“Oh,” hereplied, the disappointment radiating from him. “That’s… I guessthat’s fair. It’s not like we were together.” He seemed to becollecting his thoughts and feelings about the breaking news.Surprisingly, I worried that it would drive him away. I actuallydidn’t want John to leave. Not yet, anyway. Not until I figured outmy feelings. “What do you need?” he asked.
“Need?”
John took myhand. “Yes, what do you need? What do you want? Should I go back toAlberta? Because I will if thatwould make you happy. Or should I stay? D-do you want me to helpraise that baby?” His own words seemed to overwhelm him, but hestill smiled in determination.
“Oh, God, no.John, I could never ask you to do that,” I told him.
“Then ask mesomething, for the lov’a God,” hereplied in desperation. “I feel useless here. Give me something todo other than pacing the floors,listening if you’re okay.”
My heart achedfor him. I wasn’t sure what I could promise John for a future.Heck, even a present. I could only live a minute from minute as I faced my new reality that Henrywas gone forever. I’d never get back to the people I loved sodearly. But I had a responsibility to the life inside of me.Hesitantly, I pulled John’s hand toward me.
“Just lay withme?” I asked and scooted over to make room for him. He didn’t thinktwice as he moved and lay down next to me in my sunlit bedroom. Hisarm came up to hold me in a gentle, respectful embrace and we soonfell asleep to the soothing sounds of our own breathing.
***
The next day Iawoke with a sliver of purpose. I had decided that if I were totruly put the past to rest, I had to get rid of everything. Themuseum still waited for most of Mom’s belongings and collections,so I already had a home for a lot of it. I spent the day packingand cleaning and labeling. It hurt a little, to see Mom’s office soempty. But I told myself that I was making room for a newbeginning. It was now my office, to use it as I saw fit. Maybe I’dtake over the bakery after all. Or maybe I’d sell it and use themoney to open a small restaurant.
It had been afew days now since I checked out of the hospital in St. John’s andthe stitches in my shoulder were healing nicely. I removed the olddressing and cleaned the wound before attaching a new, fresh one.The sky was turning pink as the sun prepared to set and I carriedone last box out to the dining room. This was a special box, one Ihad set aside to store my own personal things in. Maria’s jacket,Henry’s necklace, my clothing from Nathaniel, most of the items I’dfirst discovered in that fateful chest, and some other smalltrinkets that I couldn’t part with but also knew had to be put outof sight.
Like Mom’sjournal.
I stood at thedining room table, the same way I did on that momentous night and stared out at the vast ocean as I stacked everything neatly insidethe box. Mom’s journal was the last to go, it sat on the table nextto the box. I scooped it up, rubbing my fingers over the sun andmoon on the cover once again and, for the last time, recalled thenew memories I now had of my mother. She had been a bright light inmy life, and I felt closer to her now because I knew her secret.The secret we now both shared. I brushed a hand across my belly andsmiled.
“Don’t worry,little one,” I spoke quietly, “I’ll be the best mom I can be. Ipromise to tell you stories of adventure and magic. How the oceancan grant wishes–”
Suddenly, as Ilooked at the journal once again, my blood ran hot with an idea. Arealization. Frantically, I searched for the entry, the day of mybirth. I spread the book out on the table when I reached the pageand read it again. Mom had been interrupted, probably because shehad gone into labor with me. But what if it were something elseentirely? In her next entry, I’m born, and she admits that she’dfound the way back. So, what happened between those twoentries?
I flipped tothe cover again, noting the hand burned sun and moon, and then castmy gaze out to the colorful ocean that waited just outside my door.Then, out of nowhere, Mom’s voice came to life in my ears.
“If youwere to sail out there, to the water, and meet the moon and the sunin the waves at just the right time, they’d grant you awish.”
My breathingquickened past the point of control as the lightbulb exploded in mybrain. That was it. That was the answer I’d been searching for. Momdid find a way back. And, in a way, she did documentit. She told me that fable and then burned the symbols into herjournal. I recalled the entry when Mom must have found it, how shenoted standing in her new office, staring out at the water. It had to be it.
I had all ofmy belongings right there in a box in front of me. John was goneinto town to pick up supper. The sun and moon were reflecting onthe ocean’s waves. The timing was perfect. As if the universe aligned to show me the way. Ibolted for the kitchen to grab a pen and paper, feverishly jottingdown some parting words to leave behind.
John andMary,
Thank you foreverything. Really. I don’t know what I would have done withoutboth of you in my life. John, I want you to know that I really doforgive you. You’re an amazing man, friend, and partner. If thingswere different, I have no doubt in my mind that we’d be together.But, I want you to find someone who will make you happy. Thank youfor being here and helping me heal.
Mary, you havealways been the shining light in my life post-Mom. You turned meinto the woman I am today. Thank you for everything. Take care ofthe house and tell
