The Promise of Provence (Love in Provence Book 1) (29 page)

35

Merlot was bustling with diners and high energy as usual when Molly and Katherine met for dinner.

Dessert was being served when the call came. Molly’s face blanched. It appeared she might faint as she gave one-word responses into her phone. After repeating her e-mail address, the call ended, and she stared at Katherine with a panic-stricken look.

“What’s wrong?” Katherine asked with alarm.

Molly swallowed slowly, closed her eyes, and gave her head a quick shake.

“That was the Vancouver police department.”

“And . . . ?” Katherine’s brow creased with worry.

“They’ve . . . found Shawn. He’s in the intensive care unit of Vancouver General, and that’s all they would say, except that I have to go out right away.”

“After all this time, it’s finally happened,” said Katherine as she went around the table to hug Molly. “You never gave up.”

“Goddamn it! Why can’t they give me more details? That’s so unfair!”

“Let’s get the bill and go to my house. We can book your flight online
and see if we can use my points.”

“Thanks, Kat. Do you think we might get lucky? I don’t have a goddamn minute to spare, and hopefully I’ll get an early-morning flight.”

“We’ll see. I wish I could go with you, but there’s no way with everything that’s going on at work and me leaving for France in less than three weeks. I feel so badly. Will you be all right? Do you want to try Andrea?”

“I’ll just have to be all right,” Molly said, her eyes filled with worry. “No alternative. I’m just praying Shawn is okay.”

“Me too. Go home now. You don’t need to be with me when I book the ticket. I’ll call you when I pull up the flight info, and I’ll take care of the bill here.”

They hugged each other tightly and Molly rushed off.

When Katherine got home, there was already a message from Molly. She was leaving in three hours at 11:15 p.m. and she was not going alone.

“Father DeCarlo is going to fly out with me and he booked the tickets. He has some business to conduct at the British Columbia diocese office in Vancouver, and he can keep me company. He knows Shawn from way back, and he feels I should not be there on my own. I really appreciate the gesture.”

Katherine had to agree. It seemed a little strange, but with what she knew of the priest and his work with the homeless and displaced, she felt certain his presence could only help. There would be comfort no matter what Molly was faced with out there—and with Shawn, you just never knew.

It was just after Katherine had arrived home from work the next day, and early afternoon Vancouver time, when Father DeCarlo phoned Katherine.

“I’m afraid the news is not good.”

“I was worried that might be the case,” Katherine said softly.

“We came straight to the hospital from the airport,” he continued, “and there were police guarding Shawn’s room in the ICU, which shocked us. We both thought he must be in serious trouble.”

“Oh, how awful.”

“It turned out they were there to protect him. He had been caught in crossfire during an altercation between drug gangs, and the police thought someone might come to make sure he was unable to identify any of them. That was hardly a worry. He was seriously wounded and put on life support.”

The ongoing issues with drug wars in the Vancouver area had been in the news for years.

Katherine’s eyes filled as she imagined how tragic this would be for Molly to face after living with hope for so many years that she would one day find Shawn well.

The priest continued, “We spent some time with Shawn, and I was able to administer the last rites. God rest his soul. After the doctors explained there was nothing more to be done, Molly made the decision to remove Shawn from life support. She held his hand through to the end.”

Tears streamed down Katherine’s face.

“I’m so thankful you were there with her,” Katherine said, her voice barely a whisper.

“So am I. Her sorrow was overwhelming,” he said softly. “She asked me to call you to let you know. Later this afternoon we’re going over to his room at a boardinghouse to organize whatever belongings he had, and as things stand now will fly back home the day after tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Father. Do you think Molly should spend that night with me?”

“I think so. Yes, I would say that’s a very good idea. I will have the limo bring her straight to your place. Would you mind calling the Blue Note to let them know she won’t perform this weekend and maybe not the following one either?”

“No problem. I’ll call immediately.”

“Thank you.”

“No, the thanks is all for you! I’m so grateful you are there with her.”

When she thought about it later that evening, Katherine considered how the two siblings had responded in such different ways to the traumatic childhood they had shared.

Molly had closed herself off in so many ways emotionally and maintained such tight control of her life with no serious relationships—
just the mysterious ongoing affair.

Shawn, on the other hand, was always out of control, with his exuberant but lovable personality. In and out of relationships and jobs, he bounced off walls until he slipped into the world of drugs and addiction.

Molly had attempted to be mother, father, and sister to him. Her loss now would be powerful.

Katherine finished wiping down her bike in the garage on Sunday after a long afternoon ride with her old cycling club. She went over the day in her mind and knew she was glad she had gone. She’d had to push herself, but she had done it.

May McNeilly had sent her an e-mail on Saturday inviting her along, and Katherine had decided it was time to get over the hurdle of facing everyone there. She felt she would want to ride with them regularly when she returned from France, and it would be good to connect with them before she left.

She realized her fears of feeling embarrassed and belittled were unfounded when everyone greeted her warmly. They were all about riding bikes, and that’s mostly what they shared, not the ride of life.

The ride had been challenging for her out-of-condition legs and butt. It was fifty kilometers following the Humber River Trail up and back, along mostly paved bike paths except for one short street section. Katherine had joined up at the Old Mill with others who had begun down at the lake. The overcast day made for a more comfortable ride through the forested and green areas that bordered the river. It was easy to forget you were riding through the heart of the west end of the city.

She had taken her cell phone with her but kept it on vibrate in the pouch on her bike, so she checked it now for messages.

Molly had left a voicemail; Kat was pleased to note her voice sounded strong. They were flying back from Vancouver on the red-eye, and Molly would call later on Monday.

“Don’t worry about me, my friend. I’m really quite fine—sad but fine. It’s not as if Shawn knew this was going to happen, but in a way he anticipated something, and he left me the most amazing letter. Lots to tell you.”

That sounded reassuring.

36

Molly called Katherine at the office just before the end of the afternoon on Monday.

“I’ll come to your place on my way home from work if you like.”

There were tears when she first arrived at Molly’s apartment, and they returned sporadically throughout their conversation. Life wasn’t fair for some people, and Shawn had been one of those.

“I’m so sorry that this didn’t turn out as you had hoped. You held onto that for so long.”

Molly sat with her head bowed for a moment, breathing deeply. “Kat, you remember how miserable things were at our house when we were growing up. Our parents smacked the shit out of us and abused us verbally. Dad was a raging alcoholic. But they were our parents and we kept looking for their love and approval when we were young, as kids do.”

Katherine nodded, recalling how Molly would often beg to stay at her house some weekends and Kat’s parents never refused.

“That stopped once your parents got divorced, Molly, when you were, what, ten?”

“Yup, Mom stopped hitting us then. I think before that she hit us when really she wanted to hit Dad. She was totally buzzed out on prescription drugs most of the time, and I became the caregiver for her and Shawn. I hardly ever saw my dad after that, but Shawn always wanted to go to his place. He got to drink Dad’s leftovers after the old man passed out.”

Katherine sighed sadly as Molly continued. “Anyway, I don’t have to repeat the whole sordid fucking history. You know it for the most part.”

“What happened to Shawn? Do you want to talk about it?”

Molly’s face was pale and drawn. “Words . . . they feel so brittle right now . . . it’s like they crumble and mean nothing. After holding on to a dream for so long, it’s hard to accept when it’s over.”

Katherine slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulder.

Molly nodded and continued. “Somehow I always felt it might end badly for him, especially after all his failed struggles to stay away from addiction.”

“Was he in a bad way again?”

“Yes, terrible, but typical of him, he met some good people along the way who tried to help him. They filled in the holes of his story for me. I’ll give you the short version. He lived cheaply in one room in a sleazy flophouse on the east side of the city. As always, he would get himself going on a pretty good path and in that state used all his energy to help other down-and-outers. He served meals at hostels. He drove around with volunteers to get people off the street in bad weather. He tried to commit to AA meetings until he slid off into a haze of drugs and booze again.”

Molly’s voice caught again as the pain washed over her.

Katherine swallowed hard.
Shawn was such a sweet guy as we were growing up
.

“He was making a drug buy when he got caught in some gang crossfire,” Molly finished, in almost a whisper.

Molly went into her bedroom and returned with several sheets of lined paper.

“He started to write me a letter when he checked himself out of the last rehab center, and he continued an ongoing missive until the week before he died. He said no matter what, he always had me with him . . .” Her voice cracked as tears slipped down her face. Kat got up and brought over the Kleenex box to put between them after she pulled a tissue out for each of them.

Molly handed her a page. “Read this.”

Katherine could hear Shawn’s voice in his words. Unbidden, tears pooled in her eyes as a vivid image of the last time she saw him stormed into her mind. He was in bad shape, and Molly was about to drive him to rehab again when Katherine had gone over to say good-bye.

His eyes were bleak, his body emaciated. He had run his hands through his hair as he spoke to her, and the anguish in his voice was barely suppressed. He really did want to turn his life around, but the devil inside him was unwilling to be vanquished. She could see and hear all that now as she read his letter.

There were rambling pages put together through the last few years, but the words on the last page she would never forget.

Katherine buried her face in her hands.

“Oh, Molly.”

“Shhh. It’s all right,” Molly reassured her with a hug as she cried too. “Until I found Shawn’s letter in his room, I felt raw and vicious with grief. I was so fucking angry. Knowing how he felt, how he had tried his very best in his own troubled way, really helped me.”

“Thank goodness Father DeCarlo was out there with you.”

“The depths of support he offered me . . .” Molly bit her lip as she collected herself again. “Taking care of all sorts of details, the cremation, disposing of Shawn’s few effects, and . . . just talking and listening . . .”

“Did he get the church work done he had to do out there?”

“Nope. We spent all day Saturday clearing up Shawn’s affairs. On Sunday we rented a car and drove up the Sea to Sky Highway to Whistler. He said it was just the drive to take my mind off everything, and he was right.”

“For sure! That drive is unbelievable, isn’t it? The cliffs, the sea, the light all combine to create such a surreal effect. We had a few biking vacations out there that I will never forget purely for the striking beauty that surrounded us.”

They talked about the panoramic views over Howe Sound that took a visitor’s breath away, before the drive turned into the richly forested route beyond Squamish.

“We had a peaceful day. Very peaceful. We stopped at a lookout over Howe Sound, took a little walk, and sat on a bench absorbing that splendor. The light was so calming.”

Katherine could hear the tone in Molly’s voice soften as she recalled the day. “Then we paused later at a few of those amazing waterfalls. Each time I felt something release inside me.”

Katherine nodded, remembering.

“At Whistler we took the gondola up to the Roundhouse and ate lunch out on the patio. My God, Katski, those views—mountaintops as far as the eye can see. You know, I have never experienced anything like that. We hiked one of the upper trails, and it was the best place for me to begin to come to terms with everything. I don’t know when I’ve been in such an . . .” Molly paused, searching for the right word. “Such an . . . ethereal environment, almost sacred, you know? I talked. He listened. He talked. I cried until I just kind of came out the other side.”

Molly was gaining composure as she spoke about the weekend and its outcome.

“He’s still out there for a day or two. Stayed to do what he had to do. That’s why I decided to take the red-eye flight home. I just wanted to leave as soon as we left the mountains.”

Katherine put her arms around Molly again. They sat like that for a minute.

“There are no words that can express my sorrow . . . none.”

“I know, Katski, I know. It’s a heavy thing, this thing called grief.”

“It will take time to learn how to manage it. That’s the main lesson I have gained from this past year. One step at a time,” Katherine told her.

Molly stood up and beckoned her to the kitchen. “Actually, I’m feeling kind of hungry. What did you put in the fridge when you got here?”

Kat had stopped and picked up leftover pasta in her fridge from the weekend. She warmed it up and they sat down to eat.

Molly wanted to talk about their trip to France, and a change of topic seemed like a good idea.

“Holy crap!” Molly said. “Less than two weeks before we go. The timing could not be better.”