Rachel Van Dyken (14 page)

He looked so happy
there. The best day he’d had in a long time. It was getting late, however. As the song ended,
Mara rose
up
to help him back
to
his room.

Blaine formed a sad smile
.
“
Let me take him.
”

Without waiting for an answer
,
he scooped his father up into his arms and turned towards Mara. “Thank you
,
for making this the best Christmas
Eve
we’ve had in years.”

Mara couldn’t speak. Words failed to express what she was even feeling in that moment
.
She gulped and nodded.

****

“You love her
,
” David said
when
Blaine
set
him
in his bed.

Blaine didn’t answer.

“
I
’
m guessing I’m closer to the truth than you’d like to admit. I know you aren’t one to share your feelings
;
we’re cut from the same cloth. But son, listen to me.”

Blaine sat on his father
’
s bed.

“Son,
I can see you’re afraid to risk a broken heart. L
ove is t
o
o precious to waste. When you miss out on love
,
you miss out on life. I want you to live. My wish is for you to understand what it truly means to share your heart
and
your
soul with another person. I had that with Emily.
It’s your turn. I may be d
y
ing, but you…you get to live.”

“I
a
m afraid.” The words were out of Blaine
’
s mouth before he could stop them
.
“I’m afraid of losing those I love.”

“Son, fear keeps you from being extraordinary.
It
is the absence of truly living. You can do
anything
,
even if you have to do it afraid.”

Blaine kissed his father
’
s head
.
“I love you
,
P
op
.
I wish.
.
.
I wish
,
I—
”

“
W
e
’ve
had these moments
,
Blaine
.
I wouldn’t take them back for the world.
Don’t live your life regretting what’s past. These days are what matter.
N
ow
,
g
o on
. There
’
s a
beautiful woman
downstairs
,
wait
ing under the mistletoe.”

Blaine laughed as he got off the bed. “Alright, alright. See you in the morning.”

The morning light streamed through the curtains and danced across Blaine’s face, waking him from a peaceful dream – his first in a long time. He sat up, sliding his feet off the cot and rubbing his eyes.
It’s Christmas!
The somnolent fog dissipated instantly
.
A broad grin broke across his face. Standing, Blaine stretched contentedly and grabbed his jeans from the floor.

Since the last Christma
s Blaine had celebrated was
when he was
ten
years old, the latent childhood joy at the thought of it returned full force. It was his impulse to run
straight to the tree and start ripping open the packages, but he checked himself
before bursting through the door.

Yesterday had been the perfect day.

The fact that time with his father was running out did weigh heavily on his heart, but it made it that much more important to make the moments he did have left count. And maybe, just maybe, that was the real reason behind his impulse to rush this morning.

He tugged the wool sweater over his head and ran his fingers through his hair to smooth it down.
From
the kitchen, the sound of Mara stirring brought another smile to Blaine’s lips. Another reason to rush.

True, h
e’d known her
only
a few weeks, but already he couldn’t imagine his life without her.

After popping a peppermint candy into his mouth, he stepped out of the room. Mara was standing on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf of the cupboard. The sight of her thrilled him, and he moved to her side.

“Can I get that for you?”

S
he laughed nervously as she
dropped
back onto her heels. “Yes, please. I need that glass bowl on the right.” He reached across her
and brought it back down to her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a smile and leaned back against the counter with his arms crossed in front of him. “Merry Christmas.”

Mara had already turned to the refrigerator and was digging for something. His presence in the kitchen seemed to be flustering her, because she didn’t seem to remember what she was looking for there. Her head peered over the top of the door. “Oh, yes. Merry Christmas to you too.”

It was a little chilly in the kitchen. Blaine sauntered to the door to pull on his boots and his coat. “I’ll grab a load of firewood. It’s pretty cold in here yet.” Mara nodded at him with a smile.

When he returned, he started the fire in the wood stove and poured himself some tea.
“Pop
sure seemed to be doing well yesterday. Have you checked on him yet this morning?”

“Yes, I’ve been in. He was still sleeping, so I decided to get breakfast started.”

“I think
I’ll run up for a few minutes. Call me when you’re ready, and I’ll come help you carry stuff up.”

“Okay. It should only be five or ten minutes. Oatmeal today – a little bit of a let-down after yesterday probably, but too much of the salt and grease upsets his stomach.”

“Oatmeal sound
s
good. Something warm for such a cold morning.” He set his empty
teacup
on the table and headed toward the stairs.

****

Mara watched Blaine stride from the room. A sudden rush of melancholy spread through her. She had been a nurse for a few years now, and although this was her first in-home care assignment
– her first
deathbed
assignment – she knew many patients experienced an eleventh hour energy boost. They would seem to improve right before the end. Blaine was obviously hopeful
. She didn’t want to be the one to deflate his optimism. David was exhausted from yesterday’s activity. It didn’t look good, and two days in a row like yesterday could speed up the inevitable.

The newly reconciled relationship between father and son had fulfilled the old man’s last wish. He could die happy. There were no loose ends left to concern him, and Emily was waiting
.

A solitary tear slid down her cheek as she stirred the oatmeal. When she took this job, she hadn’t expected to become so attached to her patient. She hadn’t counted on it being so difficult to
say goodbye – and she hadn’t even considered the possibility of falling in love.

That’s what it was
now
, wasn’t it?

Mara took this job, because she had to have a way to support herself after the loss of her husband – a place to live, someone to take care of. She got far more than she bargained for. This job was nearing its end, she knew. She had lain awak
e last night thinking about it. Thinking about this place as home was a painful prospect; she knew she would have to leave. Thinking of Blaine as anything other than her patient’s
son
was much worse. The thought of losing him – she wasn’t ready to deal with that.

But she would have to… soon. She would have to take another job. He would go back to Boston. What would there be to hold him here after his father
was
gone?

Her stomach churned.
I don’t think I can deal with so much loss at once, God,
she prayed silently.
Give me strength
.

****

“Merry Christmas, Pop. How are you feeling this morning?” Blaine could tell the moment he stepped in the room that it was not going to be a day like yesterday had been. His father was pale; exhaustion resonated in the dark circles around his cloudy gray eyes.
Even so
,
the old man smiled weakly but didn’t try to speak. Perhaps an effort to conserve energy for the day.
Blaine adjusted a couple of pillows and helped his father to sit
.

“Mar – Mrs. Crawford is making oatmeal this morning. It’s pretty cold today. The oatmeal will be nice.” Ordinarily Blaine didn’t try to fill the silence with idle chatter, but for
some
reason it felt necessary now. There was a need to drown out the concerns about his father which were assailing his mind. If he was talking, he wouldn’t have to consider the probabilities.

“Yesterday sure was g
reat, eh, Pop? Just like the way it used to be with Mom. Best Christmas Eve I’ve had in years.”
He shook the cup of pills into David’s cupped hand and helped him lift the water to his lips to wash them down. Mara’s voice floated up the stairs, calling him down to help with the breakfast tray. “
Hey, that sounds like breakfast.
I’ll be right back.”

He met Mara at the bottom of the stairs and took the tray from her. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his. It seemed as though she knew something she didn’
t want him to hear, which was cause for concern
,
considering Mara had never had issues expressing her opinions or thoughts in the past. Usually she chose a much more assertive path.
His polar opposite.

“Is he awake?” she asked as they climbed up the stairs.

“Yes, but seems more tired than usual this morning. Much more than yesterday, for certain.” Her quiet sigh wasn’t lost on him. “Are you all right?”

She didn’t answer and appeared lost in thought.

“Mara?” The sound of her name brought her eyes to meet his gaze.

“Hm?”

“Are you all right? You seem –?”

“Yes. Sorry. I’m fine. Just thinking.” They reached the door, and she stepped through, pasting a cheerful grin on her face. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Graham,” she greeted him brightly. The sudden demeanor change caught Blaine by surprise.
With a careful eye, he scrutinized her. She was always mindful of her composure when she was around
him
, as if she believed her attitude could affect his life expectancy. Blaine had to give her
credit. Her smile never failed when she was with his father
,
n
o matter what she was going through outside of this room.

Blaine
set the tray across David’s lap, but he eyed it with little interest.

“Not hungry this morning, Mr. Graham?” Mara inquired, moving closer to him to check his
pulse and other vital
signs. He shook his head
feebly.
She was busy fussing over him, when he put his hand on her hand to settle her. She stopped abruptly and met his gaze. “What is it, Mr. Graham?”

He pointed a weak finger toward the dresser by the door. “Do you need something from the drawer?” she asked. He nodded, his breath ragged.

Mara opened the drawer and pulled out two small packages wrapped in brown paper
. Blaine recognized one of them as the one he had helped his
father wrap a few days earlier.
The same day
t
he
y
had visited his mother
’
s grave.
David gestured for Mara to bring them to him,
and
then struggled to sit up further in his bed. Blaine supported him as Mara adjusted his pillows.

His breaths were labored, and his voice was barely a whisper when he spoke. They both leaned in closer to hear his words.

“Mara, your gift to me was grace. I was angry and bitter and a wounded soul. You didn’t let me waste away like that. You gave me a second life. Thank you.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she continued to smile at the dying man. He held her gaze a moment in silence.

When he turned toward Blaine, a knot formed in
his
chest, threatening to squeeze all the air from his lungs. “Son,” his voice rasped. Blaine remembered how h
e had reacted to that name when he had first arrived. “Your gift to me was forgiveness. My heart’s one wish. You reached past the years of pain and took my hand in spite of all my mistakes.” With his free hand he reached out and took his son’s
left
hand in a frail grasp.

“I know you would give me anything I asked for, but these are the only things I can take with me where I’m going.” He fell in to a weak coughing fit. At the end of it, he gave each of their hands a light squeeze. “I do ask one more thing,” he whispered as he sucked in another labored breath.

“Name it, Pop,” Blaine replied. He could feel the emotion building in his throat. Mara nodded her assent beside him.

“Promise me,” David started, then his voice seemed to catch behind another series of coughs. “
I don’t want you to be angry about me dying.” Blaine shook his head.

“It’s gonna be fine, Pop.”

“I know. I know.” A big smile broke across his thin, frail face. “I get to see my wife today. I get to be with Emily.”

Blaine’s heart skipped a beat at his father’s words. “It’s okay, Dad. We don’t begrudge you that reunion.” He slipped his right arm around Mara’s shoulders for comfort. Her tears were flowing unashamedly now, though her smile was ever-present. To Blaine
,
her smile was like the sun shining through the clouds while it
was
raining. A perfect recipe for a rainbow. A promise of a future. Even here at the side of his father’s deathbed.

The packages were still lying on top of David’s blankets. He released his hold on their hands and took the packages from his lap. He handed one to each of them. “These are the gifts
I want to give you
… One for each of you… But I think… you’ll find… they may go together… someday.” His breaths were shallow now. “I love you both,” he sighed.

“I love you, Pop,” Blaine whispered. Mara nodded. Her emotion had rendered her mute still, but she leaned over and kissed him
tenderly
on the cheek. Her tears stayed
behind
on David’s face.
He smiled,
and
then closed his eyes. His breathing was ragged and shallow. Mara slipped her hand into Blaine’s. He could feel her trembling beside him.

When David’s chest rose and fell for the last time, they stood together hand in hand for what seemed like an hour. Neither of them spoke. Beside
him
,
Blaine
could hear her whispering a faint prayer, commending his father into God’s hands.
He
closed his eyes too. He remembered his mother’s funeral. When they buried her, he stood beside her grave and whispered a prayer too. He had asked for God to take care of his mother. He had asked Him to set her up in a fine house, so that when he and his daddy joined her, they’d all be happy together again.

The picture in his mind made him smile
. They’re together now – his father and his mother – having a picnic under one of God’s maple trees, just like they used to.

“I have to call the doctor,” Mara interjected shakily.

Blaine looked at her and nodded, as she released his hand and reached to pull the sheet over David’s head.