Travelers Rest (16 page)

“That’s right. I was with the 24th Infantry Regiment.”

“I did two tours in ’Nam myself. Right before the Tet Offensive, I was out on patrol when a buddy of mine stepped on a landmine. That was our ticket out. He went home in a body bag while I went home on a C-141 jet transport.”

While the two old soldiers talked, Jane slipped around the bed and leaned over Seth. “I knew your Dad was in Vietnam, but you never told me he was wounded.”

Seth’s eyes were apologetic. “I guess I never thought much about it. I mean, by the time I came around, it was ancient history.”

“Yeah, well, I remember it very well,” Jewel said. “It seemed like the end of the world to me.”

“What happened, Jewel?”

“He had to have several surgeries to remove all the shrapnel, even after he got back to the States. After one surgery he developed a blood clot, and after another he picked up an infection that just about killed him. We weren’t even engaged yet, just dating, but already I was starting to feel like a widow.”

“I never knew.”

Jewel shrugged. “He lived. And I guess it
is
ancient history now.”

Jane looked at Sid, who was talking animatedly with Truman, and then back at Seth again. “So your dad got a Purple Heart like you did.”

“Yeah, except, I think that’s backwards. I got a Purple Heart like Dad did. Only Dad . . .”

When he didn’t go on, Jewel asked, “Only Dad what, son?”

“Only Dad got better. I never will.”

Sid must have been listening with one ear, because he turned to Seth then and said, “Don’t say that, Seth. Attitude is everything. Remember?”

“Yeah, Dad, but—”

“Things won’t be exactly like they were before, but they’ll be better than they are now. That’s what we’ve got to keep hoping for.”

“That’s right, Seth,” Jane jumped in. “It’s funny, but I’ve been thinking about Laney a lot lately, and how she used to say, ‘Life’s gearshift—’”

“Well, here you are, Doc!”

All eyes turned toward the door where a tall man leaned heavily against a walker.

“Oh, hey Jimmy,” Truman said. “Are you waiting on me?”

“Larry dealt the cards a good fifteen minutes ago.”

“Sorry about that. I got sidetracked.”

The man named Jimmy looked around the room and smiled apologetically. “Sorry to interrupt, folks. We got a little worried when the doc didn’t show up on time. I just wanted to make sure he was all right.”

“Ah now, Jimmy, you know I’m always all right. I’m too stubborn to not be all right.”

“Well, you come on down whenever you’re ready.”

“I’m ready now.” He turned to Sid and held out a hand. “Pleasure. Hope to see you again.”

Sid pumped his hand. “We’re here every weekend.”

“Mrs. Ballantine”—Truman smiled at Jewel—“you take care.”

“You too, Doctor. And thanks again for helping out with Seth.”

“Glad to help. Jane, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Truman. No cheating at the card game.”

“A gentleman never cheats. ’Course, there might be those who’d say I’m not a gentleman.” He was chuckling to himself as he left the room.

“Interesting fellow,” Sid said. “I’m glad we got to meet him.”

“I really would like to take him home with us,” Jewel said.

“Not much chance of that happening, Mom.” Seth looked up at her and smiled. “They need him around here too much to let him go.”

“I suppose . . .” Jewel said with a sigh.

“Don’t worry, Jewel,” Jane said. “I’ll be around to help you too, you know, once you get Seth home.”

Jewel nodded, but she was frowning at the same time, as though she didn’t quite believe it. After a moment, she perked up and said, “What were you saying about Laney, dear?”

“Oh.” Jane cocked her head. “I was just thinking of how she always used to say that life’s gearshift’s got no reverse, so all we can do is keep moving forward.”

“Well, she got that right,” Jewel said. “I think I remember her. She was married to Clapper Jackson, wasn’t she?”

“Yes. She worked for Gram for several years.”

“That’s right. I do remember. She made a cranberry delight that your grandmother served during the Christmas open house every year.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised you remember.”

“She was the sweetest woman. Had a smile that could light up New York. You remember her, Sid?”

Sid shrugged. “Vaguely. I do remember the cranberry delight.”

“I don’t remember her,” Seth said. “Why are we talking about her?”

“I don’t know,” Jewel said. “Jane mentioned her. Whatever happened to her, Jane?”

Jane thought a moment. “Seems like she and Clapper moved back down to South Carolina. I can’t remember exactly when she left. I guess I was around.. . . I don’t know . . . maybe thirteen or so when they moved away. I stayed in touch with her for a little while, but I wasn’t very good at writing letters, so we eventually fell out of touch.”

“Well, that’s what happens,” Jewel said philosophically. “People move in and out of our lives. People you’re close to one day are gone the next. Very few stay for the whole show.”

“I guess that’s true,” Jane said quietly.

“Now, Jewel, don’t go maudlin on us,” Sid chided.

“I’m not, Sid. Just stating the facts.”

“The important ones stay. That’s what matters.”

“Not necessarily, dear. Sometimes it’s the important ones that go. That’s the problem right there. We spend half our lives losing the people we love.”

Sid waved a hand. “Never mind. My stomach’s growling. How about we go down to the cafeteria and bring us back a snack.”

“Well, all right. Jane, honey, would you like to come along? Or can we bring you back something?”

“No thanks. I’m not hungry. I’ll stay here with Seth.”

When the older couple left, Jane sat down in the chair beside Seth’s bed. Seth looked at her, looked away. Neither had anything to say to the other. The room was quiet.

23

So what’s going on with Ted? Did he call you this weekend? Don’t keep me in the dark.

———

Nothing is going on with Ted. He hasn’t called. I can’t say I’m sorry, as it would only complicate matters, and heaven knows my life is far too complicated now as it is. What was I thinking when I gave him my number? Obviously, I wasn’t thinking; that’s the problem.

Your two rascals are doing fine, though Roscoe snapped at a bee yesterday and was promptly stung on the nose. He retreated to the house, whimpering and defeated. I tried to play nurse by holding an ice cube on his nose, but he didn’t much care for that either. He’s all better today, though, and happily snapping at bees again, so apparently he didn’t learn his lesson. Juniper is much smarter and ignores the bees, preferring to spend her time sniffing at molehills.

The pups are perfect companions for me this summer. Their joy at seeing me when I come home is just the diversion I need after spending time with Seth. Speaking of whom, I see some improvement in his spirits, but not much. Whenever he’s lost in thought, I fear what he might be thinking.

Gram called yesterday to see how everything’s going. Since I haven’t yet broken it off with Seth, I’m pretty sure things aren’t going in the direction she had hoped. I know she wants what’s best for me, but I’m the only one who can decide that.

It’s not an easy decision. If I believed in crystal balls, I might consult one. I look at the night sky and wonder if our future is written in the stars. Tea leaves, Tarot cards, palm readers . . . is there someone who can see my future and tell me what to do?

Well, never mind. I’ve decided I’m not going to ask anyone’s opinion. If my life were a democracy and the decision was up for a vote, the final tally would be however many to one. I’d be the only one voting for me to stay with Seth. Everyone else would vote against. Well, maybe Truman would vote for. Have I told you about Truman? He lives at the VA community home, and he used to be a doctor. Nice guy. We’ve become friends.

I know how you would vote, of course, Diana, and when I try to look at everything objectively, I do see how crazy it looks for me to stay. From the outside looking in, I can almost see the reasons for giving up. But I just can’t do it. Not yet.

I’m giving myself a headache thinking of all this. Suffice it to say, Ted is a non-event. I continue to stand by Seth. I think I’ve settled into a waiting mode with the hope that time will tell me what to do.

So what about you and Carl? What’s happening in Europe?

———

I can’t say I’m not disappointed about Ted. Though who knows but maybe he’ll still get in touch. It’s been only a couple of days, after all.

You know I always liked Seth. You know that, right? So my vote for you to move on does not come easily. I know this has all been devastating to you, and you have no idea how much I wish Seth had never been wounded. You two should have been able to move forward with your lives uninterrupted. But it isn’t up to me. It isn’t up to anyone, I suppose. Fate has the upper hand, and as far as we mortals go, I’m not sure we have a hand at all.

I have been traveling throughout England while Carl slaves away, though he claims to be enjoying himself. I’ve taken in the sites at Salisbury, Bath, Dover, and a delightful little town called Hemsby. I never thought I’d do this, but because so many friends and students are wanting to know about the trip, I’ve started a blog. That way I don’t have to write out the same stories dozens of times over. If you want all the grand details, here’s the link: cruisingwithcarl.blogspot.com. In two more days we move on to Florence. Heavenly!

Tell Roscoe to behave himself. No more tangling with bees. Don’t forget both dogs have an appointment to get their nails trimmed at the vet’s on the 27th. Just put it on the credit card I left there for expenses.

All for now, Jane. It’s been a long day and my eyelids are drooping.

Sending love.

Diana

24

O
n Monday afternoon, as soon as Jane entered the lobby of the medical center, she heard music rising up from the atrium. She hoped it was Jon-Paul at the piano, and when she stepped to the railing and peered over, she wasn’t disappointed.

Taking the elevator down, she moved across the room and waited for Jon-Paul to finish. Even before the last note had faded completely, she asked, “Will you play Moonlight for me?”

Jon-Paul lifted his head and smiled. “I thought that was supposed to be Misty.”

“Misty?”

“Yes. You know, the old movie,
Play Misty for Me.
”

Jane thought a moment then chuckled. “Oh yeah, I remember now. Clint Eastwood, right?”

“That’s it. But you want Moonlight. ‘Clair de Lune.’”

“Yes.”

He patted the piano bench. “Join me, and I’ll play it for you.”

Jane sat beside him and watched in wonder as he lifted his fingers to the keys and began to play. When she was a child her grandmother had insisted she take piano lessons, which she had, but the noise she banged out on the keyboard left her teacher sputtering invectives and her mother pleading for quiet. Even Gram had to acknowledge Jane’s lack of talent and, after little more than a year, Gram released the teacher and everyone else from further anguish by allowing Jane to quit. Music deserved talent, Gram said, and for that reason even Gram herself refused to play, saying it would be almost a sacrilege to subject the great masterpieces to anything less than perfection. Still, Gram and Jane both appreciated music well played, with Gram often quoting the words of the poet who, upon hearing a symphony of Beethoven, wrote, “This moment is the best the world can give; / The tranquil blossom on the tortured stem.”

Now as she sat beside Jon-Paul, listening to the comforting tones rise up, Jane’s life circled down to this one tranquil moment. She understood exactly what Edna St. Vincent Millay had known when she cried out for the music not to cease; she didn’t want to come back to the world again. She wanted to stay here, right here, where it was safe and calm. No painful years behind, no lonely years ahead. Only serenity in the shape of notes. Had the music gone on forever, she would have happily stayed and listened.

But only too soon, the song was finished. Jon-Paul’s hands found each other and, fingers laced, settled in his lap.