Chapter 23
Mary Cahira O'Hara; 1930 on December 24th, 2016; Frederick, Maryland
The tattoo represents not only a willingness to accept pain -- to endure it -- but a need to actively embrace it. Because life is painful -- beautiful but painful.
NICOLA BARKER, The Yips
M y mom, Sarah and I in my kitchen putting the finishing touches on some snowflake shaped sugar cookies. Unfortunately, Rebecca has to work tonight. One of the downsides of being a nurse is that people do not get well just because it's a holiday. My dad is playing traditional Christmas songs, and we all sing along as Nat King Cole and Bing Crosby serenade us.
There is a fire in the kitchen's huge granite fireplace that is crackling and making its own music. My kitchen has a large bank of windows, and I love watching the fluffy white snow that is falling softly outside my window. Even though it’s dark outside, the light from my outside Christmas tree lights illuminates the snow as it falls. The weather in Maryland is often too warm for snow at Christmastime, and I'm thrilled to be enjoying a white Christmas. Unfortunately, the ground is so warm that the snow doesn’t stick. Everything else is perfect. Yet I still feel like an actress on a stage, pretending to be happy when I’m not. The doorbell rings and I open it to find the FedEx guy holding up an envelope. "Can you sign this letter Ma'am? It's return receipt."
I sign my name on his electronic keypad, thank him and then turn the letter over. The return address says only, Commander Evan Granger. My heart leaps in my throat, and I feel all the blood in my face rush to my toes. I start to fall backwards, but my dad's strong arms catch me and hold me steady.
I manage to mutter, "Thank you, daddy."
My dad kisses the top of my head and says, “That’s my job. I will always be here when you fall. Figuratively and literally apparently,” he chuckles. “What’s upset you Cahira? You look like you have seen a ghost.”
I hand him the certified envelope, and he growls. "That asshole has some nerve contacting you. I'd like to strangle him."
"Dad, he is the father of my children. I need to make peace with him if I can."
My dad says nothing but his face says it all. He's pissed as hell.
"Dad, please. This situation is upsetting enough. Help me to the living room."
My dad offers me his arm, and I walk into my living room. He helps me sit down in the navy blue leather recliner I have positioned next to my couch. My back is aching from all the standing I have done today. I slide my hands underneath my thighs to steady their shaking and then look up at my dad's worried face. I know I need to be strong right now because my dad is about to lose his shit. I reach out for the envelope with a determined and anxious heart.
"Dad, let me have the envelope back," I put as much conviction into my voice as I can, but my voice is still shaky.
My dad shoots me a pointed look but hands it over. "Just say the word, and he will be transferred to Alaska for his last six months," mutters my dad.
I hear my mom's Irish lilt and breathe a sigh of relief. "Behave yourself and sit down me' darlin'," she orders my dad. Her accent is always stronger when she is emotional.
My dad sits.
I open up the Fed Ex envelope and take out the contents. There is a CD with "Please watch in its entirety." I recognize Evan's handwriting on the disc.
My dad puts the CD in the DVD player, and we all gather round and watch as David sits down and pours his heart out to Evan. For so many years, I held an image of David in my mind as either the handsome young man who swept me off my feet or the defiant young man that met death on his terms. Tonight is the first time I realized David was a flawed human being, just like anyone else. Capable of behaving in a way that was understandable but selfish. My heart shatters at seeing his emaciated body and the droop on his face, of hearing David declare his love for me. The silence is thick in the room as the last notes of David's whistling finally fade away.
My mom buries her head in her hands. I have to turn away when I see her body start to shake with pain and tears. My dad murmurs something softly to her and leads her upstairs. His gaze is soft with love and devotion. My pang of jealousy is replaced immediately with regret. Regret that I have turned away from Andrew, a man that loves me the way my father loves my mother. I watch as my parents disappear upstairs and turn back around to look out the living room window
Before I can get up off the couch to turn the DVD player off, I see Evan sit down on a cot in front of the camera. The background appears to be corrugated metal, and I notice a pile of weapons and equipment behind him. The heat in the room is almost palpable and probably accounts for the fact that Evan's shirt is off, sweat glistening on his chest. A pair of dog tags hangs down and draws attention to his tats. I feel a brief surge of desire replaced quickly with worry over his apparent exhaustion.
Then…vindication. Hah! Serves you right!
I quickly push away the errant emotion, but my eyes feel hungry for every detail. Evan's hair is now brushing the top of his collar, and it is evident he hasn't shaved in a week or more. He looks at someone off camera and asks, “Tom, you getting this OK? Good, then get lost. I just need ten minutes.” Then he turns toward the camera and starts to speak.
"Today is December 1st. Wish I could tell you where I have been for the last five months but I can’t. Suffice to say if there's a bright center to the universe; I'm in the country that farthest from it. Shit. Look, I’m screwing this up. Please, don't turn this off. Just hear me out Cahira. I might be a linguist, but I know that words are going to fail me right now. I wrote down what I wanted to say so I didn't miss anything."
I notice him pulling at his dog tags and rubbing his chest and then he pulls out some sheets of paper and starts to read. His voice starts out clear and true but is breaking by the end.
Dear Cahira,
I don't know what to address first so let me start by addressing the two most important items. Faith and Hope. Luke wrote and told me that we will soon be the parents of twin girls. You should know that I fully intend on being a part of their lives and I have no compunction about signing an affidavit of parentage. I know you are a woman of integrity and I know without a doubt that those are my daughters you are carrying.
Evan looks up from the letter, his left hand balled into a fist. "Ah, shit. Fuck I swore. God dammit. This letter isn't going so well. That sounded too stiff and formal. Right up until I started swearing like a damn sailor." I giggle hysterically then stop abruptly when I remember all the reasons that this isn't funny. I watch as Evan runs a hand through his hair and lets out a deep breath. "Yeah, OK. I'm not going to erase that because I have tried recording this about ten times so far and Tom is getting sick of waiting for me to finish up. I'm going to keep reading."
"Let me start by saying that I have been on a mission since I set foot in this god-forsaken country. I have not had any opportunity to send or receive mail until a week ago. I got back from my ops to find mail from you, Luke, Frank and my dad. My dad's mail consisted of a CD David made two days before he died. I have no idea why my dad withheld it in the years between David's death and now. I would like you to watch it because I think it will help you find some peace.
I know that it has helped me.
Cahira, I wasn't even off the plane here before I regretted the things I said to you. The horrible, vile, disgusting things I said. I don't know how I can apologize because no apology is going to make up for the cruelty of my words to you. You have every right to hate me. I could hardly believe it when I read your second letter, in which you said that you had forgiven me. I don’t know why I was surprised after all the examples of generosity and love I have seen you demonstrate. But your willingness to forgive me just boggles my mind.
I listened to my father and step-mother's version of events for twelve years, and I took them as gospel. You begged me to listen and not only did I refuse, but I also mocked you for giving me something so precious. I don't deserve your forgiveness.
I knew you were telling the truth long before I received David's CD. Please don't think that his CD is what swayed me. However, I will admit that it did make me see the horror of what you went through. David was an amazing person, but he should never have put you in that situation. It was untenable. I know he would not normally have been so selfish and I can only think that his pain was so bad he thought the ends would justify the means.
I never imagined that you could be pregnant when I left. I have to admit that I was a little stunned. Guess not as surprised as you were though. Frank wrote and told me that you lost a lot of weight and were sick in the beginning. The heartache I caused you probably made all your symptoms much worse. "I'm sorry," is not good enough but I can't imagine what I could say to you that would be good enough. You gave me your heart, trusted me with your heart, trusted me with your body, and I destroyed you. The only woman I have ever loved.
I want you to know that I love Faith and Hope already. I have always wanted to be a father. Now I have a chance to be a father to two beautiful little girls, and I want you to know that I will be there every step of the way for them and for you. Childbirth classes, setting up the nursery, changing diapers, the whole nine yards. I changed an awful lot of David's diapers over the years. Got to be something of an expert. I can't tell you that I won't ever screw up. I probably will. But it will be because I love them too much, not too little. I'm grateful to your parents for taking such good care of you while I've been deployed overseas.
As soon as I return, I am moving to Frederick. I will take you up on your offer and stay in the studio apartment above the garage once the twins are born. I have six months of leave coming, a large sum of money in the bank and my retirement. I intend on working from home for the first year so I can be a part of their lives. I have job offers that will allow me to telecommute and Frank has also offered me a job working for his company.
Frank let me know that you have someone else in your life and I will make every effort to be respectful to him and your decision to move on. When I think of you with him, I feel as if an IED exploded in my heart. Yet I know I only have myself to blame. You should know that I love you. I am also in love with you. I know you don't reciprocate those feelings. I get it. Believe me. But in the interest of full disclosure, I wanted you to know. I am going to do everything I can to win you back. To make you trust me again. You should know I haven’t touched another woman while I’ve been gone. I have no claim over your heart but you should know that you still lay claim to mine.
I just need you to know that I am not trying to win you back by using our daughters. Whatever happens between us has no bearing on my participation in Faith and Hope's lives. I will be a full-time father to our girls.
There were so many moments over the last five months when I thought of you. Imagined your hair spread out on my pillow, the fire in your eyes when you got angry, the way your eyes turn emerald when you are feeling passionate. I remember you once complained that the only poetry I have memorized is of a sexual nature. So I wrote you a sonnet. I had to look up the pattern Mr. Shakespeare used because it's been a few years since I took English lit. I don't think it will win any literature awards, but I did my best.
Evan looks up and says, "Here goes nothing." I see him draw in his shoulders, take a deep breath, and realize he is nervous.
For my warrior queen:
The hues of a Caribbean sunrise are painted in her hair
Her beautiful eyes heighten to emerald with desire
Pure goodness and love her heart at my feet laid bare
But secrets kept between us set our love afire
In my pain, I did mock her most precious gift
My cruel words destroyed my warrior queen
I set my warrior’s true heart adrift
Too late- I realize my folly, my tears shed unseen.
Then the angel connecting both our hearts
Saw fit to send us Hope and Faith
Two precious lives unite us from oceans apart
A wealth of blessings David did truly graith
My warrior, my soul cries out for you with longing.
My love, is our chance for forever gone with the dawning?
Evan looks up from the letter and peers into the camera. I see tears in his eyes, and I have to cover my mouth with my hand to smother the sobs that are threatening to erupt. "I will always love you." He clenches his right fist and thumps it over his heart. "You have my heart Cahira. You have from the moment I laid eyes on you. I know that I broke yours and that you have no reason to trust me with it again. I swear to God I will prove to you that your heart is safe with me. I don't deserve you and I will probably never deserve you. But I will spend the rest of my life trying to deserve you. God willing, I will be returning January 3rd and will be on your doorstep January 4th. Give my love to our girls." His voice catches, and the screen goes dark.
Tears are streaming down my face, and I feel the pain well up inside me. Shards of glass are making a million tiny cuts in my chest; my heart is bleeding pain and sorrow. It washes over until my pain is a stream of misery and then a river. Growing and swelling until I am drowning in it. I give myself over for the first time since Evan walked away. Let it sweep me away on its current towards the riptide I know is waiting for me. I grieve for lost chances. I grieve for lost loves. I let all my fears pour out with the pain, and it sweeps me away. Away into an ocean of heartbreak. I am leaning forward in my recliner, my head forward as I rock. Back and forth. Back and forth. Cradling my belly while rocking my beautiful girls as if they are already in my arms. Slowly the grief ebbs and my tears start to slow. I wipe them away with my hand in fury, angry that I am so weak. That I still care so much for a man who was so careless with my heart.
I hear the creak of my wood floor and look up to see Andrew standing in the doorway. For a brief moment, I see the anguish in his beautiful blue eyes and his shoulders slump in defeat. He draws in a long breath before gritting his teeth and saying in a low, pained voice, "I heard Cahira. I know all of it now." I flinch at the heartbreak in his voice, and my own heart breaks a little at the realization I have hurt this wonderful man. Andrew turns around and starts back down the hallway. My Christmas lights and garlands twinkle happily and make a mockery of our mutual distress. Andrew stops halfway down my hallway, squares his shoulders, lets out a sigh of resignation and turns towards me. I see the moment he decides to stay because the set of his jaw changes. He walks towards me with purposefulness, stops in front of my recliner and offers me his hand.
I gaze at his long fingers, so capable at healing his patients and feel so grateful for Andrew’s friendship. Our friendship healed me in ways I could never have anticipated. I place my hand into his, and Andrew pulls me up, wrapping me in his strong arms. He chuckles a little as one of my girls kicks with so much force that my shirt moves.
"Even your girls are on team Evan's side," he smiles sadly but kisses me gently on my cheek. I feel the love and tenderness he is trying to communicate to me as clearly, as if he is speaking the words.
I whisper softly in his ear, "Andrew, I'm so sorry. I never intended to hurt you. I never wanted that."
He draws back a little and studies my face, his eyes earnest, his face open and honest when he replies with assurance, "I know that Cahira. You have told me repeatedly that you were not sure you were ready, that your heart was broken and that you weren't sure if you could love again. I took a chance because I saw in you and the girls a chance to have everything I have always wanted. Love, children, a family. I think we could have had that with each other if you had met me first. But your heart has already been given to freaking Captain America."
I have to smile at the hint of mockery in his voice, and I breathe a little easier when I see a wry little smile quirk his mouth.
He says gruffly, “Come on, let’s get you into bed.” I’m led upstairs to my room and over to the Queen Anne style armchair in the corner. Andrew kneels down and takes my shoes off, placing them on the floor. “Wait here for a second,” he says softly. I smile as I see him walk over to the bed, plump my pillows and then pull down my white goose down comforter and sheet set back.
I say teasingly, "You sure that medicine is the right career for you? It seems like you make a damn good nurse."
He looks over his shoulder and smiles at me, his lips quirking a little. "Nah, not nearly smart enough for nursing. Think I'm stuck in the field of medicine."
"Finally, a doctor that recognizes nurses run the show." I retort with a grin.
"Oh, we all know nurses run the show, it's just our frail egos that prevent us from admitting it."
I shoot a grin back as Andrew guides me to the far side of my queen sized poster bed. Andrew lays me down and helps me roll onto my left side, positioning a pillow behind my back and between my legs. He covers me up and walks around to the other side of the bed. I turn and pat the portion of the bed next to me, and Andrew smiles down with a sardonic grin.
"Finally got you in bed with me. I'm a lucky man to have you in my arms on Christmas Eve." He climbs on top of the covers and covers himself up with a throw blanket, then pulls me to him so that my head is laying on his chest. The warmth and intimacy of the act are almost my undoing, and I stiffen briefly. Andrew must feel the gesture because he starts to stroke my hair, running his fingers through it as he does. He murmurs gently, "Shhh, it's going to be OK Cahira. You're going to be fine. I'm here for you for as long as you need me. I would rather be your friend than lose you all together." I fall asleep in Andrew's arms, knowing that I am treasured and praying that Andrew will find someone worthy of all the love he has to offer.
I awaken Christmas morning to the sound of my doorbell. I groan when I try to sit up because I feel just awful. My eyes are stuck together, my head is pounding like someone has used a mallet on the back of it, and my mouth is so dry I'm pretty sure my tongue's stuck to the top of my mouth. I groan again, push myself up with my left arm, and find a strong arm helping me up. Andrew smiles down at me and jerks his head to the door.
I nod my head then add, "Please, if you don't mind, that would be kind of awesome. It's probably Quinn; he said he would be here in time to open presents."
"Sure." Andrew smiles reassuringly and touches my cheek with his hand before disappearing down the stairs. I hear masculine voices but can't make out the details. Sighing, I manage to swing my legs over the side of the bed, walk over to my dresser and take out my red maternity leggings and matching shirt with "Santa's Babies" embroidered on the bottom. A gift from Rebecca. Of course.
I manage to make it to the bathroom and change my clothes, brushing my teeth but not my hair. I can see from one glance that I am going to need to wash it first because half of my curls are tangled, and the other half is sticking out in wild disarray. I groan a little and then decide to pull my hair back in a loose ponytail. "You look like a deranged elf," I mutter despairingly to my reflection than stick my tongue out in reply.
I swear to God I have placenta brain. I'm slowly misplacing my mind a little more every day as my belly gets bigger.
I plod my way down the stairs. Slower than molasses in January. I'm paranoid I will fall down the stairs like Scarlett did in Gone with the Wind and then miscarry my girls. True, I don't have her long skirts, but I am still as clumsy as hell. I'm so busy focusing on putting one foot in front of the other that I don't pay attention to the shift in the tone or volume of Andrew's conversation until I am off the stairs and within sight of my front entry way. I see my father and Andrew facing the doorway, standing so close that their backs are almost touching, as if they are presenting a united front. Just like that, I know whom they are talking to, Evan.