Chapter Twenty
SITTING ON A bench staring blankly at the golden and rust display of fall flowers should help to heal my heart.
It doesn’t.
The beauty takes my breath away. Yet all I can do is wonder why I can’t find this type of beauty in my life.
I needed a break. I took a week off work and drove up the coast to Vancouver. I took a ride on the Tsawwassen Ferry to Vancouver Island, then made my way to Butchart Gardens.
I’d heard it was amazing. Fifty-four acres of the most stunning gardens in the world. Meandering pathways lead you to incredible view after incredible view. It took me four hours to get through it on my first visit. I paused often to appreciate the sights my eyes were beholding.
Today’s my third visit. It’s someplace I’ve always wanted to go. The beauty is supposed to soothe my soul, grant me peace.
The magnificence brings me to tears. But it doesn’t change my life.
I still have a perfect man who loves me, yet he will always be beyond my reach.
No matter how long I hold out my arms to him, he will never be within my grasp.
His full lips will talk to me but never touch mine.
His eyes will look upon me, yet always be guarded.
We can love from afar, yet never close the distance.
It's a cruel twist of fate.
I release a defeated breath. I’m bundled up against the chillier weather. Hat, gloves, scarf, coat. All the usual things that guard my body from the cold.
Why didn’t I guard my heart? How do I guard my heart?
Hat, gloves, scarf, and a coat won’t work.
Is there some sort of off button I can push?
Turn myself off. Don’t feel. Don’t think.
Just be. Like some sort of robot that does her job, going through the motions of being alive, but never actually feeling alive.
Is that the only way to find happiness? Except that’s not happiness. That’s just surviving.
I arise from my bench, the one with a view to die for. It’s time to move on. Time to make my way through the exquisite garden, surrounded by lush beauty.
It’s the same thing I’ll do with my life. Pick myself up and move on, surrounded by people who have found beauty in life.
It just won’t be me. My life is not an exquisite garden. And it never will be.
Am I feeling sorry for myself? The answer to that is a resounding yes.
I deserve the pity party.
You know what? I’m going to go home and pick myself up. It’s what I always do. It’s the stuff I’m made of.
Pure resilience. Drop me, and I bounce back. Throw me, and I return like a boomerang. Break me, and I glue myself back together.
But right now, I’m allowing myself a meltdown.
No worries. I will rise from the ashes. I always do.
EXCEPT, WHEN I return home with my dignity intact, my townhome feels like a coffin. A place where all my dreams die.
I can’t help myself. Allison’s hospital is not far from where I live. I have this crazy desire to visit her, the woman Ren loves. I just want to see her, to talk to her, to tell her how faithful Ren is to her. To tell her how lucky she is to have such a wonderful man in her life.
She won’t understand. But maybe, just maybe, there’s still a part of her deep inside that comprehends a few things, even though she can’t show it. You never know.
Ren’s schedule is so easy to decipher. I can easily choose a time when I know he won’t be there. After all, I lived in his compartmentalized life for a while. Just to be safe, I choose a late-afternoon visit when I know he’ll be at Exodus.
I purchase a small bouquet of sunflowers and a fresh nightgown.
Armed with my gifts, I gather up my courage and face the front desk, unsure they will let me in.
But I’ve already visited once. My name is still on the list of allowed visitors. It was never removed after our one visit.
I approach Allison’s room with trepidation, unsure if this is a good idea. How will I be received? Will she take one look at me and start screaming?
The nurse stands when I enter the small foyer. It reminds me of a place where visitors sit to watch animals at a zoo. Sit behind glass and watch the show. In spite of the beautiful interior, this is still a hospital.
“I remember you. You came to visit once with Ren,” the nurse says.
I’m sure my red hair makes me unforgettable. “Yes. Would it be all right if I try to visit with Allison? How is she today?”
“She’s had a tough morning, but she’s doing well now.”
“Is it okay?” I find myself hesitant to enter her inner sanctum.
“Of course. Visitors are good for the patients. We always encourage visits.”
“Thank you.”
Allison is sitting in her wheelchair in front of the TV.
Her eyes are staring into the distance. I move the chair for visitors so that I’m directly in her line of sight.
“Hi, Allison. I’m Bree. You don’t know me.
I’m a friend of Ren, your husband. I brought you some sunflowers because I know they’re your favorite. ”
I hold them in front of her until her eyes focus on the flowers. She stares at them for a long time. One hand tries to reach for them, but she can’t complete the movement.
“I’ll put them on your nightstand, okay? That way you can see them while you’re in bed.” The flowers are already in a water-filled glass vase, ready to go.
I sit in front of her again, letting my long red hair hang forward, hoping the color will catch her eyes.
It does. Her eyes follow the length of it as if fascinated.
I don’t know what else to do, so I start talking in soft tones, telling her about my life.
I start with the day I moved into 5201 Beachcomber Lane.
I figure it will take me several visits to get through my life story.
In the middle of my story, I reach out and place one hand on hers.
She doesn’t recoil. Instead, the most miraculous thing happens.
Her eyes meet mine. Like direct contact, as though she’s trying to tell me something.
I swear her eyes are so much more lucid than I’d imagined.
I keep talking, one hand on hers, sharing eye contact. I feel an immediate connection with her.
“You’re good with her, Miss Kingston. She likes you. Normally, a stranger sends her into a panic,” the nurse says.
I’m there for a full hour when Jack, Ren’s father, shows up.
“Bree?” he seems shocked. “What are you doing here?”
Is it my imagination, or does he seem unhappy with my presence? This is Ren’s wife. I suppose he’s allowed to feel protective.
“Just thought I’d visit Allison. Is that okay?”
“Of course. Human contact is good for her.”
The nurse chimes in. “Allison loves Miss Kingston. She’s great with her.”
“That’s kind of you, Bree. But I always feed her at this hour. It’s her dinnertime.”
“You always feed her dinner?” That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. “You’re amazing, Jack Chambers. It’s no wonder Ren is pretty amazing too. But I’ll be on my way and get out of your hair.”
Then I show the nightgown to Allison. “I bought you a new nightgown.” It’s beautiful, like a thin wisp of air on her skin.
Her hand reaches, but she can’t manage once again. So I bring it to her. Her fingertips brush the soft material lightly.
Allison is more aware than I thought. Maybe her periods of agitation hide what’s left of her personality.
“We’ll put it on her after dinner, Miss Kingston. Dinnertime can be a messy affair,” the nurse says.
As I stand to go, Allison grasps my wrist with the meager strength she possesses. I didn’t know she could do that.
“Oh my, she likes you. I’m Patty, by the way. Please come again. You have a comforting influence on Allison.”
“Call me Bree. I’ll come again tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
“Thanks, Bree,” Jack says. “Good of you.” He offers me a polite nod.
I can’t help myself. I give him a huge hug. “I see why Ren is the man he is with you for a father.”
I never had a father. Jack reminds me of how much I missed.
Jack actually blushes. “You’re a good one, Bree. My son is smart enough to see it.”
“Does…does Ren have to know I was here? I don’t want to upset him.”
“I’m family, and I approve of your visits, especially since you’re good with her. Tell you what, I won’t say anything unless he asks. If he asks, I won’t lie to him.”
“Fair enough.”
Patty shrugs. “I can’t override a family member’s decision.”
“May I ask, where are Allison’s parents?” I’ve been wondering.
“They said their goodbyes,” Jack shakes his head, “and they refuse to visit again. Crying shame, if you ask me. But nobody does.”
That’s when I take my leave. I loved visiting Allison. It made me feel like part of Ren’s family.
It made me feel needed. I love to feel needed.
I plan to visit often. But as I’m walking away, I hear Allison shriek. I run back to her room, only to find that she has pushed the bowl of mush—that doesn’t look appetizing at all—and it has landed on the tile. Upside down, a pile of oozing goo slowly moving across the floor.
“Allison doesn’t love mealtime,” Patty mumbles under her breath.
Yeah. If I was being fed food that has been through a blender several times, I would hate it too. I imagine eating normally is impossible in her state.
As for Ren’s sweet father, he looks angry and frustrated as he attempts to clean up the mess. “Get her a new dinner,” he snaps at Patty.
He looks up at me standing there, staring at the mess. For just a moment, his eyes are dead, cold as ice.
I can’t suppress a shiver. “Is everything okay?” I ask. Dumb question. Obviously, it’s not okay.
“I’ve got this, Bree. You can go.” His tone is stern, almost demanding.
Huh. Does he have a temper? I never got that vibe from him the first day I met him.
Surely not. I just caught him at a bad moment. We all have them.
ON HALLOWEEN, I turn off all my lights and hide upstairs in my bedroom.
I continue visiting Allison, but I make a point to leave before Jack arrives. It’s best to not get too attached to Ren’s family.