Chapter 21
Maddy sat on her white Adirondack chair on her deck in the faint light of dawn. A hot cup of coffee was in her hands, and Boxer lay by her feet.
She hadn’t slept all night.
She thought of the woman on Peter’s phone. Why had she answered? Did she live there? Did she know about Maddy? Maybe he’d only come to Colorado out of pity after all. Maybe he’d told the woman all about her blindness, and they’d felt sorry for her. Maddy sighed. She wondered if she would ever be able to trust her instincts again. She remembered what Kate had said—her karma recognizing Peter’s.
The sleepy voices of birds came to her as she took another sip of coffee. She thought about what life with Peter would be like? How comfortable she’d felt by his side. He had that masculine way about him, his voice, his touch, and his mannerism; strong and powerful yet gentle enough to show kindness. That something inside him had stayed the same, the part that made her feel so secure. The man she had spent the day with was still charming and sweet, just as she had remembered. His smell—not the obvious smell of cologne, but a mixture of his soap and shampoo, his skin after a run, his hair after a swim, all so vivid in her mind. She remembered what his hands felt like in hers, how her body fit his perfectly. The kisses—
Boxer jumped to his feet and began to bark. She sat up and called out. “Who’s there?”
“Just me.” Ann Marsden came around the back of the house to the deck. “It’s okay, Boxer.” Ann walked up the steps and scratched Boxer’s ears, cooing at him, and his tail wagged. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“I’m not sick, if that’s what you mean.”
“I know you’re not.” Ann pulled one of the Adirondack chairs close and sat.
“Coffee, Mom?”
“Maybe later. I just wanted to catch you before work.”
Maddy sat quietly, Boxer nestled near her leg. “I’m sorry if I worried you. I didn’t mean to.”
“You didn’t.” Ann smiled softly, her eyes on Maddy’s face. “I think I suspected you wouldn’t be going in to school today. It’s all right. In all the years you’ve worked at that school not once have you taken a day off for yourself. I’ll make the call for you in a few minutes.”
“Kate and I called him, you know.”
Ann nodded. “What happened?”
“Some woman answered, and I hung up. Can you believe it? All these years I thought I was over him. It took me such a long time to get out of that depression when it came to him. But I did it and I was so proud of myself. Then it only took one day to send me back to Stage One again—when I think of all those years of therapy for nothing! Just when I had handled my feelings, they all come right up again like a backed-up sink waiting to erupt. I actually feel jealous. That woman who answered Peter’s phone—I don’t even know who she is, and I’m envying her. Does any of this make sense?”
“I guess it would if I were you.” Ann settled back in her chair and crossed her legs, smoothing her skirt over her knees.
“What am I supposed to think, Mom? Now I’m wondering if he just came to ease his conscience. One more thing on his to-do list.”
“Madeline, listen.” Ann clasped her hands. “It wasn’t until after Peter left and you went home that your father and I finally realized what he must be feeling. Dear, I can tell you this now, but you didn’t want to have this discussion when you first lost your sight. You were so angry, and we were very worried about you. Frankly, I thought—well, it’s in the past now.”
“You thought what, Mom?” Maddy pushed the hair back impatiently from her temples. “Tell me.”
“Your father and I thought that, given your state at the time—you were going to harm yourself.”
Maddy sighed and rested her head on her hand.
“You spent all day either crying or sleeping, darling. We didn’t know what to do. Every time I asked about Peter, you retreated further. We gave you space and waited days, weeks, months, and still there was no change.”
“I’m sorry.” Maddy put her hand on her mouth. “I know what I put you through.”
“That’s not my point.” Ann shook her head sadly. “I just want you to understand—we don’t always know the answers we think we do.” She looked away clasping her elbows in her hands. “If I told you that your father and I learned—” She hesitated.
Maddy reached out and gripped Ann’s wrist. “What? Did you learn something? Is it about Peter, why he came here after all this time? I can still hear his voice at the café as he wiped my chin after I spilled my coffee. I’m reaching for so many answers now, but I always come up empty. I can’t take this anxiety, Mom! My nerves are shot!”
Ann’s eyes darkened at the jittery tone of Maddy’s voice. She could still hear the hospital ringing with screams.
“Mom! What were you going to say? ‘If I told you your father and I’ what?”
Ann turned to Maddy and cupped her face in her hands. “I was going to say that your father and I did our best. We’re only sorry we couldn’t have spared you the pain and anguish we would have so gladly taken upon ourselves. You’re our daughter, Madeline. We brought you into this world believing we could shelter you from suffering forever. All parents believe that.” Ann shook her head. “But it simply doesn’t work that way.”
Maddy sat slowly back in her chair. “You and Daddy gave up everything to take care of me.” Her face was perfectly still as she turned toward Ann’s voice.
“We regret nothing, my dear.” Ann laid her hand on Maddy’s shoulder and stroked her hair. “We would do it all over again without question.”
“But I made it worse on you.” Maddy shook off Ann’s hand. “I didn’t let you call Peter to help care for me. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want him to see me the way I was. Pride, I know! But I couldn’t face him, because I wasn’t the same. I wasn’t the girl he had fallen in love with anymore.”
“Dear, you lost your sight, not yourself. You never changed.”
“I did! I hated myself!”
Ann stood abruptly. “I can’t stand to hear you talk like this—”
“I’m sorry, but it’s true. I wanted to die. I was so angry—with God—at everyone, for taking my happiness away. That’s what I felt.”
Ann paused to look down on Maddy’s shining brown head and then stepped to the deck rail. She took a deep breath. She folded her hands and stood, her head bowed and her eyes closed. She breathed slowly and lightly, her shoulders tight. After a moment, her shoulders loosened, and she opened her eyes. She sat beside Maddy again and took her hand. “Darling,” she said gently, “do you feel like that now?”
“Of course not. But it took me so many years. How could I have dragged Peter into a life like that, all that darkness? It wouldn’t have been fair. I loved him too much.” Maddy stood suddenly and covered her face with a sob. “That’s why I was so terrified of you writing to him. I didn’t want him to come.”
“You were afraid of what he might have done?” Ann looked up at her.
“I was afraid of what he would have done. I know him. He would have left everything behind for me. I am certain. It was the middle of the Vietnam War and his very life would have been in danger if he had left school for me.”
“Well, then.”
Maddy put out a hand and leaned against the deck rail, her head tipped back to the warmth of the rising sun. “Mom.” She turned to Ann, who stood quickly and took her hands. “I’ve often wondered if I could have made other decisions.”
Ann paused, waiting.
“If I had let you notify Peter, I mean. If I’d let you write to him. The Michaels were your friends. I’m sure they would have wanted him to know what happened to us, and Peter would have come, and maybe then I would have been by his side all along.”
Ann carefully wiped a tear from her cheek. “You can’t be sure of anything in this life, dear.” She lowered her head as she pulled Maddy’s hands together. After a long moment she spoke barely above a whisper. “Sheila and I understood each other.”
“Mom, how could you know?” Maddy tightened her grip on Ann’s hands. “Mom. What do I do now?”
“What do you want to do?”
“I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to live with any more regrets. I don’t want to hurt anymore. Most of all, I don’t want to live another minute without telling Peter how I feel.”