Chapter 39
The next night, Mary and Dean sat at the patio table eating salmon and sweet potato planks that Dean had grilled. The sun had started to set, and the sky showcased beautiful shades of pink and purple. Eating outside in the fresh air gave Mary so much joy, especially here on the deck in their backyard, a place they’d spent so much time together as a family. She glanced toward the putting green and imagined six-year-old Kendra learning how to play, and then she saw twenty-four-year-old Kendra competing against Dean. They had a lifetime of memories here, and so many more to come.
A strong breeze sent her napkin fluttering across the deck. Dean jumped from his seat to chase it down. “Do you need anything while I’m up?” He’d been keeping a watchful eye on her ever since bringing her home from the hospital, barely leaving her side. The doctor had diagnosed her with a grade three concussion and prescribed rest. For the most part she had taken the advice, exerting herself only to plan a three-week vacation to Europe, with the first stop in London to visit Kendra and a surprise stay in Scotland so Dean could play at Saint Andrews. With the napkin in hand, he returned to his seat.
“I’m going to book our flights and hotels tomorrow,” Mary said. “Are you sure you can take the time off?”
Dean reached for the water pitcher. “I put it on my calendar when you mentioned it this morning.”
She extended her glass toward him so he could fill it. “I think this trip will be really good for us. Give us a chance to reconnect.”
“What do you mean by reconnect?”
She paused to take a sip. “I feel like we don’t spend enough time together lately. You spend so much time on the golf course, and I’m here by myself, lonely.” Just admitting that to him was a huge relief.
Dean’s eyes widened. “Lonely? I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’m sorry.”
“I understand you love to play.”
He shook his head. “I don’t need to golf every afternoon, and when I do, you could meet me at the club for dinner.”
“I’d like that.” Mary swallowed a bite of sweet potato, the smoky, sweet flavor of cinnamon exploding in her mouth. “It will be nice to spend time together.”
He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “I agree.”
Mary felt the same thrill she had at the beginning of her alternate life at the prospect of spending more time with her husband of over twenty years.
“When we get back, we should have date night once a week. Get dressed up. Go to dinner. See a show or something.”
“That would be nice.” Dean’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and hit the ignore button. “That reminds me, I saw James is playing at Foxwoods in November. I got tickets, for Rick and Jenni too. To make up for missing him last time.”
An image of James in his postal uniform popped into Mary’s head. She couldn’t wait to see the real version of him again. “Wonderful.”
They ate in comfortable silence for a minute or two.
“There’s something I’ve been thinking about that I want to run by you,” Mary said.
Dean put down his fork, giving her his full attention.
“I want to work. Do something that makes a difference.”
“For a charity?”
“I was thinking of pitching a weekly segment to Channel 77 where I covered good news, happy stories about people helping each other. Or I could start my own YouTube channel or post the stories to Instagram.” She braced herself, expecting Dean to laugh at the idea.
“That’s a great idea. The world needs more happy stories,” he said. “My assistant is a whizbang at that online stuff. He could help.”
“You really think it’s a good idea?”
Dean nodded, chewing on a piece of fish. Mary beamed at him. In the things that mattered most, he’d never failed to support her, both here and in the alternate world, where he hadn’t owed her anything. Their love for one another really was tattooed on their souls.
She stood to clear the dishes. Dean reached for her arm. “I’ll do it. You’re supposed to be resting.”
She sank back to her chair.
“Anything come back to you about why you were at the golf course yesterday?” he said.
He’d asked last night and again this morning. Both times she’d told him that she didn’t remember. “Nothing.”
Dean rocked back and forth in his seat, the wrinkles in his forehead more pronounced. “The doctor said your memory should return. We should call to find out why it isn’t.”
Mary reached for a wedge of lime and squeezed it into her water glass. He wasn’t going to let this go. If she told him the truth, he would think she was hallucinating and insist on taking her to the emergency room right now. She had to come up with something.
The wind blew. Below the deck, the flags on the putting green fluttered. She closed her eyes, remembering that she’d promised herself that if she made it back to this version of her life, she would try to develop a love for the game he loved so much.
“I wanted to see about taking golf lessons,” she said. “Now that Kendra’s not here, I thought I could play with you from time to time.”
Dean’s entire face lit up. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Her smile matched his.
“You don’t need to sign up for lessons. I can teach you. I want to teach you.”
This little thing made him so happy. She should have suggested it long ago. “Okay then, you’ll give me a lesson.”
His cheek twitched. “That reminds me. I had the weirdest dream last night.”
“Was I in it?”
Dean pointed his fork at her. “You were a TV reporter just starting out, and I was a retired PGA golfer. You wanted to interview me.”
A shiver ran down Mary’s back.
“Hello, is anyone home?” Darbi’s voice called out from inside the house. The door to the sunroom slid open, and she stepped onto the deck. “Mary, are you okay? Kendra called. Told me what happened to you on the golf course.”
Darbi was sunburned and her nose was peeling, just as it had been the night of the viewing party. Mary studied her cousin for a clue that she remembered everything that had happened. All she noticed was that the tension that had tightened Darbi’s face in the alternate world was no longer there.
“I’m fine. Dean was just telling me about this weird dream he had where he was a professional golfer. I was a young reporter, and he was giving me golf lessons.” She said it to see how Darbi would react.
Darbi gasped and looked pointedly at Mary. They held each other’s eyes. By the way Darbi’s mouth hung open, Mary knew she remembered everything.
Dean cocked his head. “I didn’t say anything about the lesson. I mean, I did give you a lesson in the dream, but I hadn’t told you that yet.”
Darbi looked away and pointed at the small piece of remaining fish. “That looks amazing. Can I have a bite?”
“I’ll get you a plate in a minute,” Dean said, his gaze never leaving Mary’s face.
Mary reached for his empty dish and piled it on top of hers. “I was speaking too fast. Meant to say you were telling me about your dream and also that you’re going to give me golf lessons so we can play together. Two separate, unrelated things.”
“Okay, sure.” Dean reached for the dishes Mary had stacked and brought them inside.
“I’m so relieved to see you here.” Darbi motioned to Mary’s house, her eyes welling up.
Mary felt a surge of love and empathy toward her cousin. She’d felt responsible for Mary being in the alternate world, and it wasn’t her fault. “I understand why you faked the letter. I’m sorry for blaming you.”
Darbi reached for Mary’s hand and squeezed it. “It was an unbelievably stressful time for both of us.”
Dean returned with a plate and silverware for Darbi. “I’ll clean while you two catch up.”
Mary waited for him to leave before speaking again. “I don’t know how I got back or what happened while I was gone.”
“I suspect it will be like what happened before. Memories will fill in as you need them.”
“What do you think brought me back?”
Darbi wiped her mouth and reached into her bag. She pulled out a beat-up envelope with a return address in Limerick, Ireland.
“What’s this?” Mary asked.
“A letter from Uncle Cillian. A real one. I finally found the stack right before Kendra called. In the storage closet inside the old pressure cooker. Jacqui is scared to death of that thing. I must have hidden it there because I knew she’d never use it.”
My dearest Darbi,
I’m delighted to hear that you’re happy in your new life in America and that you’ve found the love of your life. She sounds like a lovely lady and I do hope to make it back to the States to meet her someday.
I sincerely doubt that you will ever wish to return to your former situation. However, if you do, I want to reassure you that you have the power within you to get back. All you need to do is to develop a genuine appreciation for the life you left behind, warts and all. Truly, let go of your regrets. No thinking the grass is greener. That, my dear, is no easy task. We tend to want it all and romanticize that which we don’t have.
In every life, dearest Darbi, there are hurdles to overcome and periods of great sadness. My hope for you is that the good times make the bad times worth it and that the blessings in your life outweigh the curses.
Fondly,
Uncle Cillian
Mary folded the letter and returned it to Darbi. She felt a bit like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz . She’d had the power to get home all the time within her. She also knew that if she hadn’t lived in the alternate world, she would have continued to be unhappy here in her real life. “I do appreciate my life. It’s more meaningful than I ever imagined.”
“We never truly know the impact we have on others,” Darbi said. “A smile, a kind word, positive feedback can change a life.”
“I see that now.”
“So, no more regrets?” Darbi asked.
Mary’s gaze flickered to the sunroom, where Dean was carrying paper plates and a carrot cake. He’d been gone for less than a minute, but her heart leaped at the sight of him making his way toward her to sit at their table on the deck of the house where they’d raised their daughter. These were the meaningful moments in life. “Just one,” she said. “I wish I hadn’t had to learn to appreciate my life the hard way.”