Дэвид Балдаччи - One Summer

His gaze held on Lizzie as she closed up the van, and then turned, not toward the house, but away from it. Jack hadn’t noticed the person approach her because his attention had been on his wife. The man came into focus; it was Bill Miller. They’d all gone to school together. Bill had blocked on the line for Jack the quarterback. He’d attended Jack and Lizzie’s wedding. Bill was single, in the plumbing business, and doing well.

Jack pressed his face to the glass when he saw Bill draw close to his wife. Lizzie slipped her purse over her shoulder and swiped the hair out of her eyes. They were so close to one another, Jack couldn’t find even a sliver of darkness between them. His breath was fogging the glass, he was so near it. He watched Bill lean in toward Lizzie. He saw his wife rise up on tiptoe. And then Bill staggered back as Lizzie slapped him across the face. Though he was weak, Jack reared up in his chair as though he wanted to go and defend his wife’s honor. Yet there was no need. Bill Miller stumbled off into the darkness as Lizzie turned away and marched toward the house.

A minute later he heard Lizzie come in, knocking snow off her boots.

Lizzie strode into the den, first pulling off her scarf and then rubbing her hands together because of the cold. Her face was flushed, and she didn’t look at him like she normally did. “Time for the presents; then Mom and Dad are going to take off. They’ll be back tomorrow, okay, sweetie? It’ll be a great day.”

“How’s your hand?”

She glanced at him. “What?”

He pointed to the window. “I think Bill’s lucky he’s still conscious.”

“He was also drunk, or I don’t think he would’ve tried that. Idiot.”

Jack started to say something, but then stopped and looked away. Lizzie quickly picked up on this and sat next to him.

“Jack, you don’t think that Bill and I—”

He gripped her hand. “Of course not. Don’t be crazy.” He kissed her cheek.

“So what then? Something’s bothering you.”

“You’re young, and you have three kids.”

“That I get.” She attempted a smile that flickered out when she saw the earnest look on his face.

“You need somebody in your life.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.” She tried to rise, but he held her back.

“Lizzie, look at me. Look at me.”

She turned to face him, her eyes glimmering with tears.

“You will find someone else.”

“No.”

“You will.”

“I’ve got a full life. I’ve got no room for—”

“Yes, you do.”

“Do we have to talk about this now? It’s Christmas Eve.”

“I can’t be picky about timing, Lizzie,” he said, a little out of breath.

Her face flushed. “I didn’t mean that. I... you look better tonight. Maybe... the doctors—”

“No, Lizzie. No,” he said firmly. “That can’t happen. We’re past that stage, honey.” He sucked on his air, his gaze resolutely on her.

She put a hand to her eyes. “If I think about things like that, then it means, I don’t want to... You might...”

He held her. “Things will work out all right. Just take it slow. And be happy.” He made her look at him, and he brushed the tears from her eyes. He took a long pull on his oxygen and managed a grin. “And for God’s sake, don’t pick Bill.”

She laughed. And then it turned into a sob as he held her.

When they pulled away a few moments later, Lizzie wiped her nose with a tissue and said, “I was actually thinking about next summer. And I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Jack’s heart was buoyed by the fact that she still sought out his opinion. “What about it?”

“You’ll probably think it’s silly.”

“Tell me.”

“I was thinking I would take the kids to the Palace.”

“The Palace? You haven’t been back there since—”

“I know. I know. I just think it’s time. It’s in bad shape from what I heard. I know it needs a lot of work. But just for one summer it should be fine.”

“I know how hard that was for you.”

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a photo. She showed it to Jack. “Haven’t looked at that in years. Do you remember me showing it to you?”

It was a photo of the O’Tooles when the kids were all little.

“That’s Tillie next to you. Your twin sister.”

“Mom said she never could tell us apart.”

Jack had to sit back against his pillow and drew several long breaths on his line while Lizzie patiently waited.

Finally he said, “She was five when she died?”

“Almost six. Meningitis. Nothing the doctors could do.” She glanced briefly at Jack, and then looked away. Her unspoken thought could have been, Just like you.

“I remember my parents telling me that Tillie had gone to Heaven.” She smiled at the same time a couple of tears slid down her cheeks. “There’s an old lighthouse on the property down there. It was so beautiful.”

“I remember you telling me about it. Your grandmother... still owns the Palace, right?”

“Yes. I was going to ask her if it would be all right if we went down there this summer.”

“The O’Tooles exchanging the sunny ocean for cold Cleveland?” He coughed several times, and Lizzie went to adjust his air level. When she did so he started breathing easier.

She said, “Well, I think leaving the Palace was because of me.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never really told you about this before, and maybe I’d forgotten it myself. But I’ve been thinking about Tillie lately.” She faltered.

“Lizzie, please tell me.”

She turned to face him. “When my parents told me my sister had gone to Heaven, I... I wanted to find her. I didn’t really understand that she was dead. I knew that Heaven was in the sky. So I started looking for, well, looking for Heaven to find Tillie.”

“You were just a little kid.”

“I would go up in the lighthouse. Back then it still worked. And I’d look for Heaven, for Tillie really, with the help of the light.” She paused and let out a little sob. “Never found either one.”

Jack held her. “It’s okay, Lizzie; it’s okay,” he said softly.

She wiped her eyes on his shirt and said, “It became a sort of obsession, I guess. I don’t know why. But every day that went by and I couldn’t find her, it just hurt so bad. And when I got older, my parents told me that Tillie was dead. Well, it didn’t help much.” She paused. “I can’t believe I never told you all this before. But I guess I was a little ashamed.”

His wife’s distress was taking a toll on Jack. He breathed deeply for several seconds before saying, “You lost your twin. You were just a little kid.”

“By the time we moved to Ohio, I knew I would never find her by looking at the sky. I knew she was gone. And the lighthouse wasn’t working anymore anyway. But I think my parents, my mom especially, wanted to get me away from the place. She didn’t think it was good for me. But it was just... silly.”

“It was what you were feeling, Lizzie.” He touched his chest. “Here.”

“I know. So I thought I’d go back there. See the place. Let the kids experience how I grew up.” She looked at him.

“Great idea,” Jack gasped.

She rubbed his shoulder. “You might enjoy it too. You could really fix the place up. Even make the lighthouse work again.” It was so evident she desperately wanted to believe this could actually happen.

He attempted a smile. “Yeah.”

The looks on both their faces were clear despite the hopeful words.

Jack would never see the Palace.

Later that night his father-in-law helped Jack into a wheelchair and rolled him into the living room, where their little tree stood. It was silver tinsel with blue and red ornaments. Jack usually got a real tree for Christmas, but not this year of course.