MAGGIE ELIZABETH FOSTER passed away on Wednesday, two days after her daughter Carrie arrived home. When the doctor determined that Maggie’s time was near, Martin called his oldest daughter, Alexis, and all three girls were at their mother’s bedside. She slipped quietly into the next world with each of her daughters proclaiming that they, too, could see the smile their father claimed to have seen on Monday.
Aurora Spindell was called to the house, and the four women cried and laughed and comforted the man Maggie had left behind. Aurora had never known the Maggie that the family knew, but because she loved Martin, a fact that she kept secret from the family but Carrie knew right away, Aurora understood and appreciated the kind of woman Maggie had been.
Preparations were quickly organized for a funeral two days later, on a beautiful, sunny Friday. Pallbearers were members of Martin’s medical community, his son-in-law, Daniel Chandler, and his future son-in-law, Liam Manning. Maggie’s two grandchildren, Lizzie and Wesley, walked somberly behind the casket, followed by their mothers and aunt.
Aurora offered her home, the charmingly renovated Victorian bed-and-breakfast, for an after-funeral brunch. With nearly one hundred people from Fox Creek and surrounding areas attending, the home could not accommodate all who wanted to express their sympathy to Martin. The well-wishers spilled out into Aurora’s yard and sunroom until the winter sun began to fade.
Guests left, temporary help tidied the mess and soon only the immediate family remained to see Martin through the rest of this difficult day. Standing in the entrance to the sunroom, Carrie was the only one to see her father’s hand slip without ceremony into Aurora’s comforting grasp as they stood looking over the acreage in the dusky shadows.
Aurora’s Attic, the place was called, and Carrie found comfort surrounded by the charm of old china settings and images of angels on the walls. Perhaps Aurora was an angel herself. She had helped her sisters find their loves, and she would help her father through his grief. What more noble purpose was there for an angel?
By six thirty the sky was dark. The family thanked Aurora and prepared to go back to Dancing Falls.
“I’d like to stay for a while, Daddy,” Carrie said. “I have my car, and I’ll be home soon.”
“I shouldn’t let you drive when you’re still wearing the boot.”
Carrie shook her head. “You know I could quit using the boot anytime, and besides, it’s less than half a mile.”
He looked to Aurora for consent, and his friend nodded. “I think Carrie and I need some time alone,” she said.
“If you’re sure, Carrie,” Martin said.
“Yes, Daddy, I’m sure.” Since the funeral had been planned at the same time as her doctor’s appointment, she had rescheduled for Monday. What difference would one more weekend make in her recuperation? She’d been conscious of the boot all day as if relinquishing it in three days signaled an end to much more than simply a broken leg.
When the house was quiet, Aurora made tea and served it in delicate china cups in her parlor. At the last moment, she went to a cabinet and withdrew a bottle of brandy. “It’s the best quality,” she said. “I’ve never opened it, but bought it months ago thinking there might come a time.” She took off the cap. “I don’t know about you, dear, but I think that time has come.”
The two women sat in comfortable silence for minutes until at last Aurora spoke. “I never knew you as well as I did your sisters. I regret that. Sometimes I felt that you needed your mother more than the other two did. I know your pathway with Martin hasn’t always been an easy one.”
Carrie smiled. “No, it hasn’t. My mother understood my desire to be independent and follow my dreams. Daddy never quite got that. No one did, really, until…”
Aurora set her teacup on an end table. Her shoulders relaxed with a deep exhalation of breath. “Do you want to talk about him, Carrie? I am very happy to listen.”
She did want to talk about him, and in the waning hours of a trying and sad day, she told Aurora her story.
* * *
AT FIVE O’CLOCK on Friday afternoon, JFK Airport was as bustling as Keegan had ever seen it. People rushing to weekend destinations, people heading somewhere hoping to find something better than they were leaving, executives going home after business trips. Keegan figured few of the multitude were adventurers hoping to get the last remaining seats on the last remaining flight to a civil war.
The flight was boarding in a half hour. Butch had gone into a bar to either pump some liquid courage into his blood for what they’d be facing, or to accentuate the thrill he was feeling at being back behind his camera. Keegan had passed on bar time. He’d probably drain a couple of ounce-sized liquor bottles on the plane and then try to sleep for the eleven-hour flight. Once they landed, renting a decent car and traveling into hostile territory would be the real test of their commitment to this story.
Boarding the flight from the Cleveland airport the day before hadn’t been easy. Keegan remembered his last trip to the airport, when he and Carrie had met his son. He recalled his frustration at Carrie for interfering in his life, and later his gratitude that she’d done it. Waiting to connect to JFK, Keegan recalled, too, his last conversation with Taylor. “It’s just one more time, kid, I swear,” he’d promised. “I wouldn’t be doing this except I owe Butch a lot.”
“More than you owe me, Dad?” Taylor had said. “You promised you were done with this life.”
“I know. I’m sorry. This is the last time. I’ll call you when I can.”
Now, sitting in an uncomfortable vinyl chair waiting to sit in an even more uncomfortable narrow seat with little leg room, he contemplated his relationship with his son. He’d have to make this up to Taylor. And then his mind strayed to his worst infidelity, his betrayal of Carrie.
While in Cleveland, his mind had played tricks on him, causing him to imagine where she was, what she was doing. He’d looked up her hometown of Fox Creek and knew it was close to the airport. He could forget this whole thing with Butch, rent a car and be looking into Carrie’s eyes again in less than a half hour.
And then his rational side took over. He was leaving because of her, because he wasn’t what she needed in her life. They had no future. She needed someone who would share her beliefs in the goodness of man and the powers of nature. Keegan Breen wasn’t that person, and the sooner he cut off ties with her, the better her life would be.
But damn, he loved her. And now, sitting for the last few minutes at JFK, the doubts haunted Keegan once more. He closed his eyes tightly. Her face, so beautiful, so serene, appeared in his mind. Who really knew what the future held? If people waited for secure, guaranteed futures, would there ever be marriages or children? Could love be enough? What could he offer her to show he could be a changed man, that he had, in fact, already started the difficult journey toward normalcy because of her influence?
Didn’t he owe it to himself to try? He wasn’t such a lost cause that he didn’t deserve one chance at a future that held promise. One last trip to a battle zone paled in comparison to the shot at a lasting future he never thought he’d have.
He thought about what he could give her, how he could show his devotion and his willingness to try. And he smiled when he decided upon the exact thing he could offer her. Maybe it would work. Or maybe she didn’t want to see him again. But he had to try. Even if he failed, he would know he had tried. With a great burden lifted from his shoulders and a spark of his own optimism burning inside his chest, Keegan hitched his duffel bag over his shoulder and strode to the bar.
Butch looked up from a half glass of ale. “Time to go?” he asked.
“I’m not going,” Keegan said.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“I’m sorry, Butch. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. We’ve been through a lot together, but I can’t do it again…”
“It’s that woman, isn’t it? The one drawing the pictures?”
Keegan nodded. “I don’t know. I think so. I just have to see what the future could hold with her. I always thought I could handle loneliness, but these last few days showed me what loneliness really is. And I didn’t handle it all that well. If she’ll have me, I want her back.”
“I’m sorry you’re not going,” Butch said. His voice held no hint of anger, just an edge of disappointment. “I’m not surprised, though.” He chuckled. “Well, since we are at the airport just minutes away from taking off, maybe a little surprised. I don’t know where I’ll find another reporter.”
Keegan put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “When you get there, just lead with your name. There isn’t a word jockey anywhere in the world who wouldn’t jump at the chance to work with you.”
“What are your plans now?” Butch asked. “You going back to that campground?”
“I just might be,” Keegan said. “It really isn’t such a bad place to live.” He grinned. “Needs a few more trees, though.”
The two men embraced, and Keegan strode off to the nearest ticket counter. He bought the last seat on the first plane back to Cleveland and had to run to catch the flight.
* * *
WHILE WAITING ON the tarmac for the plane to take off, Keegan used his phone to locate Dr. Martin Foster. After storing the address, he pressed Connect to phone the home. He’d considered not calling first, but there were too many variables. What if Carrie wasn’t home? What if she didn’t want to see him? What if his last surprise had left her suspicious of anything he might do again? Since he didn’t have Carrie’s cell number, he hoped to reach her this way.
“Hello.” The voice that answered was that of a child.
“Hello,” Keegan said. “Is Carrie there?”
“You mean Aunt Carrie?”
Keegan smiled. “Yes, that’s right. You must be Wesley.”
“I am. Who are you?”
“I’m a friend of your aunt Carrie’s. I’d really like to talk to her.”
“She’s next door at Miss Aurora’s. It’s one of those places where people sleep and then get a free breakfast.”
Ah, a bed-and-breakfast. “When will she be home? Do you know?”
“No. Maybe she’ll sleep there and get the breakfast. Everyone’s sad today because my grandma died.”
Oh, no. Carrie was dealing with her mother’s death. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Carrie was carrying a burden of grief as well as the emotions she must be experiencing about him. But at least she was among people who loved her.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
The flight attendant walked down the aisle, telling passengers to disconnect their electronic devices.
“I have to hang up,” Keegan said.
“Okay, bye.” The line went dead. And since he was already on the plane and they were in position to take off, Keegan decided he’d take his chances with a surprise visit. Finding a bed-and-breakfast next door to Dancing Falls shouldn’t be too difficult. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Could be worse. If Carrie wouldn’t see him, at least he’d have a place to stay and a free breakfast.