Blackberry Winter: A Novel (35 page)

I finished my oatmeal, then pulled my hair into a ponytail. Without thinking about what I was doing, I lifted a pair of shorts and a T-shirt from my dresser, and stood in front of the floor-length mirror in my bedroom. My legs were not what they were. Once toned and strong, they looked soft and doughy. I wasn’t a runner anymore.
Could I ever be again?

I turned to the closet, which looked bare without Ethan’s clothes inside. I looked away, and a flash of blue caught my attention on the lower shoe rack. My running shoes. They sat there unassumingly, no longer taunting me the way they had in previous months. Now they only waited patiently, quietly. I walked to them and picked them up, sitting on the bed as I slowly sank my feet into their soft soles. I liked the way they felt, snug and sure. I laced them up, tying the bow into a double knot. My heart beat faster as I took a sip of water and tucked my cell phone and keys into my pocket, rituals I had done hundreds of times before going on jogs in the past.

Gene didn’t say anything as I stepped off the elevator and walked through the lobby. It was a moment unworthy of conversation. Besides, my mind was churning and my heart heavy. It had been a year since I’d last set out for a jog. A life-changing year. He simply held the door open for me as I walked out onto the street, nodding as I crossed the threshold. I’d run many races over the years. But this one, even if it only turned out to be three blocks, felt like the race of my life. And it was.

At first I walked.
One foot in front of the other.
Once strong and solid, my legs felt like popsicle sticks under me. I shook my head.
No, I can’t do this.
A gap in the sidewalk sent my heart racing. I remembered the car jetting toward me. The way I’d tripped. The impact, followed by the snap in my abdomen.
One foot in front of the other.
I picked up my pace, cautiously.
Breathe.
The sun shone down on my cheeks, warm and approving. A woman looked up at me from a nearby café and smiled.
Breathe.
Birds chirped from their perch on the electrical lines overhead. Before I knew it, I was running again, really running.

I zigzagged through the blocks by the apartment, then decided to make the hike up past Café Lavanto. I wouldn’t go in, not after Dominic’s revelation the other night. But I longed to run past it, to imagine Warren playing outside as a boy. Sweaty and out of breath, I reached the top of the hill and doubled over with a side ache. I clutched my side and took several deep breaths, then looked up at the café on the block ahead. The building was partitioned off with orange cones. Men in hardhats holding clipboards buzzed around the entrance, pointing to the structure. Yellow caution tape forbade anyone from coming in for a latte. Or a hot chocolate.
Surely they aren’t starting demolition yet?
I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and dialed Dominic’s number, but after three rings, his voice mail picked up. “Dominic,” I said loudly over the noise of a large truck backing up in front of the café. “You said you were selling it, but I didn’t think this was happening so soon. I…”

Speechless, I hung up my phone, inching closer to the caution tape, and waved at a man wearing a yellow hard hat. “Excuse me!” I shouted.

He walked over with the look of someone who did not want to be bothered.

“What’s going on here?”

“The building’s going to come down,” he said. “Well, not today. We’re just getting ready.”

“No!” I cried. “It can’t be.”

The man shrugged. “Well, it is.” He flipped his clipboard around to display the architectural drawings for what looked like a new condo building. In the renderings, a Starbucks café occupied the bottom floor. “We got permits pushed through quickly on this one. Boss wants the new building up before the one across the street is finished.

I shook my head.

“Hard to believe an old place like this stuck around as long as it did,” he said, glancing at the sign on the window. “What a dump.”

“This
dump
,” I said, “happens to be a very special place. It’s where—”

The man shouted something at a worker in the distance and walked away.

“It’s where Vera and Daniel lived,” I continued, even if I was the only one listening. “You can’t tear it down. You just can’t.”

I watched for a while as the construction crew milled about. They swarmed like termites gathering to devour a rotted piece of wood. I wanted to fling myself at the building and hold my arms out to protect it, the way hard-core environmentalists chain themselves to trees. I felt sick thinking of all the memories, all the secrets, that would come toppling down when the wrecking ball tore through it.
I hated to think that I might have missed something, but most important was making sure Warren got the chance to see it one more time.

I willed myself to walk away, picking up my pace to a jog as soon as I rounded the corner. As my breath quickened, my mind
turned to Ethan again. The memories caused my feet to push harder, my heart to pound louder. Before I knew it, I’d sprinted past Pacific Place and up to Broad Street, where the Space Needle gleamed overhead. That’s when it hit me.
It isn’t Ethan’s forgiveness I’m looking for; it’s my own.

My phone rang inside my pocket and I slowed my pace. When I saw Ethan’s number on the screen, my first instinct was to let the call go to voice mail. I thought about letting
him
go. I reached inside my pocket and clutched the phone as it rang a second time and then a third. I pulled it out. We had lost a baby. We had lost part of ourselves. We had been through so much. Too much. But it didn’t mean we had to lose each other.

I clicked the green button.

“Hi,” I said into the phone.

“Hi,” he said. “I want to come home—that is, if you’ll let me.”

“But I thought you said—”

“Claire, I don’t know what I said, and I can honestly say I don’t know how to fix us. All I know is that I want to.”

“Oh, Ethan,” I cried. “I want that too.”

“I’ll be on the next ferry.”

I ran another mile, then slowed to a walk once I was a block away from the apartment. Heart pounding. Face unable to stop smiling. I reached for my cell phone in my pocket and dialed Elliott Bay Jewelers.

“Yes, this is Claire Aldridge. I purchased a watch for my husband a while ago, and, well, I’ve decided on the engraving.”

“Yes,” the woman said, “what will it be?”

“Can you just print ‘Sonnet 43’?”

“That’s it?” the woman asked. “Nothing else?”

“No,” I said. “It sums up everything I need to say.”

I hung up the phone just as I reached the apartment building. Gene held the door open for me, sweat streaming down my face. “You’re back,” he said with a proud smile.

“I’m back,” I said, stepping into the elevator. This time, the words finally rang true.

I looked up from the couch as Ethan walked into the apartment. He set his bag down by the door, and it toppled over, spilling a file folder out onto the rug, but he didn’t stop to retrieve it. “Claire, I’m so sorry,” he said with a cautious smile, “for the way I’ve behaved.”

“Me too,” I said quietly.

He walked to me and knelt down so that his face was directly in front of mine. “You’re running again,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Finally.” I ran my fingers through his hair. A kiss of gray appeared at his temples, reminding me how much I longed to grow old with this man.

“A funny thing happened,” he said. “On the ferry over to the island, I saw a couple with a little boy.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “He was about the age our son would have been. One. Just barely walking.”

I clasped both hands behind Ethan’s neck and began to cry. “Our
son
?”

He nodded. “We had a son.”

“Ethan,” I cried, letting the revelation sink in and pierce my heart.

“He was a beautiful boy,” he said through tears. “He had your nose. I love your nose.”

I buried my face in his chest as he rocked me slowly. “I started to think about what life would be like without you, Claire, without us. Honey, I don’t want that life.”

“I don’t either,” I said, feeling a lump in my throat.

“What did the grief counselor say? That when you lose a child, you’re twice as likely to end up divorced?”

I nodded. “Something like that.”

“Let’s beat that statistic,” he said, wrapping his arm around my waist. “Let’s start over.

I nodded. “Daniel,” I said softly under my breath.

Ethan looked confused. “Daniel?”

“Yes,” I said, smiling. “Our baby. I want to call him Daniel.”

“Yes,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion. “Daniel. A perfect name for our first son.”

I smiled. “You talk as if we’ll have another.”

He grinned. “I’d like it if we did. If you’re ready…”

“I’m getting there,” I said, nuzzling my cheek against his neck.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said softly. “Can you ever forgive me?”

I weaved my fingers through his. “Can you ever forgive
me
?”

“I already have,” he said, looking out the window at the Sound and then back at me. “Hey, let’s forget about work today and go somewhere, right now, to celebrate our new beginning.”

I looked at the clock. “I can’t,” I said. “Not just yet. I already have a date.”

Ethan looked confused.

“With your grandfather,” I said, pressing my face against his chest, breathing in the scent of his crisp white shirt. My heart sank when I remembered the café’s proposed demolition. We were too late, but not too late for a final glance. Maybe that’s all
Warren needed, anyway. “I’d love it if you came with us,” I said, looking up at Ethan. “It’s a big moment for him.” I paused. “And for me.”

His keys jingled when he pulled them from his pocket, the sound of two people moving forward—together. “I’ll drive you.”

Ethan parked the car on the street in front of Eva’s building and Warren turned to me with a confused look. “But I thought we were going to—”

I looked at my watch, conscious of every minute passing. Even if the building wasn’t going to come down today, just knowing that it was so close to demolition made me increasingly anxious for Warren to see it one last time. But I’d promised Eva. “I wanted to make a stop first,” I said. “Just for a minute. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

Warren and Ethan followed as I led them to the elevator up to Eva’s floor. I knocked when we got to her door.

“Claire,” Eva said cheerfully, welcoming us inside. “And you brought friends! Let’s see, this must be your husband?” she said, turning to Ethan.

“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan said, slipping an arm around my waist. I loved the warmth of his embrace, but it wasn’t our moment; it was theirs.

“Eva,” I said quietly, “this is Warren Kensington, but you know him by another name.”

She looked at me and then at Warren, searching his face.

“Eva,” Warren said. Remembrance flickered in his eyes as he extended a hand to her. “It’s so good to see you again. You may remember me as Daniel. Daniel Ray.”

“My God,” Eva gasped. “Am I dreaming?” She sat down in a chair by the window. “It’s a miracle,” she continued, turning to me. “How did you…? Where did you…?”