Beyond the Point(119)
I know our love can withstand everything that this year will bring. I know we can endure it. Here’s a poem for you (I wrote it, don’t laugh):
We are an oak tree, planted deep in the soil of love.
The heat comes to batter our branches,
The winter brings its icy burden,
But the oak will never fall.
Though it dies, it will rise to new life when the spring comes again.
Remember I love you.
Tim
37
December 9, 2006 // Fort Bragg, North Carolina
You’ve got to get her out of the house.”
Emily stood in front of Dani, bobbing a screaming Jack on her hip. Outside, snow fell and stuck to the ground in thick flakes, adding to the sense that they were trapped. A red bird flew across the yard and landed on a bare tree branch. Dani watched it sit there, undisturbed by the cold.
“To do what?” Dani asked.
“Anything.” Clipping Jack into his high chair, Emily placed a bowl of oatmeal on the tray and tested its temperature with her forefinger. “She’s got to start experiencing the outside world. You’ve got to take control, D. Start calling some shots.”
“What about a movie?” Avery suggested. She was standing at the stove trying and failing to make eggs over-easy. The yolks both broke.
“I think she’d feel claustrophobic in a movie,” said Emily. “Maybe you should just ask her. See what she’s up for.”
Holding the plate of scrambled eggs, Avery walked upstairs, with Dani close behind. A large box fan whirred on the second-floor landing, which made enough noise so everyone could sleep at night—even if Hannah couldn’t. A comforter was still crumpled on the floor beside Hannah’s bed, where they’d taken turns sleeping night after night. Dani had finally purchased a one-way ticket back to London, scheduled to leave tomorrow. She hated to think of facing Laura Klein—but life was too precious to waste today worrying about tomorrow. And Emily was right. If this was Dani’s last day with Hannah, she needed to make it count.
Stopping at Hannah’s door, Dani placed her ear to it carefully. Hearing nothing, she turned the knob and went in. In the soft winter light coming through the window, Hannah looked angelic. She tossed a handful of used tissues into the air, and they fell on the bed like snot-laden snowflakes.
“Look at me,” she said. “What a mess.”
Dani smiled as she walked into the room. “Yep. You look like hell.”
“Let’s get you out of the house today,” Avery said, handing over the badly prepared eggs. “Get some fresh air. Change of scenery.”
Hannah blew her nose, loudly. “To do what?” she said through the tissue.
“One thing at a time,” Dani said. “First, shower. I’ll pick your outfit.”
Dani pulled the covers off Hannah’s legs and clapped her hands. “Rise and shine, soldier. We’re burning daylight.”
While Hannah trudged to the shower, Dani scanned Hannah’s closet. Everything carried a memory. Nothing was void of emotion. Choose the wrong outfit, and the whole mission could be thwarted. She considered each piece carefully, then realized they hadn’t even decided where they were going.
Ice cream? She considered. No. It’s too cold for that.
Shopping? No. Too many choices. Too many screaming kids.
Then she thought of it. Grabbing Hannah a pair of stretchy jeans and a black T-shirt, Dani folded them perfectly and topped the stack with a bra and clean underwear.
Whether Hannah liked it or not, they were going to the spa.
HALF AN HOUR later, they arrived at a small strip mall outside of Fort Bragg, where an Asian woman invited them to come in from the cold. The walls inside were white and powder blue and somewhere an electronic fountain trickled water through stones. Dani could see several women with their hands lit by table lamps, getting manicures. All along the right wall, mirrors reflected women getting haircuts. And from the looks of the menu, there were waxing rooms, massage rooms, and a staff of hairdressers on site to cut, color, and style hair. In the back, a row of white chairs sat enthroned behind a row of water basins, where women could get pedicures. Dani pointed in that direction.
“Pedicures,” she said to the woman at the front of the spa. “And can we sit together?”
“Sure. Pick color,” the woman said, pointing toward a wall of nail polish.
As Avery walked toward the rainbow assortment of colors, Dani noticed Hannah’s face contort with emotion.
“No, no, no . . . ,” Dani said, grabbing Hannah’s shoulders tenderly. “It’s okay.”
Without a response, Hannah pushed through the salon door, back out into the cold. A bell rang as she exited. Dani motioned to the staff to give them just one minute. Then she and Avery followed Hannah outside.
Dani shivered against the cold. Hannah unwrapped the scarf from her neck, as though it were suffocating her.
“Why did you bring me here?” she said, her eyes wet with tears.
“Maybe it will make you feel better, even just for a few minutes,” said Avery.
“Feel better? Feel better?! Avery! I’m never going to feel better. TIM DIED. HE DIED.”
Hannah collapsed onto a bench and put her head in her hands.
They sat next to her for a long time, watching their breath. Dani knew better than to touch Hannah or to respond too quickly. Sometimes you just needed the truth to linger between you, even if it felt awkward. Even if there were no silver linings.