Branching Out (20 page)

C
HAPTER
31

S
helby brushed the snow off of her parka as she entered the dark cave. She held out her lantern as she walked, marveling at the way the light illuminated the glassy stalactites of ice that hung from the ceiling like chandeliers. Then, slowly turning in a circle, she watched the spectacle of light and shadow dance across the frozen walls. Looking up, she knew the highest peaks in the cave ceiling reached upward of thirty or forty feet, although it was too dark to see. The ceiling was covered with shimmering icicles, the magnitude of which took her breath away. Smaller archways and caverns in the rock were laced with ice particles that resembled a galaxy of frosted stars, seemed to soften the rock, and added to the enchanted quality of the space.

Coming here at night was reckless, Shelby knew, but she had been drawn to it. It didn't make sense logically; it was simply a yearning to be in a sacred place on the lake where she could try to sort through everything that had happened and try desperately to find a way out of her despair.

She sat down on the ice with her body facing the cave entrance. Her grandfather would have likened it to a cathedral on the lake. Although he never would have allowed her to come out alone and in the dark, he would have agreed that it felt like a spiritual journey. For the first time in a great while, Shelby felt at peace as she sat beneath the ice crystals and chandeliers, watching the snow fall against the ice-blue backdrop of Lake Superior.

 

“Shelby?”

The figure of a man appeared at the cave's entrance. She recognized his voice immediately and wasn't entirely surprised.

“Are you in here?” he asked again when she didn't answer.

“Yes. Here.”

Ryan's face was illuminated by the lantern he carried and, as he approached, his features—and concern—became clearer. “Shelby, are you all right?” he asked, rushing to her side.

“You didn't have to come.”

“I don't understand—what are you doing here?” He raised his light to look around the cave, shaking his head in disbelief. He was visibly shaken, almost staggering around the cave to take in the scene, before turning his light toward her.

“I'm sorry.”

“You should be sorry—coming out here in the dark? On your own? Do you even realize how crazy this is?” he said loudly, visibly shaken. He was pacing now, stopping to look at her, shaking his head. “Just think if something had happened to you!” He stopped moving and raised his free hand to rub the back of his neck. His posture slumped, and when he spoke again his voice was distinctly quieter. “What were you thinking?”

It broke her heart to know that she had been the cause of such sadness.

“Please tell me why you would put your life at risk just to break away from me, because—because I just don't know what more I can do to keep you. . . .” Ryan's voice trailed off, and then his head dropped and he slowly lowered himself to sit on the ice.

Part of her wanted to run out of the entrance to the cave, past the massive icicles that clung to the brownstone arches. Keep on running out onto the ice. Run until she couldn't go any farther.
Just. Run.

“I don't know what else to do, Shel. Tell me what you want me to do.” His voice broke with emotion. He wasn't accusing or making demands. He looked as broken as she felt.

Shelby fixed her eyes on the lake. The snow had stopped falling outside of the cave's opening, and judging from the way the lake's surface had changed from indigo to lavender, she guessed that the moon had reappeared from behind the clouds. She couldn't imagine a place more private than this. If she was ever going to confide in her husband, now was the time.
Everything is my fault. My college boyfriend, Jeff—sailing off on Lake Superior right after we had had argued. My grandfather—taking Ryan out on the ice as a favor to me. And now our sweet baby boy, who never had a chance at life. I bring nothing good to the men I love. I'm the only one to blame. Ryan deserves better.

“Ryan, I—” she began, looking up at him.

“It's all my fault.” His admission took her off guard.

“No, it wasn't at all,” she said, thinking he was referring to Charlie. “I was the one who wasn't paying attention to the baby's movements. You had no way to know—neither of us could. The doctors said it was an accident. You got there as fast as you could; you—”

“Shel, I'm talking about Olen.” Ryan moved closer and sat down on an exposed rock beside her.

“I thought this was about the baby,” she said, turning to face Ryan.
He can't possibly know that I'm feeling connected to Grandpa tonight, too.
“What do you mean?”

He removed one glove and unzipped his parka, hesitating for a moment before reaching inside. When he withdrew his hand, Shelby saw that he was holding on to a key.

“This was your grandfather's.” He held it out for her. She removed her glove long enough to hold the key, turn it in her hand, and return it to him.

“What is it for?”

Ryan returned it safely into his jacket. Then, sheltered from the rest of the world in a frozen hideaway, he told her everything.

C
HAPTER
32

S
helby had once heard that the true test of a relationship is seeing how two people can navigate through the storms that rise up over the course of their lives. She and Ryan had been through physical storms on Lake Superior, familial storms that ripped apart relationships and took time and patience to rebuild, and, of course, the emotional storm of losing a child. Ultimately, they found a way to survive.

“We're going to get hurt; we'll feel lost from time to time,” Ryan told her during that night they shared in the ice caves. “But through it all, you have to promise me that you'll come to me first. I will always be here for you.”

“And I'll do the same for you, no matter what happens.”

He had opened his arms to her, and she welcomed his embrace, for there wasn't another place she'd rather be.

“So, where do we go from here?”

“Home?”

“Chicago or Bayfield?”

“Maybe a better balance of the two.”

“I couldn't agree more.”

Even when she stumbled Ryan had been there for her. Strong and faithful, often more sure of their marriage than she had been, Ryan was her anchor in the sand. He kept her from getting lost in the storm. True to the promise he had made to her grandfather on the ice, Ryan kept her safe and secure.

 

Life in Chicago fell into a more livable rhythm than the highs and lows they experienced during their first year of marriage. Shortly after learning the truth about Chad Covington, Ryan communicated the story with Chambers Media's publicity director, and it took less than a week to douse the media flames that surrounded Ryan and Shelby. She never knew how much she would appreciate being old news and how, when the cameras were finally turned onto someone else it would allow her to actually fall in love with Ryan's hometown and to slowly begin to feel it was her home, too.

On this weekend, they returned to Bayfield for their second anniversary and were staying in their cottage. The guilt and fear they both felt that night in the ice cave had since melted away with the ice and snow, but the memory of what they had shared would always remain.

“What do you say, Beautiful?” Ryan asked from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck in a way that sent delicious chills down her spine.

“But we need to get going, or we'll be late. . . .” Shelby closed her eyes and raised her hand to lay her palm on his cheek.

“I'm not sure what
you're
thinking of, but I was talking about heading down to the park,” he said with a playful kiss her behind her ear.

Blushing, she recovered. “Of course. I knew that.”

“Mmm,” he murmured, lowering his hands down her body and stirring her desire.

“You're teasing me again.”

“I wouldn't dare.”

She tipped her head back and turned in his arms until she found his lips; then she kissed him fully on the mouth.
Who cares if we're late?
she thought.
No one will notice. They'll start without us.

“We need to go,” Ryan said again.

“I know,” she whispered, pressing her body against his. Her hands found their way beneath his shirt and she kissed him again.

“Your family,” he reminded Shelby, kissing her back.

He was right. Shelby was sure her grandmother had worked hard all day. And Nic was planning to meet them there with Hank, as well as Shelby's mother, Chad, and others. Even John would be joining them with his new fiancée—it had taken a lot to convince Shelby's husband that she and John were never more than friends, but finally Ryan had accepted it as the truth.

Shelby reluctantly pulled away from Ryan, smiling and placing her hands out to create space between them. “You're absolutely right. We need to go. This—sadly—will have to wait.”

“That's fine with me.” Ryan seemed to regain his composure much faster than Shelby had. “I was just testing you.”

“What?”

“Just checking to make sure your pregnancy hasn't affected your libido.”

“And you expect me to believe that.”

“Come on, Shel. Like you said, we're going to be late if we don't head out right now. People are expecting us.”

 

When Ginny had offered to host a small anniversary celebration for family and friends, it was Ryan who suggested that they take it down to Memorial Park, near the marina where he and Shelby had shared their first date. It was a lazy summer evening complete with picnic blankets, beer, sandwiches, and Ginny's pies to share. Shelby and Ryan could have afforded to travel for their anniversary or host a lavish affair, but the truth was that Shelby couldn't imagine anywhere she'd rather be. And, much to her delight, neither could Ryan.

After the meal, everyone sprawled out on the lawn to pass around pieces of Ginny's pies and to enjoy the last of the day's sunlight. Ryan was lying on his side next to Shelby, with his head propped up on his elbow.

“Great day?”

“The best.”

“I have one more thing to show you,” he said with a boyish grin.

“What is it?”

He scrambled to his feet and extended his hand to help Shelby up from the lawn. “Follow me,” he said simply.

Ryan continued to hold her hand as he led her toward the shoreline, close to the spot where they had skipped rocks and talked well into the evening, just getting to know each other. Before they reached the water, Ryan stopped at a park bench that had wood slats and scrolled iron armrests.

“Let's sit down for a minute, Shel.”

She looked up at him with puzzled brows but followed his lead and sat on the bench.

“What do you think?”

“About what?” she said with a slight laugh, unsure of what he had planned.

Instead of elaborating, Ryan gave the bench seat a few taps with his open hands.

“What—this bench?” She touched the wooden seat, new and varnished a lovely cherry color, and then ran her hands along the armrests. Taking a closer look at the well-crafted armrests, Shelby realized that the swirling design depicted tree branches that twisted and braided together until they circled around a single apple in the arm support. “Ryan, did you do this?”

He stood up from the bench and offered both of his hands, leading her to the back of the bench. There, written on a small bronze plate, were the words:

 

 

When she turned to Ryan, she was speechless. Emotion had taken hold of her voice and all she could do was kiss him with trembling lips. “Thank you” simply wasn't enough to show appreciation for someone who demonstrated, time and time again, that he knew her so intimately well.

They sat down again, his arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, and she leaned into him. A breeze blew in off of the water and lifted the stray hair off of her face. The ferry was making its way to the marina, where she could see a line of cars waiting for their turn to cross Chequamegon Bay to Madeline Island. Farther out on the lake, they watched as a cluster of half a dozen sailboats caught the last of the day's winds before twilight set in. Their sails were full and bright against the steel-blue Lake Superior waters. She heard the call of a gull in the distance and children laughing as they raced through the grass behind her and Ryan.

She was home.

 

“Should we head back to the group?” Ryan asked after they had spent some time enjoying the quiet.

“You go back,” she said as they rose from the bench. “I feel like walking down to the water for a minute. I won't be long.”

“Do you want company?”

“I love you, but no. Please. You go ahead.”

He placed his hands on either side of her face and tenderly kissed her on the forehead. “Don't be long.”

Once he walked away, Shelby stepped out of her sandals and made her way down to the rocky shoreline. She carefully climbed over the boulders and round stones until she reached the water's edge. Timid, lazy waves rolled in over the smaller stones in the shallows. She heard the stones rattle as they tumbled in the cool water. Just as she reached her foot out and stepped in, Shelby felt something move deep within her body. With one foot in the lake and the other on the rocks, she paused to lay her hand protectively over her abdomen. The feeling inside was slight—no more than a butterfly flutter or the gentle pop of champagne bubbles.

Her baby's first kick.

Shelby looked out upon the lake and smiled. In her imagination, she pictured a girl. She had full cheeks and wide, brown eyes and walked in a wobbly cadence on two beautifully rounded toddler's legs. The child would peek out from behind a tree in the orchard and then try to grab the fruit that hung heavily off of low-lying branches, just out of her reach. Shelby pictured herself running up behind her daughter and snatching her up in her arms. She would swing her around in a slow circle, the orchard a whirling blur around them, and Shelby would breathe in her daughter's heavenly scent.

Standing at the lake's edge, Shelby reached down and picked up a smooth rock, flat and thin and perfect for skipping. She drew back her arm and then cast the rock across the water with a snap of her wrist. It bounced six times before sinking into the water.

“That one's for you, Charlie,” she said aloud to the lake, hoping her son could hear her voice.

She was looking down at her submerged feet, hoping to find another good rock, when another vision came to mind. This time, it was a memory of an old woman named Bernice whom Shelby had met in a quiet bar in Tamarack while on assignment with Ryan. She spotted another rock, this one a bit thicker and darker than the first. She rubbed her thumb over its smooth edge and recalled how Bernice had brought up the subject of babies.

“Bernice, I don't have a baby at home,” Shelby had said at the time, back before she was aware she had been pregnant.

“Just because he isn't in your arms doesn't mean he isn't here.”

Shelby recalled how the quirky woman had gone on to share a poem by Louisa May Alcott. “ ‘As the tranquil evening moon looks/On that restless sea,/So a mother's gentle face,/Little child, is watching thee,'” Bernice had recited.

“That's lovely, but I'm not sure what that has to do with—”

“Those words were written over a century ago, and yet, on this day, they are perfect for you.”

“I don't understand.”

“You are drawn to the lake like a child to her mother. Your Mother Moon is always there for you. She shines down upon you on Lake Superior's waters. She takes care of those you love, while you live your life grieving. While you live your life afraid.”

Shelby had been taken aback by the woman's assertion. “I'm not afraid.”

“She will be there when your first child is born,” Bernie continued. “When you need her, she'll be waiting for you at the lake. When you need answers, go to her.”

Shelby threw the second stone into the water, but it caught a wave and fell into the water quickly with a
plunk.
She turned away from the water and watched as Ryan helped Chad load up an orange cooler. Ryan looked up just then and offered her a smile and a wave. Everything was going to be all right.
We're going to make it,
she told herself, and she believed it.

Shelby resumed her search for the perfect rock. As she took a step deeper into the water, she felt something wide and smooth underfoot. This time, instead of a skipper, it was a piece of lavender sea glass partially hidden in the sand. Blue and green sea glass was common, and brown even more so. Lavender was a rare find, and to discover it was a joy. She picked it up and turned it back and forth in her hands, feeling how smooth its frosted surface had become after spending years in Lake Superior, tumbling in the sand. Lifting it up to the sunlight, she marveled at its color. It was perfect. In fact, she was certain it was the loveliest piece of sea glass she had ever seen. For that reason, she wanted to give it back to the people whom she had loved and lost and whose memories she associated with this Great Lake.

Shelby kissed the glass lightly before flinging it out onto the water, watching as it skipped several times before disappearing back into the lake. She watched as delicate ripples circled away from the splash and caught sparkles of sunlight as they traveled back to her.

Then, feeling her baby's butterfly flutter a second time, Shelby knew. Instinctively, she just knew. A girl.

Their daughter would never take the place of Charlie, but she would benefit from the lesson he had taught Shelby during his brief existence. Being Charlie's mother showed Shelby just what a gift it is to love a child, in life and in spirit. Shelby was confident that she would love her second child unconditionally. She would take her here, to the lake, and sit on the park bench on a snowy morning with warm mittens and a thermos of cocoa. She would teach her daughter about the history of Lake Superior and offer assurance that it would always be there for her—just as Shelby's grandfather had promised her when she was young.

On the day of their baby's birth, she and Ryan would hold their baby close to their hearts. Together, they would name her Lily, kiss her sweet lips, and welcome her into to the world.