Every Breath(54)

“How did she find out?”

“I’m not sure,” he answered. “I’m assuming someone told her.”

“Yes,” Hope said, “he was there.”

“And the two of you spoke?”

“A little,” she said. Until last week, she couldn’t have imagined keeping the marriage proposal secret from her dad, but in the close, muggy air of that September evening, she couldn’t form the words. Instead she said, “We’re going to have dinner tomorrow night.”

He looked over at his daughter, his soft eyes trying to read her. “I hope it goes well,” he said. “Whatever that means to you.”

“Me too.”

“He has some explaining to do, if you ask me.”

“I know,” she answered. Inside, she heard the grandfather clock chime. Earlier in the day, she had taken a dusty atlas down from the shelf at home and calculated the time difference with Zimbabwe. Counting forward, she figured out that it was now the middle of the night there. She assumed that Tru was in Bulawayo with Andrew, and wondered what they had planned when they woke for the day. Would he take Andrew into the bush to see the animals, or would they kick a ball back and forth, or simply go for a walk? She wondered whether Tru was still thinking about her, in the same way she couldn’t stop thinking about him. In the silence, the words from his letter tried to force their way to the surface.

She knew her dad was waiting for her to speak. In the past, whenever she’d had problems or concerns, she’d gone to him. He had a way of listening that always comforted her. Naturally empathetic, he seldom offered advice. He would instead ask what she thought she should do, silently encouraging her to trust her own instincts and judgment.

But now, after reading what Tru had written, she couldn’t help thinking that she’d made a terrible mistake. As she sat beside her father, her final morning with Tru began to replay in slow motion. She remembered the way Tru had looked when he’d stepped onto the deck, the feel of his hand in hers as they strolled down the beach. She recalled his stricken expression when she’d told him of Josh’s proposal.

Those weren’t the most piercing memories, however. Instead, she thought about the way he’d begged her to come with him to Zimbabwe; she saw him bent over double as she made that final turn, away from a possible life together.

She knew she could change things. It wasn’t too late. She could book a flight to Zimbabwe tomorrow and go to him; she’d say that she knew now that the two of them were destined to grow old together. They could make love in a foreign locale, and she would become someone new, whose life she had only fantasized about.

She wanted to say those things to her dad. She wanted to tell him everything. She wanted him to say that her happiness was all that mattered to him, but before she could speak, she felt a lick of breeze, and all at once, she pictured Tru sitting beside her at Kindred Spirit, the wind ruffling his thick hair.

She’d done the right thing, hadn’t she?

Hadn’t she?

The crickets continued to sing, the night settling heavily, with an almost suffocating weight. Moonlight threaded the branches of the trees. On the street, a car passed by, the windows down and radio playing. She remembered the jazz music on the radio when Tru had held her in the kitchen.

“I forgot to ask you,” her dad finally said, “and I know it was storming most of the week. But did you ever make it to Kindred Spirit?”

At his words, the dam suddenly burst and Hope choked out a cry, which quickly gave way to sobbing.

“What did I say?” he asked in a panic, but she could barely hear him. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, sweetheart…”

She shook her head, unable to answer. In a haze, she felt her father put a hand on her knee. Even without opening her eyes, she knew he was staring at her with alarm and concern. But all she could think about was Tru, and there was nothing she could do to stop the tears.





PART II





SANDS IN THE HOURGLASS




October 2014

Memories are a doorway to the past, and the more one treasures the memories, the wider the door will open. That’s what Hope’s father used to say, anyway, and like many of the things he’d told her, the passage of time seemed to amplify its wisdom.

But then again, time had a way of changing everything, she thought. As she reflected on her life, it seemed impossible to believe that nearly a quarter century had passed since those days at Sunset Beach. So much had happened since then and she often felt as though she’d become an entirely different person than she once had been.

Now, she was alone. It was early evening, with a hint of winter evident in the brisk air, and she sat on the back porch of her home in Raleigh, North Carolina. Moonlight was casting an eerie glow across the lawn and silvering the leaves that stirred in the breeze. The rustling sound made it seem as though voices of the past were calling to her, as they often did these days. She thought about her children, and as she moved the rocker slowly back and forth, the memories tumbled forth in a kaleidoscope of images. In the darkness, she recalled the awe she’d felt when holding each of them in the hospital; she smiled at the sight of them running naked down the hallway after taking their baths as toddlers. She thought about their gap-toothed smiles after their baby teeth fell out, and relived the mixture of pride and worry she’d experienced as they’d struggled through their teenage years. They were good kids. Great kids. To her surprise, she realized that she could even recall Josh with a fondness that had once seemed impossible. They’d divorced eight years ago, but at sixty, Hope liked to believe that she’d reached the point where forgiveness came easily.