The air had chilled slightly, and Adrienne had lit a few candles around the kitchen to warm and light the space. Sitting at the table, she had put Mark’s letter back in the box with the note and the photograph. Amanda watched her soberly, her hands in her lap.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” she said quietly. “For everything. For losing Paul, for having to live through that alone. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to keep all of that in-side.”
“Neither can I,” Adrienne said. “There’s no way I could have made it without help.”
Amanda shook her head. “But you did,” she whispered.
“No,” Adrienne said. “I survived, but I didn’t do it alone.”
Amanda looked puzzled. Adrienne offered her a melan-choly smile.
“Grampa,” she finally said. “My daddy. That’s who I
cried with. And I cried with him every day for weeks. Without him, I don’t know what I would have done.”
“But.. .“ Amanda trailed off, and Adrienne went on for her.
“But he couldn’t say anything?” Adrienne paused. “He didn’t have to, He listened, and that was what I needed. Besides, I knew there wasn’t anything he could have said that would have made the pain go away, even if he could speak.” She lifted her gaze. “You know that as well as I do.”
Amanda pressed her lips together. “I wish you’d told me,” she said. “Before now, I mean.”
“Because of Brent?”
Amanda nodded.
“I know you do, but you weren’t ready to hear it until now. You needed time to work through your grief in your own way, on your own terms.”
For a long moment, Amanda said nothing.
“It isn’t fair. You and Paul, me and Brent,” she whis-pered.
“No, it isn’t.”
“How were you able to go on after losing him like that?” Adrienne smiled wistfully. “I took things one day at a time. Isn’t that what they tell you to do? I know it sounds trite1, but I used to wake up in the mornings and tell my-self that I only had to be strong for one day. Just one day. I did that over and over.”
“You make it sound so simple,” Amanda whispered.
“It wasn’t. It was the hardest time I ever went through.”
“Even more than when Daddy left?”
“That was hard, too, but this was different.” Adrienne
flashed a quick smile. “You were the one who told me that, remember ?“
Amanda looked away. Yes, she thought, I do. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet him.”
“You would have liked him. In time, I mean. Back then, you might not have. You were still hoping that your dad and I would get back together.”
Amanda’s hand went reflexively to the wedding band she still wore, and she twisted it around her finger, her face a mask.
“You’ve lost a lot in your life.”
“Yes, I have.”
“But you seem so happy now.”
“I am.”
“How can you be?”
Adrienne brought her hands together. “When I think of losing Paul or the years that might have been, of course it makes me sad. It did then, and it still does now. But you have to understand something else, too: As hard as it was, as terrible and unfair as the way things turned out, I wouldn’t have traded the few days I spent with him for any-thing.”
She paused, making sure her daughter understood that. “In Mark’s letter, he said that I saved Paul from himself. But if Mark had asked me, I would have said that we’d saved each other, or that he’d saved me. Had I never met him, I doubt I ever would have forgiven Jack2, and I wouldn’t have been the mother or grandmother I am now. Because of him, I came back to Rocky Mount knowing that I was going to be okay, that things would work out, that no
matter what, I’d make it. And the year we spent writing each other gave me the strength I needed when I finally learned what had happened to him. Yes, I was devastated3 by losing him, but if somehow I could go back in time— this time knowing what would happen in advance—I still would have wanted him to go because of his son. He needed to make things right with Mark. His son needed him—had always needed him. And it wasn’t too late.”
Amanda looked away, knowing she was talking about Max and Greg as well.
“That’s why I told you this story from the beginning,” Adrienne went on. “Not just because I’d been through what you’re living through now, but because I wanted you to understand how important his relationship with his son was. And what it meant for Mark to know that. Those are wounds that are difficult to heal, and I don’t want you to have any more wounds than you already have now.”
Adrienne reached across the table and took her daugh-ter’s hand, “I know you’re still hurting about Brent, and there’s nothing I can do to help you with that. But if Brent were here, he would tell you to concentrate on your kids, not on his death. He would want you to remember the good moments, not the bad ones. And above all, he would want to know that you’re going to be okay, too.”
“I know all that—”
Adrienne cut her off with a gentle squeeze, not letting her finish. “You’re stronger than you think you are,” she went on, “but only if you want to be.”
“It’s not that easy.”
“Of course it isn’t, but you have to understand that I’m
not talking about your emotions. Those you can’t control. You’re still going to cry, you’re still going to have moments when you don’t feel you can go on. But you have to act as if you can. At a time like this, actions are just about the only things you can control.” She paused. “Your children need you, Amanda. I don’t think there’s ever been a time when they needed you more. But lately, you haven’t been there for them. I know you’re hurting, and I hurt for you, but you’re a mom now, and you can’t keep going like this. Brent wouldn’t have wanted it, and your children are pay-ing the price.”
As Adrienne finished, Amanda seemed to be studying the table. But then, almost as if moving in slow motion, she raised her head and looked up.
As much as she wished otherwise, Adrienne had no idea what Amanda was thinking.
Dan was folding the last of the towels in the basket while watching ESPN when Amanda returned home. The clothes had been sorted into piles on the coffee table. Dan automatically reached for the remote to turn down the vol-ume.
“I was wondering when you were going to make it back,” he said.
“Oh, hey,” Amanda said, looking around. “Where are the boys?”
Dan motioned with his head as he added a green towel
to the stack, “They just got into bed a few minutes ago. They’re probably still awake if you want to say good night.”
“Where are your kids?”
“I dropped them off with Kira on our way home. Just to let you know, Max dripped some pizza sauce on his Scooby-Doo shirt. I guess it’s one of his favorites, because he got pretty upset about it. I’ve got it soaking in the sink now, but I couldn’t find the stain remover.”
Amanda nodded. “I’ll get some this weekend. I’ve got to go shopping anyway. I’m out of other things, too.”
Dan looked at his sister. “If you make a list, Kira could pick up what you need. I know she’s going to the store.”
“Thanks for the offer, but it’s time I start doing that for myself again.”
“Okay . . .“ He smiled uncertainly. For a moment, nei-ther he nor his sister said anything.
“Thanks for taking the boys out,” Amanda said finally.
Dan shrugged4. “No big deal. We were going out anyway, and I figured they might enjoy it.”
Amanda’s voice was earnest, “No. I mean, thank you for all the times you’ve done that lately. Not just tonight. You and Matt have been great since . . . since I lost Brent, and I don’t know if I’ve let you know how much I appreciate that.”
Dan looked away at the mention of Brent’s name. He reached for the empty laundry basket.
“What are uncles for, right?” He shifted from one foot to the other, holding the basket in front of him. “Would you like me to swing by for the boys again tomorrow? I was thinking of going on a bike ride with the kids.”
Amanda shook her head. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” Dan looked at her, his expression dubious5, Amanda
didn’t seem to notice. She slipped off her jacket and set it on the chair along with her purse. “I talked to Mom for quite a while tonight.”
“Oh? How’d it go?”
“You wouldn’t believe half of it if I told you.”
“What did she say?”
“You had to be there. But I learned something about her tonight.”
Dan cocked an eyebrow6, waiting.
“She’s tougher than she looks,” Amanda said.
Dan laughed. “Yeah, sure, she’s tough all right. She cries when the goldfish die.”
“That may be true, but in a lot of ways, I wish I could be as strong as she is.”
“I’ll bet.”
When Dan saw his sister’s serious expression, he sud-denly realized no punch line was coming. His brow fur-rowed.
“Wait,” he said. “Our mom?”
Dan left a few minutes later, and despite his attempts to find out what their mother had told Amanda, she had re-fused to tell him. She understood the reasons for her mother’s silence, both in the past and in the years since, and knew her mother would tell Dan when or if she had reason to do so.
Amanda locked the door behind Dan and looked around the living room. In addition to folding the clothes, he’d straightened up; she remembered that before she’d left, there were videos strewn near the television, a pile of empty cups on the end table, a year’s worth of magazines stacked haphazardly7 on the desk by the door.
Dan had taken care of everything. Again.
Amanda turned out the lights, thinking of Brent, think-ing of the last eight months, thinking of her children. Greg and Max shared a bedroom at one end of the hail; the mas-ter bedroom was at the opposite end. Lately the distance had seemed too far to travel at the end of the day. Before Brent had passed away, she’d helped the boys say their prayers and read to them from small books with colorful drawings before pulling up the covers to their chins.
Tonight, her brother had done that for her. Last night, no one had done it at all.
Amanda headed upstairs. The house was dark, the upper hallway shadowed and black. At the top of the steps, she heard the broken whispers of her sons. She went down the corridor and paused in the doorway8 of their room, peeking9
in.
They slept in twin beds, their comforters decorated with dinosaurs10 and race cars; toys were scattered11 between the beds. A night-light glowed from the outlet12 near the closet, and in the silence, she saw again how much both boys re-sembled their father.
They’d stopped moving. Knowing she was watching them, they wanted her to think they were asleep, as if find-ing security by hiding from their mother.
The floor squeaked13 beneath her weight. Max seemed to be holding his breath. Greg peeked14 at her, then snapped his eyelids15 shut as Amanda sat beside him. Leaning over, she kissed him on the cheek and ran a gentle hand through his hair.
“Hey,” she whispered. “Are you sleeping?”
“Yes,” he said.
Amanda smiled. “Do you want to sleep with Mommy tonight? In the big bed?” she whispered.
It seemed to take a moment before Greg understood what she’d said. “With you?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he said, and Amanda kissed him again, watch-ing as he sat up. She moved to Max’s bed. His hair glittered gold in the light from the window, looking like Christmas tinsel.
“Hey, sweetie.”
Max swallowed, his eyes closed. “Can I come, too?”
“If you want to.”
“Okay,” he said.
Amanda smiled as they got up, but when they started to-ward the door, Amanda pulled them back, embracing them both, They smelled like little boys: dirt and sweet grass, in-nocence itself.
“How about if tomorrow we go to the park, and later we can get some ice cream,” she said.
“Can we fly our kites?” Max asked.
Amanda squeezed them tighter, closing her eyes.
“All day long. And the next day, too, if you want to.”
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1
trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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2
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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3
devastated
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| v.彻底破坏( devastate的过去式和过去分词)；摧毁；毁灭；在感情上（精神上、财务上等）压垮adj.毁坏的；极为震惊的 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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haphazardly
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| adv.偶然地，随意地，杂乱地 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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peeking
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| v.很快地看( peek的现在分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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dinosaurs
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| n.恐龙( dinosaur的名词复数 )；守旧落伍的人，过时落后的东西 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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peeked
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| v.很快地看( peek的过去式和过去分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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