’t have wanted Holly there,” he said, lowering his voice. “Believe me, it’s better that you didn’t come. Sometimes Mattie has nightmares about the tubes . . . about the way Kate withered. And I reckon that’s one of the reasons Kate kept you away.”

  Dabbing at her eyes with the tissue, Georgia shifted her gaze from him. “You know, I e-mailed you once, about wanting to come. And to tell you the truth, it hurt me when you didn’t write back.”

  His thumb moved against his palm. “I . . . I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to say.”

  “So you said nothing?”

 

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