Chapter 15 Beacon #2
“And then he put me in charge. And as a reminder, I was ten,” said Bishop. “Anyway, it started smelling funny, so I got up and looked through the window in the oven door, and the whole bird was on fire. Apparently, you’re supposed to take the plastic wrapper off before you roast it.”
“Bishop screamed his little head off—”
“I didn’t scream. I yelled for help.”
“Right. So of course Dad came tearing down the stairs, with Mom behind him. She ran around him, pushed us out of the way, and—”
“It was like the fire extinguisher came out of nowhere. I decided she was a superhero that day.” The look on Bishop’s face was so sweet. I almost leaned over and kissed him.
“What happened next?” Anna asked.
“She turns around and looks from one of us to the other, then to Dad. Then she said, ‘Get the hell out of my kitchen.’ She seethed more than yelled, so we knew she was way beyond mad.”
“All Dad said was, ‘Come on, boys.’” Bishop lowered his head and laughed. “It took us forty minutes to find a place that was even open, and then when we asked if they served turkey, they literally made fun of us.”
“In all fairness to them, it was a sushi place,” said Kingston.
I was laughing harder than I had in months, until I saw the look on Lyra’s face. I couldn’t figure out if she was amused, sad, or not paying attention to the story.
“Maybe it’s good we never had a normal holiday,” I said. “We probably would’ve done worse.”
She nodded once, got up from the table, and left the room. Henry followed.
“I guess I said the wrong thing,” I mumbled. “I better go see if she’s all right.”
I stood and walked out of the kitchen like they had. Bishop was right behind me.
Lyra was standing at the big picture window, facing the lake. Henry had his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Lyra?”
She didn’t respond, so I walked closer.
“Look, I’m sorry. What I said in the kitchen was insensitive.”
“That isn’t it.” She looked at me with tears in her eyes. “It isn’t what you said, Katarina. I promise you.”
“Then, what’s wrong?”
“May I?” Henry asked her.
Lyra nodded, and he led her over to the sofa. When they both sat down, I rested on the arm of a chair. Bishop stood beside me.
“When I drove Mrs. Eggers up to her daughter’s the morning after we arrived, I met her and her husband. Both are professors at Syracuse University. They were talking to me about it, and I mentioned I used to teach ethics at Colgate.”
“Henry—”
“Let me finish, love.”
Lyra closed her mouth.
“To make a long story short, they told me about a position that recently became available and encouraged me to look into it.”
“And of course, he didn’t. So Mrs. Eggers called me about it, and when I mentioned her call to Henry, he said it wasn’t something he was interested in. Which was a lie.”
“It isn’t something I’m good at.”
Lyra patted his leg. “Ethics is your field.”
“So, I’m lost. Why were you crying?”
“Because we’ve never known normal, Katarina.
No normal holidays, no normal jobs, no normal anything.
” She sighed and looked up at Henry. “He gave up teaching, which he loved, for me. And now, there’s a position available at a university less than two hours from here, and he can’t even consider it because of me. ”
“Not because of you. Because of the situation,” said Henry.
“I’m so sorry,” Lyra said to him.
Henry took her hand and folded it in both of his. “Look at me.”
She wiped her eyes with her hand and raised her chin.
“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. I didn’t give anything up. I made a choice. I chose you, and I’ve never regretted a minute of our life together. Being with you, us being together, is all that’s ever mattered to me.”
He took her in his arms, and she cried harder. I got up to give them privacy. Bishop’s hand was on the small of my back as we walked toward the kitchen. As we were going in, Amaryllis was coming out. “General Anna says her troops are AWOL,” she said. “I’ve been sent to round you up.”
Behind us, Lyra chuckled. “We’re on our way.”
Thanksgiving dinner was served at sixteen hundred, and everything on the table looked perfect. By the time Anna called us to eat, the sun had disappeared behind Kane Mountain.
Every chair but one was full, and it was to the right of where Anna sat at the head of the table.
I’d expected my grandmother to take it, but she’d chosen the one at the opposite end.
Dagger and Givre took seats across from Hornet, Delfino, and Magnolia.
Kingston and Amaryllis sat on one side of Bishop, and I was on the other.
Lyra took the seat beside me, and Henry sat on her right.
Julian arrived last, wearing a dress shirt and tie. He took the empty seat beside Anna, and the two smiled. Not her type? I silently scoffed. I’d be willing to wager my babushka had it all wrong.
Platters were passed, and even after everyone filled their plates with seconds and thirds, there was still enough food to last a few days.
Anna and my grandmother told stories about Horatio and Mikhail, most of which I’d heard before, but few others at the table had. There was laughter and a few tears—not mine, of course.
“Tell them about the pistols, Polina.”
My grandmother groaned. “Must we?”
“Yes,” Anna said.
Julian set his fork down. “I’d like to hear this one.”
“You’ve heard it,” Babushka said.
“I’ve heard Anna’s version. I’d like to hear yours.”
“Horatio and Mikhail decided we should learn to shoot,” she began. “We were here for the summer, and the two of them drove to town that morning. When they returned, they had four pistols. Two for us, two for them. They marched us out behind the guest camps with a stack of tin cans.”
“And a bottle of vodka,” Anna added.
“They wanted you to shoot at the vodka?” Bishop asked.
“No, my brother and husband decided to get drunk while Anna and I shot at things.”
“Mikhail set up the cans,” Anna said. “Horatio explained the grip. Polina went first.”
“I missed every can.”
“Then it was my turn. Horatio stood behind me to correct my stance, then walked around to stand with Mikhail so I could fire.” Anna paused. “My first shot took the hat off his head.”
The conversation at the table stopped.
Kingston was the first to speak. “Accidentally?”
“She had been quite annoyed with him that morning,” Polina said.
“I had.”
“About what?” I asked.
“I don’t remember. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Horatio dove into the grass, Mikhail spilled the vodka, and I think one of them burned the hat.” Anna lifted her glass. “I was informed that my instruction was complete.”
“And mine resumed the following summer,” Polina said. “With a different instructor.”
“Julian was patient with us.” Anna rested her hand on his arm.
He smiled. “I had to be.”
My grandmother sat up straighter. “I am still a respectable shot, especially for my age.”
“It’s true,” Julian commented.
“And Anna?” I asked, trying to imagine the two of them out behind the camps.
“Anna is being modest.” Babushka’s eyes scrunched. “Anna is an excellent shot.”
Through it all, Bishop sat beside me, touching my arm or my leg, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
Henry stood near the end of the meal and raised his glass.
“They say that choices are the hinges of destiny. Looking around this room, it’s clear that the decisions we’ve made—the risks we’ve taken, the paths we’ve chosen, and even the ones we’ve avoided—have brought us exactly where we need to be.
Here’s to trusting our gut, taking the leap, and knowing that the choices we make are the right ones because we make them with our whole hearts. ”
After everything was cleaned and put away, I grabbed Horatio’s journal from where I’d left it and tucked it under my jacket.
Snow fell, not enough to stick, but to make everything pretty, on our walk to Ohkwari.
Neither Bishop nor I spoke, even after we were inside.
We moved around each other, getting ready for bed.
He banked the fire while I washed my face and brushed my teeth.
Then it was his turn. We got under the heavy blanket together, and Bishop pulled me into his arms.
“I keep thinking about Lyra and Henry,” I said, resting my head on his chest.
“Me too.”
“They gave up their whole lives. For Minerva. For our family. They never had children, Bishop. And Henry sat next to her today and told her he’d do it all again.”
Bishop was quiet long enough that I thought he wasn’t going to respond.
“I feel the same way he does,” he finally said. “Wherever you are is where I’m going to be.”
I didn’t say anything right away. I couldn’t.
“Kitten?”
“Thank you, Bishop,” I whispered.
“Any time. And I guess you know I mean it since I just said you’re never getting away from me.”
I laughed. How many times had I today when I doubted it was possible? I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Sweet dreams, my love,” I said when I was certain he was asleep.