Chapter 26
Nan
“Okay, you two. Ready to go to the park? Yes?” I opened the hatch on my car. Blixen and Nelson immediately jumped in, eager to get going.
“Good dogs. Let’s go,” I said, and closed the hatch.
“Nan? Hey, Nan?”
I turned around. Luke Pascal had come through the door and was trotting toward my car. I wasn’t all that surprised. He’d been looking at me pretty intently inside the restaurant and when I turned to leave, I’d felt his eyes follow me.
“I’ve been hoping I might run into you. Do you have a second?”
“Not really,” I replied, glancing at my watch.
“Right. You’ve got a dinner date. But you’re taking the dogs to the park first, right? Would you mind if I came along? I could follow you in my car. I’d really like to talk to you about something.”
Luke didn’t say what he wanted to talk about, but he didn’t have to. The subject, I knew, was Grace. I could see it in his eyes, the desperation of unrequited love. I was going to say no. But then I said yes, because the other thing I saw in his eyes was determination.
This wasn’t a man who could be brushed off easily. I was going to have to explain to him, in clear and certain terms, why he needed to leave Grace alone, if not forever, at least for a good long while.
“All right,” I said, opening the door to my car. “Follow me.”
* * *
Laurelhurst Park is much smaller than Washington Park, only about twenty-five acres, but it’s a quiet oasis on the east side of the river, green and a bit formal, designed by the Olmsted Brothers, the same firm that designed New York City’s Central Park, with a lovely little lake in the center. Such a peaceful spot. Even the dogs seem to sense that, trotting calmly along without tugging at their leashes, which was a good thing since I still only had the use of one hand.
Blixen, Nelson, Luke, and I were on our second lap around the lake and I was no closer to convincing Luke to let Grace be than I was when we started. He was a very determined man, even more than I’d taken him for, and he was in love with Grace. How did I know this? Because he kept saying so.
Every good and sensible reason I gave him for leaving Grace alone, at least for now, was met with, “I get it. I know. You’re probably right. But I love her.”
He was so earnest and, I think, very sincere. It was hard not to like Luke Pascal.
“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as we strolled past a big willow tree, the dogs walking much more slowly now, their energy beginning to wane.
“But I do. I love her. I’ve tried to talk myself out of it, believe me. Do you have any idea how inconvenient this is for me? I’m trying to get a business off the ground. That’s what I should be focused on. Instead, I spend all my time thinking about Grace.
“When I first met her, that night at The Fish House, I liked her. A lot. But that was all. We had a really good time and I hadn’t danced in forever. I was having fun and so was she, but that’s all there was to it. But then, during that last dance . . . I don’t know. Something happened.”
He stopped in the middle of the path and pulled his hands out of his pockets. Blixen, who was looking a bit tired, immediately sat down, her tongue lolling from her mouth. Nelson sat down beside her.
“It’s ridiculous, I know that. This shouldn’t be happening to me, not now. I’m thirty-seven years old. This is the kind of thing that should have happened to me when I was eighteen, or twenty-three. But it never did. When Ava and I got married, it was because she was smart, attractive, and it was time. I just figured I was one of those guys who couldn’t fall in love. And that was fine with me. I’d watched a couple of my friends go through it and they looked miserable.
“Now I know just how miserable. Come on, Nan. You’ve got to help me. Please.”
Poor Luke. He really did look miserable. A part of me really did want to help him, but I wasn’t sure I could.
“I’m sorry, Luke. I know this is hard. But you’ve got to understand, Grace and Jamie—”
“Were deeply in love,” he said, finishing my sentence for me. “I realize that. And, listen, when Monica told me that Grace was married and all about Jamie’s accident, I backed off. Yes, I went to find her at the coffee shop, but only to invite her to take the dance class. She really had fun that night and I thought dancing might help her. She was carrying such a load.
“But I would never have laid a hand on her,” he said, raising one of those hands. “Scout’s honor. Miserable or not, I would never touch another man’s wife, Nan. You’ve got to believe me.”
I did believe him. I’m usually a pretty good judge of character and in the previous half hour, Luke had shown me he was a man with plenty of it.
“Luke, don’t you see? Grace needs time to mourn. It might take a year. Or more. There’s no way of knowing. Grief has no timetable—”
“If that’s true, then why does it have to be a year? Why can’t it be a month? Two months? I’m not trying to replace Jamie. That would be impossible, even if I tried. But if I think I can make Grace happy now, why should I have to wait? Why should she? Give me one good reason,” he said. “Just one.”
But when he put it that way, I couldn’t think of one. Sure, there was the “decent interval” argument, but Luke asked for a good reason. Satisfying the expectations and judgments of people outside the situation didn’t qualify.
And Luke had a point, if he could make Grace happy now, what was the virtue of waiting until some far-off tomorrow? How many nights should Grace have to spend alone, how many too-quiet rooms had to press in on her, how many copper pots was she supposed to polish, trying to erase the ache of loneliness, before she was allowed to love again?
Where did these rules come from? And why did we suffer to abide by them?
“Luke,” I said helplessly. “What is it you expect me to do? Grace is the one you need to convince. Why come to me?”
“Because Grace loves and respects you,” he replied. “And because you know her better than anyone. She said so herself. I’m in love with her, but I hardly know her. If I show up at her door and declare my undying love, she’s going to slam it in my face. Even if she doesn’t, there’s no way she’ll believe me. Tell me what I should do to convince her I’m for real? What should I say?”
“Nothing,” I answered. “Don’t say a word.”
Luke frowned and shoved his hands in his pockets. Obviously, he wasn’t finding my suggestion very helpful. I gave a little tug on the leashes. Blixen and Nelson got to their feet. We began walking again.
“Two weeks before I left for my freshman year of college, my boyfriend broke up with me. We’d met on the first day of junior high and had been together ever since. I assumed that we’d be getting married after college, so the breakup really, really hurt. It also made me determined not to make the same mistake twice. I decided I wasn’t going to date at all in freshman year. After that, I was going to play the field, not commit myself to any one boy until at least the end of my junior year.
“But on my first day at Oregon State, a tall, skinny boy sat down next to me in freshman English. He had a really goofy grin,” I said, smiling. “And he wouldn’t stop looking at me, but I refused to look back. Every day for the next two weeks, he took the seat next to mine, even after I moved to another row. He asked me out twice. Both times, I said no, pretty forcefully.
“But he didn’t give up. I didn’t know until later, but he figured out who my roommate was, waited for her outside the library and talked to her, trying to find out everything he could about me. After that, he changed his tactics.
“He didn’t sit next to me anymore. But when my roommate told him my car wouldn’t start and I was upset because I wanted to go home for the weekend, he replaced my alternator. When I got a terrible case of the flu and couldn’t come to class, he took notes and gave them to my roommate to give to me. And not just for my English class, but all my classes. He actually sat in on my classes, courses he wasn’t even enrolled in, and took notes for me.
“It went on like that for three months. Every time I needed help, sometimes even before I knew I needed it, Jim Wilja was there. He didn’t tell me he loved me,” I said. “He showed me. And then he waited for me to figure it out. He waited for me to come to him.
“One day in December, I did. I sat down next to him in English class. When class was over, I asked if he wanted to go to the Christmas concert with me that night. He said yes, and that was that. Three weeks after graduation, we were married.”
My eyes had been fixed forward, looking straight ahead. Luke walked alongside me, silent as the dogs the whole time I was talking. Now I turned to look at him.
“Don’t say anything,” I said. “Be there for her. Be her friend.”
“And then?”
I shrugged. “And then who knows? Maybe she’ll fall in love with you. Maybe she won’t. But one thing I do know: Being in love with your best friend is the best thing that can ever happen to a person.”