The Weight of Love (14 page)

32

ELDER
WORTHEN

Elder Hales and I are on our own for dinner. I’m actually relieved. All the families we’ve eaten with around here served fish. It’s not that I don’t like fish, I do, but it’s getting old. I lean back in the booth waiting for my cheeseburger. We’re in one of two restaurants open this time of year. There’s one grocery store and two gas stations, and a couple of hotels. One of which closes down in the winter. Aside from the massive amounts of docks and fishing boats, that’s the town.

Everyone tells me that Dillingham
really fills up in the summer, but it seems like we see the same few people everywhere we go.

A couple fishermen come in. They’re easy to spot.
Warm hats, orange waterproof overalls and toughies—the rubber boots that everyone out here seems to have.

“…
lost two guys last night,” one of them says.

I tune into their conversation.

“Lance’s boat?” the man next to him asks.

“Yeah
, but Lance made it. Both guys they lost were young. One of them had a family and everything.”

“Man, that sucks.”

They pass our table and my chest sinks. Two guys lost. It’ll be all everyone talks about around here for a while. Apparently they lose a guy or two every year, almost everyone here knows someone who was on the boat that went down last fall with the whole crew. It’s part of life here.

“Hey.” My partner’s voice is meant to catch their attention. “Who were the two guys?”

“David Malcolm and Robert Lingstrom.”

Lingstrom
. My chest sinks. I know that name. My eyes catch with Hales’.

“Kimberly
Lingstrom’s husband,” he whispers. He raises his voice to them. “Thanks.”

The guys nod and continue to the counter to make their order.

Kimberly just lost her husband. They have two little boys who will grow up without their dad. Breathing hurts at the thought of it. The reality of it. Then Jaycee hits that same raw spot and suddenly I don’t feel the loss for Kimberly like I should; I feel it for Jaycee. What she went through hits me on a level that makes it all seem more real and less like a memory. Someone came to her house to tell her that she’d never see her husband again. In those brief seconds her life changed forever.

What would it do to me if someone had to tell me that Jaycee was gone? My stomach squeezes tight.

Our dinner is set in front of us, but I can’t eat. This sucks.

- - -

The mood at church is heavy. Kimberly isn’t there. We hear news that she’s not doing well. I want to help, but she has good home teachers and her family’s in from Anchorage. She’ll be leaving soon to live with them for a while.

Jaycee stayed in the same house.
Has been in the same house. How hard was it for her to leave that place?

After our day,
I lie in my bed, in the near silence and in the dark. Our Sabbath was exhausting—more for me than Hales. The tiredness comes from my brain not my body.

Jaycee had the Allen
’s and her sister. That’s it. No wonder they asked her to talk at Zone conference. She
needed
the missionaries. This is my reminder, right? That this is all really important. What I’m doing. I really need to keep my mind on that, because the other thing this news makes me feel is how desperately I want to have my arms around her. I think about our brief moment in her living room, how good she felt, how so much of my body screamed as I walked away. I wanted to look back at her as I walked out. But I knew if I did, I wouldn’t have left if her eyes looked at me with any of the same feelings her arms held.

I close my eyes
and even though I know I shouldn’t, I imagine what it would be like to lie next to her. Our shoulders would touch and our fingers would slide together. The warmth of her would hit me. Maybe we’d fall asleep all tangled up together, the way that girls have always wanted to do, and the way I haven’t wanted to do until now.

In the morning her eyes would open and she’d smile at me. Our lips would meet and no one would care ab
out morning breath because we couldn’t wait. We’d need each other too much. I can almost feel her fingers in my hair, her breath on my neck, her legs, pulling me closer.

Okay. Breathe.
Go to sleep, before you make yourself crazy.

33

JAYCEE

Living in this house is going to make me completely insane. I’m sure of it.
There aren’t enough bedrooms. There are three teenagers, Tom’s parents, Tom and Kyla, Bridger and me.

“Your turn for the bathroom, Jaycee!” Kyla hollers down the hall.

“Can you keep an eye on Bridger?” I ask. He’s still completely retreated inside himself. He’ll talk to me, Tom and Kyla. He ignores everyone else. His issues with noises and people are just amplified with all the new sounds, smells, location… Everything.

“
Lemme get dressed,” she calls back.

I grab my shampoo and clothes and wait for Kyla to come into the small den where Bridger and I are camped out. He won’t look at me, won’t look at Kyla and keeps begging to go somewhere quiet.

“Can our adventure be over,
now
?” he asks. It’s becoming a daily question.

“I’m sorry, Bridge, hopefully just a little longer here, okay?”
I reach out to rub his back, but he doesn’t like it. I know comforting him would comfort me, but Bridger and I take two very different kinds of comfort. He wants quiet. I want to hold or be held.

“Okay.” He’s on the floor with his small Nintendo on his lap.

It’s not okay. Something has to change soon. I’m afraid to send Bridger to school when he doesn’t have somewhere calm to be at the end of the school day. I’m still not sure what to do.

“Okay.” Kyla’s breathless and her wet hair hangs around her face. “It’s all yours, but I’d hurry, Tom’s little sister has a date this afternoon.”

I jump up. Once Tom’s sister gets in there, the bathroom will be occupied for a while. I slide in quickly and lock the door behind me. I have a few minutes of peace. In a cramped bathroom. Right now it feels like heaven.

~
~ ~

Bridger and I stand
at Lynn Tate’s door. Elder Worthen’s home. It’s a beautiful small house, just off of Highland Drive, all red brick with white trim and black iron railings. I love this part of town.
Sugarhouse
, Kyla said,
where all the quirky people live.

I take another deep breath before knocking on the door.

“Do you remember where we are?” I ask Bridger.

“Elder
Worthen’s house. But he isn’t here, he’s still in Alaska.”

I smile. “Good job, that’s right.”
He’s still in Alaska, so far away, but at the same time, standing on his doorstep makes me feel closer to him than I have aside from my blessing and our brief hug.

The door opens
to a very handsome young man. He’s younger than Worthen, and not as tall or broad, but definitely his brother. They have a similiar build and the same unruly, dark hair.

“Hello?”

“I’m Jaycee, a friend of your brother’s?” Was he told I’m coming?

His eyes meet mine
, but only briefly before looking down. The same blue as his brother. He smiles ever so briefly before backing up a step. “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” I step through the open door and take a
deep breath. The wood floors are honey-colored and beautifully worn. The iron railings are inside, too, on a narrow stairway to my left. The walls aren’t beige, there’s too much yellow, but everything feels light, warm and soft.

“O
nly my brother would find a girl as pretty as you while on his mission.” Gage chuckles.

M
y cheeks warm.

“Sorry.” He shakes his head. “That was probably rude.”

“I thought it was sweet.” I’m watching Gage more closely than I should. I’ve been told by both Elder Worthen and his mom, Lynn, that Bridger and Gage sound a lot alike. Right now I see Gage as Bridger’s future self. Or something similar.

“Can we stay here for a while?” Bridger asks.
His warm brown eyes meet mine solidly for the first time in a while.

I start to nod.

“I’m Gage.” Worthen’s brother reaches out his hand.

“I’m Jaycee, and this is Bridger.”
I take his hand briefly.

“Course you can stay for a while, Bridger. Maybe you could help me with something.”
Gage turns and walks up the hallway.

“Okay.” Bridger follows Gage without a second thought or worry.
I’m amazed. He’s been afraid to leave my side since we got here.

I slide off my shoes, unsure of what I should do.
I don’t see anyone else, and they’ve both disappeared around the corner. Guess it’s okay to follow them.

“I’m working
on a puzzle.” Gage’s eyes flit to mine just briefly before wandering back to the table. There’s a half complete puzzle, but instead of doing the outer edge first, he’s started at the bottom and is working his way up.

Bridger sits, picks up a few pieces and starts putting them together.
He likes having things that keep his hands busy. The more I learn about him, the more I think it has to do with him liking being alone. When people see that he’s busy, they leave him alone. Or maybe it’s that his brain always needs something to sort out.

We’re in what looks like their family
room. No TV though, just a couple of computers and Gage’s huge puzzle.

“I’m so sorry,” a woman’s voice
rings from behind me. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

I spin around.
She’s just like I pictured. Tall, same striking eyes as her sons and beautiful grey hair, tied up into a neat bun.

“Jaycee.”
She smiles widely. “You are even more gorgeous in person.”

I’m immediately embarrassed.
“Thank you.”

She steps right up to me and pulls me into the kindest, warmest hug.
She feels good, like family. Like another small piece of home. Her arms stay around me a little longer than normal, but it’s nice, like she wants to be here and wants me to be here, too.

“Mitchell said it’s been a little chaotic since you got here.”

“What?” Mitchell? M Worthen.
Mitchell
. I smile wide. I
did
guess right, on one of them, anyway.

“Oops, I think that’s one of those things he’s been really strict on.”
Her eyes widen and she chuckles, almost like she’s making fun.

“I won’t let on,” I tell her.
I’m thrilled to have his name. Like he is actually more than a missionary—more than someone forever young, in a suit and nametag. Mitchell. Mitchell.

“Well, it looks like our two boys have met.” She chuckles again and I have to smile with her.

Neither boys are saying anything. They’re working completely independent of one another, but are sitting in chairs that are close. A sign to both of us that they’re enjoying the other’s company.

“Try this one.” Gage hands Bridger a small red piece that Bridger takes and slides into a
spot in front of him.

“Thanks.” Bridger barely mumbles it out before he’s back to work
on his own.

“Come on.” Lynn
puts an arm over my shoulder and leads me to her kitchen.

I
look behind me one more time as we go.

“I promise Gage will watch ou
t for him. He loves kids. I really hope he’ll find someone. I think it would be devastating to him to not have his own children.” She lets go of me next to a set of stools at her counter.

“Thank you for being so honest.”
Most people try to tell me that Bridger will be just fine. That his life will be normal. And it won’t. Well, it won’t be my definition of normal—it’ll be his. And all I want for him is to find something that really makes him happy, for him to be okay with the idea that he does and always will see the world a little differently than most of us. I want him to see it as a gift, not something to pull him down. I have no idea how to do this.

I sit in one
of the stools already more at home here than I’ve felt since arriving in Utah. I slowly draw in a nice, deep breath and my shoulders rest down. They ache as they fall and I know it’s probably been a long time since I truly let myself relax. No wonder Bridger’s been so on edge.

She pulls two glasses from a cupboard and begins to fill them with water
from the fridge. “Well, it doesn’t really do anyone any good to pretend that their life will be like the rest of us. But we all have things we have to deal with and work through. We’ll just have a harder time relating to what
they’re
dealing with and working through.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

She sits next to me. “But I also have to honestly say that I’d have a hard time relating to what you’ve been through.”

And with anyone else who I just met, I’d feel like this was too personal, but it isn’t, not from her. I take a sip of my water.

“Well, a lot of people do it.” I’m not the only girl who’s lost a husband in a war. It just usually
feels
like I’m the only girl who loved like I did and lost. But I guess we should all feel like the person we love is loved more than anyone else.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that you stopped in.” She rests her arms on the counter.
“It feels good to see you in person. So much better than talking on the phone.”

“Me, too. The house we’re staying in is a bit insane.”
I shake my head.

“You’re probably wondering what you’re doing down here.”

“I am.” I nod. “Everything feels so…out of place. Not together. Does that make sense?”

“
Yes, it does.”

“
And even though it’s chaotic, it feels like I did the right thing and that I need to have patience.” I don’t mean to, but I laugh.

“Well,
that’s a bit frustrating, isn’t it?” She rubs my back a few times, just like Sharon always did. “Guess that means you just keep on doing what you do, and things will work out.”

“It’s really hard for someone like me, to be so passive in…”
but I’m not sure how to continue my thought.

“In your future,
” she finishes.

“Yes.” I nod. “I’ve always moved forward, worked hard to make things better. Joining the church, being with Matt, making the best of him being gone, of helping Bridger.
Everything. I’ve taken care of…everything.”

“
Maybe without knowing it, you’re preparing to let someone else help you take care of everything.” She takes a drink and checks behind us at the boys again.

“I guess
. I don’t know.” I finger the cold glass of water in front of me. “That’s not why I’m here, I mean. That’s not why I moved.” What am I trying to say, that I’m not chasing your son? Even though I kind of am. Or that I’m not looking for anyone? Because I’m not. I definitely didn’t come here for that. Until he comes home. Guess Mitchell could be part of why I moved. Is that okay?

“You moved because you felt like you should, and now you’re still following that
idea even though you have no idea where it will lead,” she says.

“I guess that’s exactly right.”
She gets it, she understands, and she isn’t looking at me like I’m crazy. She also makes the whole thing a lot simpler than I had.

“That’s very brave of you,
” her eyes look through me like her son’s do, only I don’t have to feel guilty about enjoying her, the way I did with him.

I turn my head to look at her more closely.
“It doesn’t feel brave. It feels like…like I’m just wandering and Bridger needs more than that.”

“Well, why don’t you and
I sit down and find a school for him? Gage loved his, and it lasted him through elementary and high school.”

“Yeah, if you could give me the name or…”

“Well, I need to drive over there anyway. Someone just moved out of one of Mitc…
Elder Worthen’s
condos. I need to check on it, and they’re near the school. Why don’t you come? It’s not far.”

“I’m sorry. Condos?”
Plural? Mitchell has a home? More than one?

She stands up. “He had his fingers in all sorts of things before he left. I’m still amazed he left it all behind. He flipped houses, and worked in some other financial and real estate deals with an older friend of his. Everything he touched seemed to make those boys money.
He turned it all over to me, but I plan on turning it right back when he comes home.”

I don’t even have words. Who is this guy?
Mitchell. The older guy who served a mission late and owns condos, in the plural, and has one of the coolest mom’s on the planet. It makes me realize how little I actually know about him.

“Gage?” She waits.

Nothing.

“Gage, I realize you’re enjoying yourself over there, but I need an answer.” Her voice is soft, quiet, and smooth.

“What, Mom?” His voice is impatient, frustrated.

“Would you be up to showing Bridger around your old school?”