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Brendan checked his reflection in the mirror. As a man that was prone to wearing short-sleeved polos and jeans for his practice, this was a more refined look. He had on a suit coat, pressed shirt, and dress pants. Not sure why it mattered, he wanted to present his best front this morning. After talking with Nancy two days ago, he had asked Margaret to facilitate a meeting with Carl Swifett on the ranch this morning. They were t-minus forty-five minutes to said meeting, and he needed to be on the way.
As he drove, he couldn’t help but notice how fabulous the weather was. There were clear skies as far you could see with Lake Michigan providing the backdrop to crops and orchards in the distance. He took this as a sign that today was going to be a success, whatever that definition looked like in a situation like this.
“I have to let go,” he said to Caty, as he wanted to talk to her in these moments. “It’s time I move on to whatever those next chapters look like for me.”
“I don’t love you any less, but this anger is going to shorten my life and rob the girls of the father I could be.”
He didn’t expect an answer, but as the sun hit his face, he imagined his sweet Caty staring down at him and smiling. She had faced every challenge in life with a zest that he didn’t find in many people, and missing her was something he was confident he would live with every day. The moments he didn’t think about her had grown into days, though. He half wondered after talking with Jake last night if the anger was his way of erroneously hanging on to her for fear of what came next. He did want to meet someone and wasn’t overly surprised when Nancy’s face popped into his mind.
Over these trying last couple of weeks, she had been a rock. She was even-keeled and already showed to be ferociously protective of him as her boss and friend. Caty would have loved her strength, and yet she wielded the patience of Job when dealing with difficult patients. His mind over the last couple of days had started to see the good and the possibilities around him, as the grey clouds of anger began to subside.
As the ranch came into view, he tried to pull himself together. “Help me know what the right thing is today, give me a sign or something,” he pleaded to Caty. He found his hands shaking and knew the magnitude of this moment, as he disembarked from the truck and headed towards the building where Margaret’s office was housed.
As he started to stroll up the walkway, Jake was right there and stepped forward to tap him on the back.
“Margaret thought you might need a friend,” he said, by way of explanation.
Matthew crossed his path, coming from the outer building, wearing a big smile.
“Hi buddy,” Brendan said, “how are you doing today?”
“Good. Margaret said she wouldn’t ever make Babe into food,” he said, looking a bit worried. “You know they made Sir Lancelot into bacon yesterday.”
“Ah, slaughter season on a farm is tough, huh?”
“Yeah, so I made her pinky swear Babe would never become lamb chops,” Matthew said, as his bottom lip dropped.
“Yep, she made me member Grandma Gracie always used to tell us, there is a season for everything. Margaret said it is a time to kill right now so we can all eat, but Babe is here because it is her time to heal other people.”
Brendan felt the words resonate throughout his system, as he glanced skyward, he realized he just got his message.
“Thank you, Matthew,” he said, with glistening eyes.
“You’re welcome,” he said happily and continued away from him with Babe on his heels.
Jake looked at him, “are you ready?”
“No time like the present,” he said, and in step, they finished walking to Margaret’s office.
With a final deep intake of breath, Brendan pushed open the door. He was waiting for the emotions to take hold, but as Carl came into view with his downturned face and rounded shoulders, the anger never surfaced. He came to a stop at the nearest chair in the grouping of four.
“Dr. Rosio,” Carl said, with a polite nod.
“Carl,” he said, and extended his hand. “Call me Brendan; we are just two men here to talk.”
Carl looked up at him as his bottom lip quivered, and he reached his hand out to land it in his hand. Brendan gasped when he saw the digits tattooed at his wrist. It was the date Catelyn was killed.
He glanced up at Carl with a question in his eyes.
“I wanted to be sure, I never forgot for one single moment,” Carl said, more resolute than Brendan had ever seen him.
He nodded, releasing the other man’s hand and finally took a seat. Sadness pervaded his soul, and with it hope. The anger never reared its head, and as Margaret tentatively started to mediate the conversation, Brendan lightly closed his eyes and knew it was going to be okay. From this moment forward, it would be okay.
