In Limbo (30 page)

              “The kids and I need closure.  I'd like to do the boat thing and do it pretty damned soon.  Get it over with.  Let's seriously talk about this weekend, guys.”

             
“I'm out,” I said.  “At the most, I could trade and do a double on Saturday and then join you on guys on Sunday.”

              “Sounds good.”  Tom squeezed my leg under the table.

              “What about the kids?”

             
“They'll be very busy!  I have spent a little time thinking about this!  You see, there's a water park complete with one of those huge slides and a wave pool and all that.  We'll take them there and run them ragged.  I will tell mine that their mother will be joining us after work.  They know that can be after dark, so it's no big deal.  They have only asked me a couple of times so far where Marty is, and I told them she is at some seminar.  They're cool with that.  Your kid will be
there and, with Chris joining us the next morning, it will all seem very normal.  What do you think?”

             
I nodded in agreement, the plan sounded good.

              Tom, my reborn smoker, lit a cigarette.  “Are you going to make the boat arrangements or do you want me to?”

             
“I can do it, I have lots of down time at the moment, and it will help me get through this week.  Thanks for the offer.”

              “So we'll reconnect by Thursday evening and confirm everything?”

             
“Sounds fine.  Hey, would you mind if I call Ginny and ask if she and the Doc would like
to join us?”

             
“Great idea,” I said.  I liked Ginny and had hoped we would maintain contact with her.  “But, just in case, mind you, let's not go into details on the phone, okay?”

CHAPTER 4
3

              The week flew by.  It seemed that either Allen or Tom had a ball game every evening, and I had work.  Sam, Tom and I decided not to go to the funeral for Ralph and Sandy.  We wanted to, but after some hard thinking we had to admit that we were worried about being identified and decided it would be better to stay away and not be connected with them.

              Neither Ralph's or Sandy's families had ever met any of us, and staying away was easy.  Ginny did go to the graveside service.  She admitted being nosy and promised to tell us all about it, but I was not looking forward to that conversation!

              I had to do some serious sucking up to get back on my nurse manager’s good side.  By managing to work an extra nightshift and rearranging my schedule for next week, I managed to
get scheduled to work seven a.m. to seven p.m. Saturday.  That put me back on my boss's good side and worked out well for all of us as it would get me down to the lake by eight p.m.

              As we had planned, Tom and Sam and Ginny spent pretty much of the day with the kids at the water park.  They stuffed them full of junk food and kept them running until the adults finally ran out of energy.  I reconnected with them on the pontoon boat Sam had rented for the weekend.  By the time I got there it was almost nine p.m. and the kids were cleaned up and ready for bed.  All three greeted me with hugs.  Sam's little girl told me that her mommy would be there pretty quick too, that she had to go to a special class to learn how to make people pretty.  It tore me up to hear that, and I had to remind myself that there was nothing I could do to change what had happened to Marty. 

             
We motored out toward the center of the big lake and got away from the parties at the shore.  Close to midnight, we stopped the engine and sat on the deck, drinking wine coolers and
looking at the stars.  Had it only been one week since the river?  I found that hard to believe.  It seemed like a bad dream from a different life.  I saw a shooting star and closed my eyes and wished for Marty to come out of the cabin and whine.  She didn't.  We were on our second wine-cooler when Ginny finally told us about the funeral.

              “It was a simple service.  Nothing fancy, just family and friends gathered at the graveside.  The minister said very little.  I got the impression that the two families did not get along very well.  Makes me wonder how the kids will do growing up.  Right now they are with Sandy's sister.  I heard they will stay with her during the school year, because that keeps them from having to change schools.”

              “Did anybody ask you who you are?”

             
“Yes, as a matter of fact I was asked that.  And Chris, you will not believe who asked.”

              “Who?”

              “Remember when we went to the hospital in Holsum to get your Blazer?  The janitor who came out of the ICU, the one with all the gold and expensive cologne?”

             
I couldn't remember.

              “Come on,” said Ginny, “surely you didn't forget so soon?  Good looking fella, early thirties.  Wore hospital scrubs with some serious gold on him.  I mean bracelet, necklace and that cologne!  I still can't remember the name, but it's a three-digit price tag.”

              I seemed to vaguely remember something about a janitor, but nothing solid.  Ginny gave
up on me.  

             
“Well, anyway, guys, you will not believe it, but he was at the funeral.  Dressed up, in a nice dark suit.  Nice, tasteful, understated and expensive!  I have never encountered a janitor with that kinda taste and the wallet to support it!  He's the one who asked me if I was family or friend?  Acted as if he belonged to the family.  Even offered me a seat with the family.  But he was dressed too classy to fit in with either family.  I told him I was just a co-worker of Sandy's and was paying my respects, and didn't need special seating.  I didn't stay long after that.”

              “Where do you think he fits in?  Army?”

             
“No, definitely not.  I really don't know where he belongs.  It took me a while to place him. He has this really ordinary face.  You can look at him all day long and not remember what he looks like.  If it hadn't been for that cologne, I would never have made the connection.  I think its Halston.”

              “Halston? What is Halston?”

              “The cologne, men's perfume whatever.  I think its Halston, don't know if it's really a three-digit price tag.”

             
I didn't care about Halston, or whatever perfume the janitor wore, but I cared that someone who had seen Ginny and me at the hospital in Holsum had shown up at the funeral.

              “Did he only ask you, or did he also ask others who they were?”

              “I saw him ask several people.  Interestingly enough, he only asked people in our age
group.  Whoever he was, he was fishing for information.  I doubt he got anything.  Actually, I don't think he recognized me.  The day we went to the hospital, I was still in my old grubby farm clothes and I had my hair all up in a ponytail.  I got dressed up for the funeral.  Gotta do that every once in a while, or sometimes I don't recognize myself when I look in a mirror.”

              I wasn't really listening.  I couldn't.  The wine, the stars and the slow rocking motion of the boat started to make me feel sleepy.  I must have dozed off, because all off a sudden I heard Tom softly calling my name over and over.  I opened my eyes and he smiled at me.

             
“Been a long day for you, hasn't it sweetheart.  Come let's go to bed.”

             
I gladly let him lead me to our bed for the night.  Morning would come soon enough.

                                                
Chapter  44 

              I awoke to the delicious scent of fresh coffee.  The sun was peeking into the cabin, and I had to admit that I felt great. Then I remembered that this is the day Sam would have to report Marty missing.  It would be very important that our stories were straight.  I didn't have time to contemplate that, though. 

             
When I went after my cup of coffee, Sam was talking to two Water Patrol officers. Their boat was tied up at our side.  We were a lot closer to the shore than I remembered, and I certainly didn't wake up when they arrived.  

              Sam seemed genuinely upset, he was pale and he was pacing.

             
“What's going on?”  I asked of no one in particular.  Sam turned to me.

              “Marty is missing.  She went swimming last night, and I fell asleep in one of

those lounge chairs.  When I woke up, she was nowhere to be found.  I went in the water

looking for her, and found nothing!  So I radioed the Water Patrol.”

             
I didn't know what to say.  I just sat down and held on to my cup of coffee.  Slowly, one at a time, the kids appeared and Ginny joined us.  The kids were impressed by the officers' uniforms, and the boys were quick to point out the pistol each officer carried. I pulled the kids away from Sam and herded them back into the cabin for breakfast . Let Sam tell his kids what's going on, I thought.  Finally the officers left.  After making sure each kid wore a life jacket, I turned them loose in the water in front of all the adults and joined the group for my second cup of coffee.

             
“So far so good.” 

              Sam looked tense and pale and uncomfortable.

              “You heard what I told them.  They said they will alert the other boats on the lake and the other officials, and get a search party going in the area where we last saw Marty. They asked us to stay in the vicinity and to check in with their station before we headed home. They will search the lake, and they said they pretty much know where a body will drift to in these waters. 

              “They were concerned because the spillways were open for a while last night.  The body could have ended up in the river below the dam and then she may never be found.  Anyway, they
will be searching for her.  I've already told them we would be leaving here by noon today.”

              “Daddy, where is Mommy?” 

              Sam's little girl had climbed back on board.

              “I wanna show her how I swim.”

             
Sam pulled little Samantha closer and held her tightly.  With tears running down his face he whispered.  “Mommy went swimming last night and didn't come back.”

              “Mommy drownded?”

             
His voice failed him and he just hugged her closely, rocking back and forth.  Samantha is such a little doll, and definitely a Daddy's girl.  She has Sam's coloring and personality.  I haven't made up my mind yet about her brother.

             
“You're squashing me.”

              “I'm sorry, baby.”

              “Daddy, are you crying?”

              “Yes, baby, Daddy is very upset.”

             
“It'll be okay, Daddy. Mommy, will be right back, you'll see.”  Samantha put her arms around Sam's neck, hugging him as only Daddy's little girl could.

              I felt myself choking and turned away, not wanting to add to the confusion of the children.  Allen stood in the background watching.  I went to him and held him to me. He may think he's a man, but to me he will always be my baby.  No one spoke for quite some time.  What was there to say in a situation such as ours?  The adults knew what was really happening, and that did not lessen our grief.

             
We quietly packed up our belongings and returned to the marina.  To our surprise, we were bombarded by reporters and others who had heard the missing persons report. One of the reporters asked Sam if he realized that his wife was the twenty-first drowning in the state this summer?  And I watched Sam come unglued.  He's really getting into this, I thought.

             
“No!” he said firmly.  “My wife is not a drowning, my wife is my wife. She is the mother of my children and all we know right now is that she is missing. We last saw her swimming. For all we know, she may be in some remote cove, trying to find a phone to call someone, to tell us she is all right. I will believe that my wife drowned when we find her body. And then she will be my dead wife.  She will never be just a drowning.”

             
That was the last sentence I heard out of Sam to any reporter.  He just did not answer any further questions. We drove home in separate groups.  I took all the children in my car, so that Tom and Sam and Ginny could talk. I'm glad I did.  The kids were wonderful.  They talked about what happens when people die, and they turned an absolutely tragic moment into something magical. I hope they will keep this magic with them.

             
At Sam's house, we separated once more.  Ginny picked up her truck and left.  We stayed with Sam for a while longer.  He needed the help.  The kids needed to get settled in, and he had to make calls to Marty's family.  It was a long evening.

             
After actively searching the lake, the spillway, and sections down river for two days, the Water Patrol notified Sam that they were ending their search.  Notices were posted all over the area encouraging the public to be on the look-out for Marty's body.  After two more weeks without any results, Sam contacted an attorney and had Marty declared dead.

              Almost a month to the day after our ill-fated canoe trip Sam was finally able to bury Marty.  The memorial service was typical Sam: Brief, simple and understated.  It's intent was solely to bring closure to a chapter of Sam's life. 

             
Then we drove out to Ginny's, we let the kids run and play with her assorted animals.  While they were busy chasing chickens and little goats, we visited Ginny's garden.  Here, underneath the apple and peach trees, the air scented by flowers, we scattered the meager, powdery remains of Marty.  The bees buzzed around us as if in homage.  Ginny had set an old garden bench under a twisted and bent old apple tree.  There where we left Sam to his thoughts. 

              I don't know who wore out first, the kids or the goats.  When the kids finally retreated to
the shade of the covered front porch, we had cold drinks and cookies waiting for them.  And we did not make them wash up.  Even Doc Humphrey dropped by, and Sam rejoined the group, smiling and appearing happier then I had seen in a while.

              When the kids returned to their games, we were able to talk openly and to our relief learned that no one had come around asking questions. Aside from the one little article in Doc's paper, nothing had appeared in the local press. 

             
Ginny said she had driven past the mysterious corporate retreat quite frequently, but noticed no unusual activity. 

              “You might consider the total lack of activity unusual.”  She had said.

                                                              *

             
The dog days of August came, and with them the activities that lead into the new school year.  Tom had to prepare for his lessons, and I was busy coping with Allen's most recent growth spurt. Sam had taken the kids to Marty's parents for a few weeks and used their absence to do some remodeling on the house. He was still undecided if he should keep it or sell it. It was really hard for him to deal with the memories.  In the end, the kids made up his mind for him. When he asked, they told him that this was home and this was where all their memories of Mommy were.  Sam also spent a lot of time in Ginny's garden.  I began to wonder if he went there to visit Marty or if he went there to be with Ginny. Whatever the reason, it was a positive note in Sam's life, and the children thrived with each visit. 

             
We all met once more for Labor Day at Ginny's.  The guys cooked on the BBQ, and Ginny and I sat in the shade of the covered front porch watching Samantha chase chickens. One of the many dogs around Ginny's place had a litter of puppies. I don't know who found whom
first, but when puppies and kids connected, the laughter did not stop. 

              The new school year brought an end to our summer frolic.  Sam called weekly with progress reports of the kids, and every call also had news of Ginny.  I recognized a

romance in the making, but Tom thought I was being too much of a romantic. 

             
“Sam's just after Ginny's body” he'd say. “He’s a man, we are simple. Romance? Naw, just simple lust, babe, lust!” 

              Whatever it was, there were sparks, and I liked it.  Ginny was good for Sam and for the kids.  They are so incredibly compatible.  With October came cooler temperatures and nature's changing colors.  The guys were planning for deer season, and this would be the year Allen would get to go and shoot.

             
I suppose that's sort of a rite of passage.  It's okay.  I love being outdoors too, but I want to be at home in my nice warm bed over night.

              One rainy Friday evening, while the kids watched spooky movies and we played cards, Sam quietly asked us what we thought the proper time of mourning for him would be?  Needless to say, that question raised at least my eyebrows. Tom, of course, never batted an eye.

             
“Depends,” was all he said.  Me, I just asked Sam what he had on his mind?  And he shared with us that his relationship with Ginny had really blossomed into something very special and wonderful. That the kids just loved her, that he was tired of being alone.  He had been thinking about asking her to marry him.

              “So, what are you waiting for?” asked Tom, the great communicator.  Me, I just cried, I
felt so happy for Sam. Our acceptance opened the floodgates and he talked almost nonstop all evening long. I had not seen Sam this animated since that ill-fated canoe trip in the summer.  He planned a whole weekend around the big question, right there in our kitchen, and I must say I felt like cupid helping him plot. 

             
Of course, I did not agree with his choice of weekends.  Why would you plan a romantic weekend and propose marriage on Halloween weekend?  His only reason was not one of romance, but one of convenience.  The kids would be spending the weekend from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon at Marty's parents.  He could devote his time 100 % to Ginny. 

              There is no arguing with that kind of logic.