Gideon wasn’t sure how much more he could take today. Ruth’s flushed cheeks and tearstained face implied the same. But as they stood outside Grace’s room hand in hand, Gideon squeezed, hoping to give her the strength he hadn’t been able to five years ago or five minutes ago.
He looked at her, and she nodded. Gideon grasped the doorknob and inched the door open. The sun had begun its descent, and its light and warmth filled the room. Dust bunnies danced atop the late-afternoon sunrays that filled the room. Gideon fought tears again as he remembered boxing up his daughter’s things.
“I’m sorry you had to do this alone.” Ruth pulled away from him and looked around the room. A tear rolled down her cheek. As in the other rooms, the furniture was covered with sheets, and boxes were along the wall.
“It’s okay.” Maybe it was the one thing that he’d spared his wife from.
Gideon closed his eyes and pictured Grace’s room as it had been. Some of her clothes hung from hooks along the rack on the far side of the room. Her rocking chair with her favorite faceless doll was in the corner. The bedspread Ruth had sewn and surprised Grace with on her tenth birthday was sage green with an ivory lace ruffle that met the wood floor on three sides.
Gideon sat on the bed and hoped he could keep his emotions in check.
Ruth shuffled to the rack where Grace’s clothes used to be, then she circled the room, touching the sheet-covered dresser, moving to the rocking chair, running her hand over the white covering. Gideon couldn’t stop watching her every movement, and even with her back to him, he knew she was also remembering the way their daughter’s room had looked.
She turned to face him. “Sometimes I-I forget what she looks like.” She hung her head, shaking it. “What kind of mother would forget her child’s face?”
Gideon offered a weak smile. “I see her every time I look at you.”
Ruth’s eyes clung to his. “I see her when I look at you too.” She looked away. “Back then, it was just too hard.”
Gideon walked to where she was standing near the window. “And now?”
Ruth held his gaze. “I still see her when I look at you, in your eyes.”
“Maybe it’s the reflection of yourself you see.” He smiled a little, which was nice to see again after the emotional afternoon they’d had.
Ruth froze in time, longing to move forward and terrified of moving backward. “We were so messed up during that time.” She kept her eyes on his, aware of the vulnerability he’d shown today and not wanting him to fall backward either. “But time does have a way of helping people look at things differently. And now, when I see her in your eyes, I don’t want to run away. I want to embrace the good memories and make new ones.”
Gideon nodded. “I went to counseling for a while, and it helped. But I’ve always felt like I needed closure for two things. Asking you to forgive me and coming back here.”
Ruth was glad to hear that Gideon had gone to a therapist. Her support group had helped her survive those first months in Florida and steadied her when the grief became overwhelming. “Me too. And now, here we are, facing the last two things on our emotional bucket lists.”
He smiled as he stared out the window. “Do you remember when Grace was in her second year of school, and she carried a wounded bird into the classroom in her apron pocket?”
Ruth chuckled. “Yes. The bird got loose and all the students were screaming trying to catch it. I can still remember hearing about it for weeks later.”
They were quiet for a few moments, both seemingly lost in their memories.
Gideon cleared his throat. “I was thinking we’d sell the house with the furniture in it and just remove our personal belongings.” He glanced around the room. “We’ll have to go through these boxes.”
Ruth walked over to the rocker. She pulled the sheet off and was surprised to see Grace’s doll sitting there. “I’d like to have the rocking chair in our bedroom if it’s okay with you. Or I can take this one if you want the other one.”
He eyed the chair for a few moments. Or maybe it was the doll he was staring at. “I’m fine taking this one. It seems the rocking chairs should stay in the family since they belonged to each of our grandmothers.”
For a few seconds they sounded like a normal husband and wife just making decisions together. Ruth reminded herself that wasn’t the case as she picked up Grace’s doll and held it to her chest.
“I can think of one person who might enjoy this doll, someone who would treasure it even as she gets older. And I’m sure there are some other things in the nightstand. Remember that little red suitcase Grace kept under the bed with her trinkets in it?”
Gideon smiled. “I think Becky would like the doll, too, and yes, how could I forget the little red suitcase.”
She walked toward him and as they faced each other, Ruth still clutching the doll, she gazed into his eyes as a warm feeling swept over her.
They’d been so in love. Then, poof. Gone. Everything. Yet something was bubbling to the surface between them.
Ruth got on her knees by the bed and pulled out the red suitcase, clumps of dust and dirt coming out with it. She coughed, then hauled it onto the bed. She’d found the piece of luggage in her grandmother’s attic when she was about Grace’s age and later gave it to her daughter.
“Grace said she kept her private things in here. I almost feel like we’re trespassing. But we have to know what’s in it, right? I mean, there might be other things Becky might like, or that we want to keep.” Ruth sat on the bed, brushing the dust off the suitcase. Gideon sat on the other side of the suitcase.
“Yeah, I think we should open it.”
Neither moved. They each rested a hand on top of the worn piece of luggage. Finally, Gideon popped the latch and slowly lifted the lid.
Ruth carefully reached for a piece of white paper with three stick figures drawn on it, two tall, one small in the middle. Smiling, she said, “I remember when she drew this in her first year of school.” She ran a finger along the sketch. “I never knew she kept it.”
“Look at this.” Gideon chuckled as he held up a ticket from the county fair. “I remember this day like it was yesterday.”
“That was a great day.” Ruth reached for a small teddy bear. “You won her this shooting those play guns filled with water.” She laughed. “You weren’t very good. It probably cost you twenty dollars to win a five-dollar bear.”
“Be nice.” He winked at her. “Those guns were on wobbly stands, and probably that way on purpose.”
Ruth raised a shoulder and dropped it slowly. “If you say so, dear.” Her chest tightened as she raised her eyes to Gideon’s. “Sorry. Old habit.”
She’d always used the endearment playfully, and she was surprised how easily it slipped out. She lowered her gaze and set the teddy bear aside. “I think I’d like to keep this, if that’s okay with you.” When she looked at him again, he nodded.
They shuffled through more of Grace’s keepsakes, laughing, remembering, and treasuring each of their daughter’s prized possessions.
“This feels good. Talking about her. Remembering. Laughing.” Ruth shook her head. “Maybe we should have done this a long time ago.”
Gideon looked around the room before he stood. “Grace would want us to go on with our lives. She wouldn’t want us to be sad forever.”
A phone rang in the living room with an unfamiliar ringtone, so she knew it was Gideon’s.
“It’s probably a good thing it rang, or I might have forgotten it.”
Ruth glanced around Grace’s room, then took the doll and followed Gideon downstairs to the living room. He chuckled. “Now I just have to find it.”
Instead of looking for his phone when they reached the bottom of the stairs, he turned back toward Ruth. She didn’t jump when he cupped one of her cheeks, looking at her as if seeing her for the first time. He lifted his other hand to her face as well.
“You are still as beautiful as ever.” He whispered the words as he tilted his head to one side. It had taken five years and a visit to their daughter’s room for her and Gideon to reconnect emotionally, but Ruth couldn’t deny the physical attraction still between them. They’d loved each other deeply for so many years.
She didn’t move when Gideon’s hands eased her closer. Ruth longed to feel his mouth on hers, a taste of the intimacy they’d shared as husband and wife. But just before his lips brushed against hers, Gideon’s phone beeped. It was sitting on the back of the couch close enough for Ruth to see the screen. Instinctively, her eyes darted toward the sound, and before she could look away her mind registered the words on the display.
Missed call from Cheryl. And below that was a text message. I miss you.
Ruth’s chest tightened and the doll slipped from her hand. Now she had a name to put with Gideon’s girlfriend, and she took a step away from him as he picked up the phone and glanced at the text. Ruth had almost done something horrible. She’d nearly kissed a man she no longer had a right to be with. Married or not, Gideon was involved with someone else.
Gideon looked up and walked toward her, his eyes widening in false innocence. “Ruth—”
“No.” Ruth shook her head, then she picked up the faceless doll. “You don’t owe me any explanations.” She bit her lip until she thought it might bleed. “I’m going to walk back to Esther’s.” She turned to leave, but Gideon grabbed her arm.
“It’s not what you think. It’s only been a few dates.”
She cringed at the word dates and fought the vision of Gideon in someone else’s arms. She shook loose of him and hurried to the front door. She didn’t turn around, even when he called out to her.
She’d barely made it out the door before she started to run.
Then the tears fell full force.