with black hair.”
“Come on,” Puppa said, grabbing my hand and practically skipping out the door with me. “We did enough damage for one day.”
24
Safe in the truck, Puppa and I shared a laugh attack bordering on hysterics. Brad. I was so happy to see him again-even kissed him-but at the same time, so devastated at his condition.
Puppa wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “Good grief. I haven’t had this much fun since… well, since last time you were here. You sure know how to show a guy a good time.”
“It’s great to be back. Gosh, I missed you… and Brad.” I used the edge of my coat to dry my face.
“I tell you what,” Puppa said, shaking his head, “I could never have predicted the amazing things that have happened this year. When you turned up last February,” he gulped with emotion, “I had no idea the blessings that would be showered on our lives.”
I squeezed my eyes closed, thinking of Brad’s fate. “I think I brought only darkness.”
“You are one of those people who bring light to the darkness.”
“Please. I can’t see how stumbling into a drug ring, stumbling over a dead body, almost getting my boyfriend killed, then stumbling out of here in four months or less could be considered bringing light to the darkness.”
“It’s that journey you’re on. Somehow you allow others to see their own darkness. Once they’re aware of it, they can’t ignore it anymore. They have to embrace it, or step into the light.”
“Well, I’m no Gospel Queen if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Not at all. People see you seeking God and that gives them hope that maybe God can love them too.”
I crossed my arms and humphed. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
Puppa gave a chuckle. “Yeah, that didn’t exactly come out right.” He gripped the steering wheel with enthusiasm. “Patricia, you have no idea how those few short months changed all our lives. I thanked God every day when you were with us.” He glanced over at me. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised he brought you back from the dead. Obviously you have more good works up your sleeve.”
I snorted. “Where do you come up with this stuff? I’m totally useless as a Christian. I’ve broken every commandment and then some.”
“That kind of honesty is what makes you so priceless. You accept that God loves you just the way you are. Flaws and all.”
“Sheesh. Do I have a choice? How do you point out to your creator that he made a piece of junk? I don’t think he wants to hear that. Sounds like an insult to me. I mean, I once had a guy walk through one of my renovation projects and point out all the bumps in the drywall, as if those minor flaws somehow negated the incredible beauty of the home. I don’t even want to tell you what I did to him.”
Puppa swung his face my way, eyes bulging.
“Oh, my gosh,” I said quickly. “Nothing like that. I just gave him a piece of my mind and threw him out.”
I leaned back and looked at the passing scenery. The sun poked out from behind thick white clouds, giving the woods a dusting of diamonds as the rays hit ice on branches.
“There’s nothing like winter in the U.P.,” I said, caught up in the view.
“Too warm for you in California, was it?” Puppa asked.
“Too warm in lots of ways.”
The sun disappeared behind the clouds, returning the world to dull gray. I wondered how Celia was faring. And Portia. For a moment I wished there could be two of me.
I stared at my hands. I hadn’t brought light to Del Gloria. I’d brought darkness to that world. It would take time to get over the guilt. If Celia died, maybe I’d never get over it.
I swallowed hard and aimed my misery at a new topic. “So what am I supposed to do about Samantha and Joel in my house? I can’t see throwing them out with a baby on the way. But, come on, it’s my home.”
“Let’s keep the return of Patricia Amble under wraps awhile longer until we can weed out any threats on your life.” He gave me a look. “Now that you’re alive again, someone might actually try to kill you.”
Puppa turned toward Port Silvan. “If we could keep it quiet, the deed could be reversed, and maybe Samantha and Joel can rent it from you. They love it there. They’ve turned it into a happy home for themselves.”
I bit my lip and squelched a tear with my fist. “Yeah. They seem happy. I guess I’ll have to think about it.”
We passed the driveway. VALENTINE’S BAY LODGE, the sign said. Wish I’d have thought of turning the place into a bed-and-breakfast.
Puppa kept his focus on the road, somehow knowing I’d lost the mood for fun and games.
The truck slowed to take the curve at Cupids Creek.
“Tell me more about Brad,” I said. “He used to love life. What happened?”
“You died.”
“Then it makes sense he’ll be fine now that I’m not dead anymore.” Through hovering tears, farmhouses drifted past like ghosts.
“Let’s take it slow. I liked his reaction today. That’s the most life I’ve seen in him since the accident.”
“Yeah,” I said in a wry voice, “there’s nothing wrong with his lungs.”
“But, Patricia,” Puppa said, serious, “I’ll warn you right now. Don’t get your hopes up. If Brad decides not to pull out of this, you may have to accept that choice and move on.”
I shook my head in stubborn denial. “That’s not going to happen.”
Puppa turned down the drive to the lake house. “I hope not. I really hope not.”
That night, in the upstairs bedroom farthest from the stairs, I snuggled under a pink ruffled bedspread and tried to focus on the downward spiraling days of Edmond Dantes, now the vengeful Count of Monte Cristo. I scarcely felt sorry for him as he finagled an invitation to see his lovely Mercedes, now married to another man. But when the envious Count conjured up a despicable plot against Mercedes’ son, I slammed the book closed, going for my journal instead.
On paper, I relived the day’s events, wiping away tears as I wrote of Brad’s shattered life. Reading over the account, I became more determined than ever to be an instrument of change for Brad. He had done the same for me. He had loved me when I’d loathed myself. He’d had faith in me even though I acted untrustworthy. Now it was my turn to demonstrate unfaltering love.
I yawned. The words blurred in my sleep-deprived eyes. I set the journal on the bedside table and turned out the light. But my mind fought the solace of dreams, instead lingering in Brad’s bedroom at River’s Edge, tracing the lines of his face and revisiting the touch of his lips. I drifted to sleep, imagining I was safe in his arms.
25
I woke the next morning excited to talk strategy with Puppa and pin down our plans to revive Brad to the land of the living. I dressed in layers to combat the nippy temperature in the drafty old house, then raced downstairs for a cup of hot coffee.
The sun rose bright over the icy bay, splashing light the color of hope against the walls. Puppa took a sip of coffee. “Don’t forget what we talked about,” he said, caution in his voice. “I’ve been dealing with this situation a long time. We’ve tried everything. Brad may not be as happy as you think to find out you’re alive… and that you’ve seen him in that condition. In fact, it may just put him over the edge.”
“I know-you said that before. But that’s worst-case. He’s going to be so happy to see me. Just wait. When he realizes his physical condition doesn’t have anything to do with my love for him, he’ll work toward recovery. He’ll want to get better so we can be together.”
Puppa tapped fingers to his lips. “This isn’t some fairy tale where you kiss the prince and he magically comes back to life. It’s real. Real tragedy. Real heartache. You need to accept the fact that Brad may never recover. He may never be part of your happily ever after. I’m already sorry I brought you over there.”
