Rose Harbor in Bloom by Debbie Macomber
“Oh, it’s really Kent who’s fast on his feet,” her grandmother was quick to tell her. “Back in the day, all the girls wanted to dance with him.”
Without meaning to, Annie’s gaze found Oliver on the dance floor with her young cousin, who gazed up at him adoringly.
“I see you notice that Kent isn’t the only one who’s got some fancy footwork,” her grandmother commented, her eyes following Annie’s.
That reminded Annie of what Oliver had told her. “Oliver said you’re the one who taught him how to sweep a woman off her feet,” Annie said to her grandfather.
Kent chuckled. “He told you that, did he?”
“He claimed it was that dance move that won you Grandma’s heart.”
“Kent,” her grandmother protested.
“Well, it was.”
Julie leaned forward. “I am not that fickle, Annie. Don’t you believe your grandfather for one moment. While it is true that Kent could dance circles around any other boy I ever dated, my falling in love with him had nothing to do with his moves on the dance floor.”
“You’re denying it?” Annie’s grandfather asked, his question full of challenge.
“Well, okay, to be fair, I was impressed by what a great dancer he is, but it was his eyes that really won me over.”
Kent frowned. “My eyes?”
“I found them absolutely adorable. Still do,” her grandmother confessed with a soft sigh.
Instead of being pleased, Annie’s grandfather frowned and scratched the side of his head. “Well, that certainly comes as a surprise.”
“For heaven’s sake, Kent, after fifty years you should have been able to figure that out.”
“Guess you’re right,” he murmured, although he continued to frown.
“That’s a compliment, Grandpa,” Annie said, surprised by his reaction.
“I know. It’s just that I told Oliver …” He snapped his mouth closed as if he’d said more than he’d intended to.
“What did you tell Oliver?” her grandmother asked.
Annie was curious herself. “Yes, what did you tell Oliver?”
Kent shook his head as if it was of no concern. “We chatted about women in general. Oliver asked me a few questions, and I answered him as best I could.”
“Kent!”
“He wanted my advice when it came to Annie here.”
“Kent!” Her grandmother’s eyes widened. “You told me whatever happened or didn’t happen between Annie and Oliver was none of our affair and I should stay out of it.”
Annie’s gaze shot between her grandfather and her grandmother. “What are you two talking about?”
They ignored her. “Oliver said he wanted a marriage that would last fifty years, the same as the two of us, and asked my advice.”
“It sounds to me like you wandered down the same path you insisted I not take,” her grandmother said, and appeared none too pleased.
“He wanted specifics.”
“Specifics?” Annie asked, wanting details herself.
“Yes. Like how did I convince Julie to fall in love with me? I thought it was my dancing, but apparently I got it wrong.”
“You old fool, it was a lot more than that. You were thoughtful and loving.”
“And my sister, God rest her soul, fed you information.”
“True,” her grandmother admitted, somewhat reluctantly.
“So what does it hurt if I answer Oliver’s questions about Annie?”
“Well, seeing that it’s Annie …”
The two of them spoke as if they’d completely forgotten that Annie was sitting only a couple of feet away.
“Hey, you two. Remember me?”
“Of course,” her grandmother said, without looking at her. She stretched out her arm and patted Annie’s knee. “Just be patient while your grandfather and I settle this. Kent Shivers, it seems to me you’ve been something of a hypocrite.”
Her grandfather did look slightly guilty. “We both want the same thing—we just have different methods.”
While her grandparents became involved in their discussion, Annie didn’t notice that the music had stopped. When next she looked up, Oliver was standing at her side.
“I believe this dance is mine,” he said, and held out his hand to her.
Without even realizing what she was doing, Annie rose to her feet, her gaze holding his.
Oliver’s arms went around her, and she pressed the side of her face against his chest. It felt good to be in his arms. Right.
“It is true, isn’t it?” she said, more to herself than to question him.
Oliver kissed the top of her head. Even without knowing what she asked about, he answered, “Every word.”
Chapter 26
I was barely able to distract myself until Grace arrived. I’d spoken briefly with the librarian, although I hadn’t given her any of the details of why I’d called. She must have heard the anxiety in my voice, because right away she promised to visit as soon as the Saturday movie finished. It would be over in less than an hour.
I felt mildly guilty for bothering her in the middle of the afternoon event, but she’d assured me it wasn’t a problem. Rover, my constant and faithful companion, sat with me as I waited.
When I heard a car door close, I walked around to the front of the porch and was grateful to see it was Grace. Her pace quickened when she saw me. Although she was several years older than me, probably close to my mother’s age, I considered her a friend. If not for Grace, I wouldn’t have Rover. She wore a denim jumper over a long-sleeved red turtleneck shirt.
As she approached, she held out both hands to me. “Jo Marie, is everything all right? You sounded so upset.”
I could lie and tell her everything was hunky-dory, but it wasn’t, and I was unable to pretend otherwise.
“Do you have time to talk for a few minutes?” I asked, instead of answering her question.
“Of course.”
We sat down right where we were on the porch steps. She continued to hold my hands, and Rover, my wonderful Rover, sensed my distress and pressed his chin against my thigh.
“Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions first?” I asked.
“You can ask me anything,” Grace assured me, and then laughed softly. “Well, anything within reason.”
“Your first husband died?”
Sadness bled into her eyes, and a faraway look stole over her. “His name was Dan, and we were married nearly thirty years.”
“I heard …” I sincerely hoped I wasn’t bringing up a time so painful that it was difficult to speak of it.
“What did you hear?” Grace pressed.
“Mark told me Dan was missing for several months before you knew he was dead.”
The sad look in her eyes deepened. “He was missing for over a year.”
“A year … and did you hold out hope that he was alive during that time?” I couldn’t help asking, wanting so desperately to believe in my own situation.
“Oh, yes, I was convinced of it. Dan had left like this before, a couple of times, actually. He’d disappear for a day or two without a word. The first time I panicked, not knowing what to think. Because I was worried out of my mind, I called the sheriff and reported him missing. When he returned, Dan was furious with me.”
Grace’s circumstances were completely different than my own, but the feelings she experienced, not knowing one way or the other, were achingly familiar. This was the nightmare I had been living with ever since I’d gotten the phone call from Lieutenant Colonel Milford.
“The next time he disappeared, it was for much longer. In a short period of time, he returned to the house twice. Both times it was while I was at work.”
“How’d you know? Were things missing from the house?”
“Not that I noticed, at least not right away.”
I could see this was difficult for her, bringing up memories Grace would rather forget, and I was sorry to cause her to relive all this again. “If yo
“No, it’s fine.”
I thanked her with a small smile.
“It’s funny,” she said. “Not humorous funny, but a weird sort of funny. The minute I walked into the house, I sensed Dan had been there. I even called out his name, thinking he was back. I stood in the middle of the room and waited for him to reply. He’d vanish for a few days, then return and act as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been gone for two nights or longer and I should just ignore the fact that he’d disappeared.”
“So when he was gone for an extended period of time, longer than a couple of days, did you have any idea where he’d gone or what had happened to him?”
She smiled, but I could see it wasn’t one of amusement. “I assumed he’d left me for another woman.”
“What made you think that?”
“A couple of things. First off, I found his wedding band. He’d left that behind, as if casting me aside, dismissing our wedding vows. A month or so after he disappeared the last time, I found a charge on our credit card from a jeweler I didn’t know. I was so angry. I contacted the jewelry store, but all they could tell me was what he’d purchased: a ring. I assumed the jewelry was for another woman. What hurt was the fact that he’d left me to pay for it.”
“Was it for someone else?”
Grace clenched her hands together. “Not until later did I learn he’d bought himself another wedding band. Apparently, he thought he’d lost the one I’d found, and he wanted to have his wedding ring on when he killed himself. In retrospect, I realized this was his twisted way of honoring me, our daughters, and our marriage.”
Seeing how painful this was for my friend, I squeezed her hands. “You don’t need to tell me any more.”
“I’m sure you have a reason for asking, and I think talking about Dan helps. Finding his wedding band and the bill from the jeweler weren’t the only reasons I assumed there was someone else.”
“Oh?”
“Not long after he disappeared, I was working at the library when someone came running in and said they’d seen Dan in town. He was in his pickup and he wasn’t alone. There was another woman with him. To flaunt her like that, to embarrass me in front of the entire town, was more than I could take.
“I was determined to confront him for the agony he’d put me and the girls through. I can still remember how angry and frustrated I was. In my rush to find him, I raced out of the library like a madwoman. I fell and badly scraped my knee and then sat and wept.”
“Was it Dan? Was he with someone else?”
“No. It couldn’t have been him. By this time several weeks had passed, and when his body was recovered it showed he’d been dead long before that incident.”
“You were angry?”
“Angry?” she repeated. “That doesn’t even begin to explain how furious I was. Shortly after that, I had some sort of emotional breakdown, I think. The neighbors were so concerned they called my daughters.”
I could only imagine the pain and anger Grace must have felt. “What happened?”
She laughed, and the sound was genuine. “I emptied Dan’s side of the closet. I carted armload after armload of his clothes outside and hurled them onto the lawn. To my way of thinking, if he wanted to leave me, then he should have taken everything with him.”
“It was a hellish time for you, wasn’t it?”
Grace looked blankly into the distance. “Dan was a different person when he came back after serving in Vietnam. I’m convinced he was a victim of post-traumatic stress disorder, but neither Dan nor I knew what was wrong.
“I didn’t know how to help him. Our marriage wasn’t wonderful, but it wasn’t bad, either. We were content with each other. To the best of his ability, Dan loved me and our daughters. Unfortunately, he couldn’t let go of the past. It tormented him.”
From articles I’d read, I understood how tension and anxiety had profoundly affected our soldiers in and out of combat. Thankfully, there were programs in place to help, but there weren’t nearly enough, and many of those coping mechanisms had come too late to help men like Dan.
“He suffered for years. He never felt he was worthy of anything good. I remember one time I found the Christmas gifts the girls and I had given him in the garage. He’d destroyed them, cut them into pieces, and then for whatever reason he hid them there.”
It was all too apparent Grace’s first husband had undergone a great deal of mental anguish.
“Death was a release for him. He carried the burden of guilt and shame from an incident that happened in the war. At the time, he was nineteen years old, and he was never able to forget it.”
“He’s at peace now,” I whispered. Although I desperately longed for Paul to be alive, more important, I wanted him to know serenity and peace.
“Does hearing about Dan help you?” Grace asked me.
It was time to tell Grace my dilemma. “Mrs. Coryelle stopped by the house this afternoon,” I said, plunging right in.
“Marion Coryelle?”
“Yes. She lives next door.” It wasn’t exactly next door, but down the hill from me, which was why I kept an eye out for her, seeing how elderly she was.
“I assumed she was housebound. Her daughter stops by the library and gets the large-print books for her. She loves to read.”
“She’s a good neighbor … a letter to me was placed in her mailbox, and she brought it to me herself.”
“The letter is what upset you so much?”
I looked away, for fear I wouldn’t be able to continue without my voice cracking. “It was from a friend of Paul’s.”
Grace scooted a bit closer to me.
“It seems Paul gave him a letter to deliver to me in the case of his death. His friend apologized and said he’d forgotten about it and recently came across it and mailed it off right away.”
“Oh, Jo Marie, no wonder you’re upset.”
That was an understatement.
“Did you read the letter?”
“No.”
“Do you want me to be with you when you do?”
“No. I refuse to read it …”
“Would you like me to read it first?” Her voice was soft and gentle.
“I won’t read it … not until I have proof that Paul is dead.” I broke into sobs then, and Rover started to whine and lick my face. Wrapping my arm around his small body, I brought him onto my lap.
Grace placed her arm around me. “You may have to accept that his body may never be located.”
I realized then she didn’t know about Lieutenant Colonel Milford’s phone call. Sniffling, I straightened and drew in a deep, calming breath.
“I heard from the army, Lieutenant Colonel Milford, earlier in the week,” I continued. “The site where the helicopter went down is now accessible, and the bodies were retrieved. Six men were on the helicopter, and the remains of five men were located. The army is running DNA tests now. However slight the chance, there’s a possibility that one man might have managed to survive.
“It could be Paul. He could be alive. I refuse to give up hope … If he were dead, I’d feel it. I know I would.” I don’t know why I argued so hard or adamantly, as if it was necessary to convince Grace that my husband might be alive.
She didn’t say anything for a long time, and when she spoke, her voice was so low I had to strain to hear. “All that year Dan was missing, I thought I’d know if he was dead, too. I was convinced I’d feel it.”
“Did you?” I asked.
“That was part of the reason I believed he’d found someone else who could make him happy.” Leaning forward, Grace looped her arms around her knees. “It made no sense that he would decide to kill himself when he did. None whatsoever. Our first grandchild was about to be born, and Kelly and her father were especially close.”
“You didn’t feel it?”
“No, and you won’t with Paul, either. As much as you love him, as much as I loved Dan, he had his own life path, and Paul
I thought about the letter awaiting me in my nightstand. Grace reached over and touched my arm. “You don’t need to read his letter now. Wait if you wish. You know where it is, and your heart will tell you when the time is right.”
Her advice was good, and I recognized the wisdom of her words. I had other questions but felt unsure how best to phrase them. “How … How did you go on?”
The same thoughtful look I’d seen earlier was back. “A death of someone so close to us, like a husband or a child, hurts beyond comprehension. The pain is strong enough to kill a person, and unless you’ve been through it personally, no one could ever understand. I know how badly my friend Olivia wanted to help see me through Dan’s disappearance and death. She’d lost a son, so she understood, but there are no words of comfort, nothing anyone can say to ease this kind of pain. There simply are no words.”
I swallowed and nodded.
“It’s a wound, but unlike a physical cut, there is no medication that will take the pain away, nor is there a prescribed time in which it will heal. You know if you broke a bone in about six weeks it will mend itself. It isn’t that way dealing with a death. Do you believe you’ll get over losing Paul?”
“Will I?” I needed answers, not more questions. “Did you get over Dan?”
“No,” she whispered. “He was my husband, the father of my children. I spent the majority of my adult life with him—I will always love Dan. But at the same time, I can assure you that life goes on. In the beginning, you won’t want it to. It feels like everything should stand still; life as you know it should stop while you try to absorb what has happened.”
That was how I’d felt when I’d first gotten the news about the helicopter crash. It felt as if life had come to an end for me, too. I dragged myself from one day into the next with no sense of time or distance, stunned, horrified, shocked, and disbelieving.
“You remarried.” Grace had a new life now, and this was more statement than question.
“I have,” Grace said, and her eyes brightened. “This is another life lesson that attaches itself to the death of a loved one. Because life does go on, no matter how hard we try to cling to the way it once was, we are pulled along, too. In my case, I went kicking and screaming. I’d had a year without Dan. A year to learn to live without him.”