Chapter 20
At ten o’clock on Friday morning, the car was making its way to Baker Beach. Sitting next to Thomas, Raymond lovingly placed his hand over his son’s.
“We’re lucky the weather’s nice,” he said.
Thomas stayed quiet.
“Did your evening end well?”
“Couldn’t have gone better.”
“Ah, and who gets the credit for that?” his father asked. “She certainly could drink, though. Then again, who could blame her? You chose an excellent vintage.”
“You taught me how to choose a good wine.”
“Really? I had forgotten.”
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Thomas mumbled.
“I know. I’ll miss you too. But now it’s my chance to watch over you. We each get a turn.”
“Will you be happy there?”
“Don’t worry, I know how to make myself content.
I spent my whole life chasing little moments of happiness, and I even managed to enjoy a few, including the day you were born.
I’ll do just fine. How do you think I was able to arrange this leave in the first place?
Do you know anyone more resourceful than your dad? ”
“I certainly don’t know anyone who has more pride. I got that from you too.”
“Just be careful to keep it in check, son.”
The car got as close as possible to the water, coming to a stop in the deserted Baker Beach parking lot. This time, Thomas told the driver not to wait.
He opened the door, grabbed his suitcase, and gestured to his father to follow.
They stepped onto the sand. Raymond looked around and pointed to a dune.
“Up there would be perfect,” he said.
Thomas had begun climbing when his phone vibrated in his pocket.
“Where are you?” Manon asked.
“At Baker Beach,” he answered.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, tops.”
“I think I should be alone.”
“I know what you’re about to do. I read your letter.”
“Are you familiar with the crazy guy who wrote it?”
“I met a pianist once who promised me that any story, no matter how crazy, could become real if two people believed in it together. I want him to keep that promise. You were there for Mom; I want to be there for your father. Wait for me.”
Raymond was taking in the view from the top of the dune. Thomas joined him and sat down.
“It’s considered rude to make a lady wait, and yet we spend our whole lives waiting for them. It’s unfair, but what can we do?”
“So, you listen to my phone calls now too?”
“It’s not my fault. Sound waves work in mysterious ways. Speaking of which, it’s strange, but I can hear music in my head.”
“It might be the melody I composed last night.”
“So, you’re a composer now?”
“I always have been, I’ve just never let anyone listen.”
“You’re wrong to keep it to yourself. It’s beautiful. It sounds like the refrain of a song. Have you given it a title?”
Thomas told him that he had. “‘Ghost in Love.’”
Raymond looked at his son with the lopsided smile he always used to hide his feelings.
The two of them sat there, side by side, in total silence. Every now and then, Thomas would look at his watch, and his father would tell him not to worry. She was on her way. And the more time passed, the more Raymond perked up.
“There she is,” he suddenly exclaimed. “Get up and welcome her. It’s the least you can do. And dust off the bottom of your pants, they’re covered in sand.”
Manon was wearing black jeans and a tailored white top. She carried a big linen bag over her shoulder that added a touch of elegance to her delicate appearance.
She climbed up the dune and arrived breathless at the top.
“I drove as fast as I could,” she said, placing her bag down next to Thomas’s.
He watched her without a word, and she came forward and kissed him.
“You were right, I remember everything now. I read Mom’s letters last night, and your letter, too, and . . .”
She looked at the bags at their feet, their handles already entangled.
“I don’t really know how to accomplish their last wishes,” she said.
Thomas leaned over and took out his father’s urn. Manon did the same with her mother’s.
“I went to get her for this last trip. Dad was adamantly against it, but I didn’t really give him a choice.
We fought and he’ll be mad at me for weeks, but he’ll get over it.
He’s never been able to hold a grudge for long when it comes to me.
Do we need to say anything in particular? ” she asked worriedly.
Raymond gestured to Thomas that there was no need. Time was running out. But this time, Thomas was the one who did as he pleased.
“No one should be asked to bury their parents twice—not even by their parents. So, we’re going to do things differently this time.”
“Is he here?” Manon asked.
Thomas nodded. Raymond was watching them, his impatience palpable.
“And Mom, do you see her?”
“No, but he says she’s here too. Let’s open the urns. He can barely hold still.”
They took out the vessels carefully. Thomas poured his father’s ashes into Camille’s urn and announced, “By the powers you vested in us, we declare you united for all eternity.”
Manon looked at him for a long moment, seemingly close to laughter.
“You forgot to say they could kiss. That usually comes next,” she said.
Then Thomas gave the urn a good shake, just like his father had asked him to do.
As Manon scattered their ashes, Camille’s silhouette appeared on the beach. She was radiant as she took her summer companion passionately in her arms.
“Well, I think we’re all set for the kiss,” Thomas announced.
Camille and Raymond turned toward their children. They both seemed so happy that Thomas couldn’t help but smile. But Manon was watching only her pianist.
The two silhouettes began to fade slowly. Just before disappearing, Raymond asked Camille to excuse him for a moment so he could share a final word with his son.
He walked over to Thomas and whispered in his ear, “There is one thing I never said enough. It’s the heart of everything, though, and the obvious answer to your question.
I can’t believe it took me so long to figure it out.
Masculine bravado can go to hell, because heaven is the place where you say, I love you, son.
That’s what it means to be a father, and I will always be yours. For all eternity.”