Epilogue
I
Tanner stopped at a drive-through for three ham biscuits on Friday morning. He was on his way to Jasper’s, and he got one for Jasper, one for himself, and one for Arlo. According to Jasper, the dog deserved a reward for doing what he’d done, but Tanner had already figured out that sandwiches were a regular staple of both Jasper’s and Arlo’s diets.
At the cabin, Tanner let himself in, just as he had the day before. He helped Jasper get dressed and into the wheelchair before rolling him to the kitchen and starting a pot of coffee. When it was ready, Tanner poured two cups and brought them to the table, along with the ham biscuits. Arlo wolfed his down in two rapid gulps before poking his nose at Tanner’s pocket, looking for more; Tanner ate his own at a more reasonable pace. Jasper, meanwhile, only finished half of his before setting it aside. Tanner wrapped the remainder and put it in the refrigerator in case Jasper got hungry later, though if the last couple of days were any indication, Jasper wouldn’t eat again until Tanner heated up a can of soup or chili for dinner.
After breakfast, he wheeled Jasper out to the front porch with Arlo on their heels. Because the morning still carried a nip in the air, he’d persuaded Jasper to wear a jacket and hat and also made sure to drape a blanket over his legs. Kaitlyn and Dr. Betters had warned him that Jasper’s prolonged exposure to the elements, and the related shock, had likely triggered a severe autoimmune system response; he would have to be monitored closely. The psoriasis on Jasper’s neck, chest, and arms remained even more inflamed than usual, and the knuckles of his right hand had swollen suddenly to nearly twice their normal size. Neither Kaitlyn nor Dr. Betters could tell Tanner when, or even if, the inflammation and swelling would subside. Tanner found it hard to believe that Jasper didn’t once complain about any of it.
Taking a seat in one of the rockers, Tanner glanced over at Jasper, marveling at what a pleasure it was to spend time with the old man. He hadn’t known what to expect—he remembered pausing outside Jasper’s hospital room door to prepare himself in case the conversation went sour. But the old man had greeted him with kindness in his eyes, stretching out his hand without a word. Tanner took it in his own and it was clear that Jasper didn’t want to let go.
“You found me,” Jasper finally rasped.
“Yeah,” Tanner said, a smile spreading across his face. “I guess I did. In more ways than one.”
Tanner stayed with Jasper for three hours that night. Kaitlyn had arranged for a rapid DNA test, just to be sure, but both Jasper and Tanner seemed to feel they knew, somehow, what it would reveal, beyond any doubt.
Because Jasper was still recovering, Tanner did most of the talking. He traced the chronology of his life, from his upbringing overseas, to his military service, to the security work abroad and the long road trip he made in the aftermath of Covid. He told Jasper about the last few months he’d spent taking care of his grandmother, including her deathbed revelation that had brought him to Asheboro.
Unexpectedly, Tanner even found himself sharing his growing ambivalence about returning to Cameroon. He’d confessed how connected he felt to Casey and Mitch, despite their short acquaintance. When it came to Kaitlyn, he tried to skirt around his feelings for her, but Jasper interrupted.
“You love her,” Jasper said. “I can see it in your eyes. You should tell her how you feel.”
Tanner was at a loss for words, and that night, he barely slept at all.
Tanner sat in the waiting room while Jasper underwent surgery the next morning and he spent the rest of the afternoon in Jasper’s room as he recovered. While Jasper slept, Tanner arranged for the rental of a wheelchair. He also placed orders for lumber, plywood, and tools to be delivered to the cabin the following day.
By the time Jasper was released from the hospital on Wednesday, Tanner had also exchanged his rental car for a larger SUV, and he lifted Jasper into the passenger seat before storing the wheelchair in the back. They picked up Arlo from Kaitlyn’s on the way to the cabin. As they pulled up the gravel drive, Tanner saw that the construction supplies had already been delivered.
Tanner spent much of the rest of the afternoon and evening constructing a temporary ramp from the porch to the gravel. While he worked, Jasper told him his story.
Sitting in his wheelchair while Tanner hammered and sawed, he talked of peaches and whittling and Bible verses and a grandfather who’d once witnessed fish falling from the sky. He described the gentle confidence of his father, and the devastation he experienced at his sudden passing. His face glowed with love and wonder while he recounted how Audrey had jumped into his truck. He spoke about hunting for morels, their first kiss, and how hard it had been to say goodbye when she went off to college. Tanner listened closely as Jasper explained his early business success with Bradford pear trees. Mostly, though, Jasper dwelled on the family he and Audrey had raised, sharing stories about each of the four children. And of course, he especially spoke of David—vividly, and in great detail. It made Tanner long for more details of his mother in a way he never had before.
After Tanner had completed all but the railings of the ramp, Jasper directed him to the storage shed and asked him to retrieve the box containing family photos that had been at the cabin, not the house, when the house had burned. Tanner had peered closely at photos of David, stunned by the resemblance. Tanner had his father’s nose and chin, and catching Jasper’s eye as they bent over the old pictures, he knew that the old man had recognized the resemblance as well. How strange, Tanner reflected, to find comfort in a part of your history you never knew you were missing.
It wasn’t until yesterday, however, that Jasper related the rest of his story—the tragic conclusion to his once-blessed life, parts of which Tanner had heard from the sheriff. The tornado acting like the finger of God, which destroyed his business. The fire. Paul’s suicide. Jasper’s months in the burn ward and all the surgeries that followed. Chronic psoriasis, proving that God had turned His back on him, once and for all.
But there were more recent glimpses of joy, he discovered: Carving with Mitch. The sighting of the white deer, which he believed to be a sign from the heavens. And, of course, Tanner’s sudden appearance in his life, something he’d never imagined in his wildest dreams.
When Tanner returned to the hotel at night, he lay in bed thinking about the old man’s love for his wife and family, which transcended even his incomprehensible losses. It made him think of Kaitlyn and her children, and the home they’d made together. He had a visceral memory of making love to her, the sensations encoded at a cellular level. Mostly, though, he missed the way he felt about himself whenever they’d been together—as if he were connected to a deeper root system, a foundation he’d never known before.
You love her. You should tell her how you feel.
Jasper’s words ran through his mind on a constant loop. He’d had his chance already. Kaitlyn had come by the cabin yesterday evening to check Jasper’s vitals and examine his swollen knuckles and psoriasis. She was polite with Tanner, but other than informing him that the DNA test had confirmed their relationship, that was it. On her way out, she’d simply reminded Tanner to call her if Jasper’s condition worsened. He’d watched her walk away, feeling an ache he hadn’t expected, disappointed in himself because he’d disappointed her. And, of course, he’d said nothing.
Now, as he sat with Jasper on the porch, he heard the old man clear his throat.
“Will you bring me to see my family?” Jasper asked.
Tanner carefully wheeled Jasper off the porch, down the ramp. Rolling through the compacted dirt was a little bumpy, but they took their time, finally reaching the small family cemetery. Up close, Tanner could see the names carved on the markers, and he paused to stare down at David’s, his hands clasped in front of him. I wish I’d had the chance to meet you.
Jasper, his head also bowed as he contemplated the markers, said nothing for a while. In the silence, Tanner put a hand on his grandfather’s shoulder, feeling a sense of comfort. He heard Jasper draw a deep breath, and watched as he slowly kneaded the blanket. Off to the side, Arlo was snuffling around the base of a tree.
“For a long time,” Jasper confessed, “I wished I’d died with them.”
Unable to respond, Tanner gently squeezed Jasper’s shoulder. In time, the older man went on.
“Sometimes, I still do. I come out here knowing that everything I once loved is gone and buried, and even after so much time has passed, my heart still feels as though it’s been broken into a million pieces. But…”
He looked up at Tanner, placing his own gnarled and swollen hand over Tanner’s.
“Then I remind myself that my broken heart also means that there was a time when it wasn’t broken, when my heart was light and full. Loving Audrey and my kids brought joy and meaning to my life, and I wouldn’t have traded that love for anything else in the world.”