Starting Over

Chapter 5

Chapter 5Janet veered off Northside Drive Road onto El Portal Road and headed out of Yosemite National Park toward San Francisco. She'd spent the last ten days here with Nate under the towering rock and stone of the glacier carved valley. The trip was as much to determine shots she wanted to get when she came back in mid-February as it was to give Nate a breather from the local press.

She drove along the tree-lined road in the shadow of the towering granite walls, thinking about what to do regarding Christmas. Her brother, Craig, and his wife and kids were flying in from Florida. Her friend and mentor, Mick Danzer and his wife Sandra were coming in from San Francisco. With Kyle and his fiancé Debbie, along with Trevor and Nadia, she had a full house.

“I love your sister and I try to be sympathetic to her feelings, but this feud with your brother has got to end,” she said, slowing down around a sharp bend in the road.

Nate was quiet a minute. “You're obsessing, Mom.” He grabbed her CD wallet and slid a disc into the CD player. A moment later, Bono's voice filled the empty spaces.

She frowned. Obsessing? Really? “Your father would have wanted it, Nate. And the last thing I need right now is another tension-filled holiday. I'm tired of it. Tired of feeling like a diplomat in my own house. Lord knows your brother's trying.”

He dug into the bag of trail mix and popped a hand-full into his mouth. “I suppose…I need to stretch my legs. Mind pulling over at the next turn-off.”

She glanced over and saw him rubbing his thigh. “You think you might've over-done it yesterday? Your leg needs time to heal.”

“Its fine. Just doesn't like being cooped up in the car is all. Besides, Barry and Andy say I'm making progress.”

“Well, that's good to hear,” she said and thought about the man she passed in the hospital lobby a couple weeks ago. Might he be the same Andy, Nate was referring to? “So, you have two Physical Therapists?”

“No. Barry's the PT. Andy's a volunteer. Helps out around the clinic and stuff.” He cleared his throat and his stoic expression brightened. “He's pretty interesting.”

Finally a smile! “Who, Andy?”

“Yeah. He was a gunny in Nam.”

“You mean a sniper?”

“No…and yes,” he conceded. “They don't like the term. They do what they have to, to protect the men, but it's not who they are, not really.”

“I see,” she said. A backhoe pulled onto the road ahead. She slowed down, went around it. “Hmm…so what else besides guns do you two talk about?”

He shrugged. “Well, he used to be a paramedic.”

“Used to be?”

He shut the trail mix bag and set it on the floor between his legs. “He's retired. Owns a bookstore or something like it in town.” He pointed to a rest stop ahead. “There's one.”

She eased the car onto the broken macadam ramp and parked. He got out and hobbled over to a picnic table. She switched over to a radio. The station was playing oldies. Sixties and seventies rock and roll. The music of her brother's generation. As she sat listening to Jefferson Airplane protest a war that divided the country, she thought of the war her country was involved in right now. A war where people hijacked planes. Flew them into buildings.

A war that took Nate away from her for five years.

A war that stole precious time from his father.

A war that sent him home damaged.

She wanted to think of Nate as a hero, but all she could think of were the should'a'beens. But how could he have known what the future held for his father? And how could she blame him for his choices?

In the end it had cost Nate dearly. The physical injuries would heal over time. The emotional ones: not so much. As hard as she'd struggled with her decision to place Neil in Hazelnut, it had been exponentially harder for Nate to deal with being away in an uncertain world. And now, it had spit him out like a wad of gum that no longer served its useful purpose.

She drummed her fingers on the wheel as the late afternoon sun pressed down on the windshield. A destination sign ahead noted they were fifteen miles out of Merced. It would be another four hours and change from there to San Francisco. There, they would stay with her old friend Mick, and his wife Sandra. It had been a while since she'd seen them. Maybe Sandra could reach Nate. She was a therapist; maybe she could get him talking.

As she struggled for answers, the sound of a guitar snuck under her thoughts. She blinked, and for the next a two and a half minutes, Paul McCartney's voice floated out of the radio. Suddenly, she was transported back in time to her wedding on the beach. Her lips formed the words: And I love her. The memory of Neil's smiling face gripped her.

That evening, she and Nate joined Mick and his wife out by the pool. There, the conversation bounced from the weather to family to Nate's impending Distinguished Service medal, (which was quickly cut off by Nate) and finally to Mick's latest home improvement projects. She listened as Mick laid out his plans for the back yard.

Sandy broke into Mick's long-winded presentation. “Hey, Jan, it's getting chilly. You want a jacket?”

Janet yawned. “I'm good. What about you, Nate?” When he shook his head, she turned to Mick. “Sounds like you're gonna be busy this summer. Between work and all you have going on, you'll be meeting yourself coming and going.”

Mick stood, grabbed his wine glass off the patio table. Taking a healthy gulp, he cleared his throat. “Well, yes and no.” He eyed Sandy with a tentative expression. “Sandy and I've been talking over things. I'm not getting any younger. We think it's time to retire.”

“Really?” Janet said. She sat back in her chair and crossed her legs. Retirement was not a word that'd ever crossed Mick's lips.

“Yep. Just need to fill my position and I'm outta there.”

“Any idea how long it'll take,” Janet said.

Mick gulped another swallow of wine and eyed her speculatively. “Could be pretty soon, depending…”

“On what?” Janet said, crossing her arms. She'd seen that look before. It was one Mick gave when he was about to spring something on someone.

He rubbed his chin, looked off over the pool then turned back to her. “Umm…well, I've been talking with Harry and umm … well, your name sort'a came up. Actually, quite a bit.”

The wind went out of her and set her glass down. “Mick, what did you do?”

“Nothing … Just talking.” He shot her one of his classic, sad-little-boy expressions. “You know, brainstorming.”

Janet eyed Sandra, who was sitting in the chair beside her. “Did you know anything about this?”

When Sandy shrugged, Mick continued, “Harry thinks you'd be a good fit, and so do I.” Janet glanced at Nate, who was sitting across from her nursing a beer. There's no way I'm going anywhere. But Mick went on, “You don't have to make a decision right now. Just think about it. It's a hell of an opportunity.”

Janet smiled. “I appreciate the thought, really I do, but I afraid I'm going to have to pass.”

Mick drained his glass. “You passed a number of years ago if I remember correctly.”

“Well, yeah I did, and I have to admit, I probably made a mistake,” Janet confessed. “But things are different now.”

“Well, that's true, but–”

“Mick, honey, let it go,” Sandra interjected.

But Mick pressed on. “You sure, Jan? Lot of prestige, here.”

“And a lot of time away from home,” Sandra put in. She gave Janet a knowing glance.

Mick shot Sandra a 'what-are-you-doing-to-me' look. To Janet, he said, “What about moving here? San Fran's a great town. We'd love having you close by.”

You don't give up, do you? “I'm sure it is. But I could never sell the house.”

“I wasn't insinuating you would,” Mick said. “Megan's living with you and Nate's home now, give it to them.”

That earned a raised brow from Nate.

Sandra let out a protracted sigh. “Mick, really?” To Janet, she said, “Please excuse my i***t husband. Sometimes he's clueless.” She turned to Mick. “Sweetheart, her husband built that house for her. She could no more part with it than I could part with your wedding ring.”

Mick frowned. It was obvious he was working out what Sandra meant. To him, a wedding ring could be replaced. He had no clue of the underlying objection Janet had and that his wife understood.

Finally, he shrugged. “I guess I see your point.” He turned to Janet. Gave her a look of resignation. Not one she was used to seeing on him. When he wanted something, he didn't give up easily. Finally, he said, “Well, I guess the answer's, no, then, isn't it?”

“I'm afraid so,” she said, but she couldn't help seeing her father shaking his head in her mind's eye. Yes, I know Dad. Never burn your bridges, but helping Nate overrules this hands down.

When nine o'clock came around, Janet announced she was turning in for the night. She went over to her son, who was chatting Mick up about the Niner's prospects. Giving him a peck on the cheek, she headed for the guest room down the hallway. Sandra followed close behind.

“You want an extra blanket?”

“No, I'm fine, but thanks,” Janet said. “Dinner was great. Thanks for having us.”

“Not a problem. You two are always welcome here.” Sandra lowered her voice. “Would you ever consider leaving Salem?”

Janet shook her head. “Right now, no, but who knows.”

Sandra looked back over her shoulder then eyed Janet confidingly. “Keep that under your hat or you'll have you know who breathing down your neck…By the way, how are you? With Nate's coming home a hero and injured along with the anniversary of Neil's passing, you must be in tatters.”

“I am. I miss Neil terribly some days, but I'm doing okay. And now that Nate's home, I have my hands full. He's thinking of moving out.”

Sandra drew back. “Moving out?”

“Yeah. I don't know what to do about it.”

“He's seeing someone about what happened, right?” Sandra said.

Janet shrugged. “He says he is, but I don't know for sure.”

Sandra reached out. Clasped hands with Janet. “It takes time. He'll come around.”

“On the drive here I was thinking maybe…maybe you could talk to him.”

“Oh, I'd love to help, you know I would, but I can't,” Sandra said. “If he's seeing someone, he'll be okay. Give it time. Whatever's going on will work itself out. You'll see.”

Janet nodded, squeezed Sandra's hand and forced a smile. “I guess.”

They started back down the hall. As Sandra opened the linen closet door, she said, “By the way, how goes your work with the local Alzheimer's Association?”

“Challenging, but rewarding.”

“And your book?”

“My publisher's a pain in the ass.”

Sandra handed her a towel and nodded toward the door. “Let's get you settled.”

The two of them went in and pulled the covers back on the bed. As Janet tossed the accent pillows on the chair beside her, the pant leg of her capris pulled back. A long, faint scar showed itself on the side of her leg.

It caught Sandra's attention. “From the accident?”

Janet nodded. “It's my beauty mark.” She paused. “Actually, it's more than that. It's my touchstone 'cause it brought my father back into my life.”

Mick knocked at the door. “You two gonna cackle all night?”

They looked back at him as he leaned against the doorway wearing a green terrycloth robe. For a moment, Janet saw her father in his expression. It hardly seemed possible he had passed six years ago. Until now, she hadn't realized how little she thought of him over the last year. How did that happen? And why couldn't she remember the sound of his voice? Would the memory of his face soon follow?