Under a Summer Sky, page 28
They heard a car door and Noah looked out the window. His heart pounded as he walked outside while the state trooper helped Maddie get out of the passenger side of his car. Gabe stood in the doorway, watching as his grandmother reached up and gently put her hands on his dad’s cheeks; he watched his dad’s shoulders sag as she spoke and he saw his back shaking as she hugged him. Without seeing his face, Gabe knew his dad was crying . . . and his grandmother was crying too. He didn’t need to hear what happened—he already knew. He felt Harper’s nose nudging his hand, and he sat down on the stoop and put his arm around her, and as hot tears spilled down his cheeks, Harper leaned against him with the weight of the world.
PART III
Lord, make me to know . . . the measure of my days . . .
—Psalm 39:4
68
Noah leaned against the railing of his parents’ beach house and looked up at the stars. He listened to the voices inside, and tears welled up in his eyes again—he couldn’t seem to stop them. Laney pushed open the screen door. “I thought I’d find you out here,” she said, leaning against the railing next to him and looking up at the sky. “The stars are so bright.”
Noah nodded. “I know. Dad loved coming out here to listen to the surf and look at the stars. He knew all the constellations’ names. My grandfather told him that Cygnus was his constellation because it was brightest around his birthday.” He smiled. “Your birthday too.” He shook his head sadly. “I just can’t believe he’s gone, Lane.” Noah’s voice was barely audible. “At this time last night, he was spinning Beryl around on the dance floor—and now he’s gone. How can that be?”
Laney shook her head sadly. “I don’t know. . . .”
Noah watched the light from the lighthouse sweep across the sky. “When I said good night to him last night, he clapped me on the shoulder and said, ‘That was the best party I’ve ever been to.’ Those were the last words he said to me. And I hugged him and said, ‘Thanks, Dad, I’m glad you had fun.’ ” Noah shook his head.
Laney smiled sadly. “It’s very appropriate. Most people don’t remember the last thing they said to someone . . . and other people are filled with regret because the last thing they said wasn’t kind, but you two said just the right thing . . . and you’ll always have that.”
Noah nodded, and Laney looked over, searching his face. “Have you called Micah?”
Noah shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes again. “I don’t know what to do. This is the first night of their honeymoon, and if I call them, they’re going to turn right around and come home. They’ve both been looking forward to it for so long. . . .” His voice trailed off.
Laney stood silently next to him.
He looked over at her. “What would you do?”
She sighed. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do, but I’m surprised that you, of all people, are struggling with this. You’ve always been so cut and dry on the subject of being forthcoming . . . no matter what the cost. Your mantra has always been: there’s no excuse for holding back—not even to protect someone.”
“This isn’t the same.”
“It’s not?”
“No, it’s not. This is calling my brother on his honeymoon to give him news that will devastate him.”
“And what if the tables were turned? Would you want him to call you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, how would you feel if you were off having a good time and something terrible happened at home, but your family didn’t call you because they didn’t want to ruin your good time?”
Noah didn’t answer, but the tears streaming down his cheeks said it all. “I’d be mad,” he said finally. “Oh, Lane,” he said, turning to her, his shoulders sagging. “Why did this happen? Why did it have to happen now?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around him and holding him.
“Dad?” E called softly through the screen.
Noah straightened up and wiped his eyes as E stepped out onto the porch. “I’m taking Chloe back to the house to get her car. . . . She has to be at work early tomorrow.”
“Does anyone else want to go home with you?”
“I don’t know. Ash’s asleep on the couch with Harper, and Seth’s half asleep in the chair, and Uncle Isaac and Aunt Nina are going to stay over with Grandma.”
“It’s late,” Laney said, looking at her watch. “I should just take all the boys home.”
Noah nodded. “Why don’t you guys go in the SUV and leave the car for me? I just want to talk to Mom once more, and then I’ll be along.”
Laney nodded, and E went inside to round up his brothers.
An hour later, after tucking her three youngest, sleepy, heartbroken boys in, Laney looked in on Gabe and E who were lying on their beds, still talking. “Good night,” she said softly.
They smiled and replied, “Good night.”
But as she turned to go down the hall, Gabe called her back. “Mom?”
“Mmm?” she said, looking back in.
“Is Dad going to be all right?”
She nodded. “He’ll be all right.”
“It’s just,” Gabe faltered. “I-I’ve never seen him cry like that before.”
Laney sat down on the edge of his bed. “I know,” she said, lightly brushing his hair back from his forehead. “And when someone who we’ve always known to be strong and unshakable falls apart, it’s scary . . . but don’t worry,” she said, holding his chin. “It’ll take time . . . and I’m sure you haven’t seen the last of his tears . . . but he’ll be okay.”
Gabe nodded, and she gave them both hugs. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” they said.
Laney collapsed onto their bed and closed her eyes. Moments later, she heard Noah come up the stairs, but instead of going into the bathroom, she heard him stop in the hall and then she heard him talking softly to someone. Finally, she heard the bathroom door close, and when he came into their room, she heard him undress quietly; she knew he was trying to not wake her, but when he slipped into bed, she reached for his hand. “How come you’re still awake?” he whispered.
“Waiting for you.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I know. Who else is awake?”
“E,” he said with a sad sigh. “When I came up, I thought I heard something, and I went in to check. Gabe was asleep, but E was lying there with tears streaming down his cheeks. He said he just keeps picturing Grandpa, and he can’t believe he’s never going to see him again.” He looked over at Laney. “It breaks my heart to see him like that. I think he’s taking it the hardest of all the boys.”
“I don’t know. . . . They’re all pretty upset. How’s your mom?”
“Heartbroken—she can’t believe it either.”
“Like you.”
He nodded.
“Did you talk about a service?”
Noah looked over. “She said he didn’t want one.”
“What?” Laney said in surprise. “Why?”
“I don’t know. She said they’d talked about it a couple of times, and she tried to change his mind, but he was adamant. He said he wanted to be cremated, but he didn’t want to be buried in a cemetery. He just wanted his ashes spread near Nauset Light with only family present.”
“Wow,” Laney said. “Not even a memorial service?”
Noah shook his head. “And, you’re not going to believe this, but the headaches he was having last spring were caused by a tumor. He’s been having radiation all summer, and he wouldn’t let her say anything. He was just cleared last week. They actually went out and celebrated.”
“Oh, my goodness! Your poor mom!”
“Now, I don’t know whether to be mad or sad . . .”
“Did you ask her about Micah?”
“Yes, she wants me to call him in the morning. She said she’s tired of keeping things from people and, honeymoon or not, he should know.”
“She’s right.”
Noah squeezed her hand. “Thank you for being there today,” he said softly.
“I didn’t do much . . . except cry.”
“And listen . . .”
“I learned that from you,” she said softly, squeezing his hand.
69
As soon as they got the news, Micah and Beryl booked the first flight home. The manager of the resort offered Micah his deepest condolences and said he hoped they’d come back in happier times. He even graciously refunded their entire week’s stay. Noah met them at the airport and drove straight to the Cape house so they could see Maddie.
“I’m so sorry we ruined your honeymoon, hon,” she said, giving Beryl a long hug and holding Micah’s tearstained face in her hands.
Micah just shook his head, and in a voice choked with emotion, asked, “Do they know what happened?”
“Without an autopsy, they can’t be sure,” Maddie said, “but after I said he’d recently complained about pain in his leg, they think he may have had a blood clot that traveled to his heart.”
Micah shook his head. “I just can’t believe it. He seemed fine at the wedding. He seemed so happy.”
“He was happy,” Maddie said softly. “He was so very happy . . . and he was so proud of you boys and the lives you’ve made for yourselves.”
Micah turned to search his mom’s eyes. “And how are you?”
She smiled sadly. “As good as can be expected, I guess . . . I miss him. And poor Harper is such a lost soul. Did Noah tell you how they found her?”
Micah nodded, and the image of Harper lying on the sand with her head on his dad’s chest triggered a new wave of tears. “She’s such a great dog.”
Maddie nodded. “She adored your father, and I think she’s just as heartbroken as the rest of us.”
“Noah said he didn’t want a service. . . .”
“No, he was definite about that. I tried to change his mind, but you know him, once he gets an idea in his head, that’s it. So he’s being cremated, and we’re going to spread his ashes on Friday morning.” As she said this, she looked up at Noah for confirmation and he nodded.
Micah wiped his eyes. “Where is Harper?” he asked, looking around.
Maddie motioned toward the kitchen. “On her bed. She doesn’t have much of an appetite, and she hardly gets up. She won’t even play with her ball.”
“That’s not good.” He looked at Beryl. “Want to see if she’ll go for a walk?”
Beryl nodded, and as Noah carried their suitcases upstairs, Micah went into the kitchen. When the little black Lab saw him standing there, the tip of her tail started to wag, but she didn’t lift her head until he came over and sat next to her, and even then, she had the same sad, worried expression on her face that she’d had for days. Micah stroked her soft ears and told her everything was going to be okay, and she licked his hand and rested her head on his thigh. Finally, he asked her if she wanted to go for a walk, and she wagged her tail and got up. Micah clicked her leash to her collar, and he and Beryl walked with Noah out to his car and then continued up the road—away from the beach. When they got back a little while later, Harper nosed around her food dish and finished most of what was there.
“Well, that’s a little better,” Maddie said with a sad smile. “I guess it’s just going to take some time.”
70
Friday morning dawned cloudy and cool, and by the time they’d walked to a spot from where they could see the lighthouse, it had started to drizzle. Everyone pulled up their hoods or stood under umbrellas. “Well, I guess this is appropriate,” Noah said with a sad smile. “Dad . . . Grandpa . . . never minded a day like this, no matter how gloomy. He always said it was the perfect opportunity to settle into his favorite chair and read a good book. And if he wasn’t reading, he was standing on the porch, watching the waves roll in.
“Even though he didn’t want a traditional memorial service, I think we would be remiss in our duties if we didn’t say a few words; so with that in mind, I’d like to read a verse that I’ve always found to be a source of comfort for those who are left behind.” He slipped a small, dog-eared copy of the New Testament from his pocket, opened it to John 14 and read, “ ‘Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.’ ”
Noah looked up. “Let us pray.
“Dear Lord, bless the soul of our beloved husband, brother, father, and grandfather. He was a good and faithful servant who loved You and showed his love by sharing his time and talent with anyone who asked. We are thankful for the time we’ve shared with him on earth, and we know in our hearts that he is now in Your heavenly care . . . in a room that you’ve prepared just for him. Amen.”
Noah nodded to Gabe, and Gabe stepped forward and unfolded a tearstained piece of paper. Clearing his throat and wiping his eyes, he looked up and whispered solemnly, “This last poem is for you, Grandpa. It’s from Tennyson. . . .
‘Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea.
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home!
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For though from out our bourn of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.’ ”
Noah put his hand on Gabe’s shoulder and smiled. Then he reached for the box in E’s hands, opened it, took a few steps away, lifted it high, and turned it on its side. Just as he did, a gust of wind swept past as if it had been beckoned and carried the dull gray ash out across the waves. And at that moment, as they watched in amazement, a bright ray of sunlight broke through the dark clouds and streamed across the ocean, causing the ash to shimmer and sparkle as it drifted away.
When they finally got home late that afternoon, E and Gabe grimly set to work packing and trying to get organized. Noah and Laney were taking them back to their respective colleges the next morning for their weeklong cross-country preseason—E to Amherst, and Gabe to Amherst’s rival, Williams.
Laney stood at the bottom of the stairs with a pad and pencil in her hands and called, “I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?”
“Deodorant,” E called.
“Me too,” added Gabe, “and toothpaste.”
“I’ll take toothpaste too,” E called.
“Is that it?” Laney asked, jotting down their requests. “Does anybody need laundry detergent . . . dryer sheets . . . shampoo . . . soap?”
“I do,” they both called.
“Which?”
“All of it,” they both called.
“Snacks and Gatorade too,” E added.
“Are you making cookies?” Gabe asked hopefully.
“If I have time . . . after buying out the store.”
“What’s for supper?” E called.
“Spaghetti.”
“With sausage?”
“Maybe.”
“And garlic bread?”
“Possibly.”
“Can Chloe come?”
“Yes,” Laney called. “Anything else?”
“Can you also get those little cups of microwavable macaroni and cheese?” Gabe called.
“You’re pushing it!” she said, and she heard them laugh.
She stopped to peer into Noah’s study and found him staring at a blank document on his laptop screen. “Need anything?”
“A sermon,” he said, turning around and smiling.
“I don’t think they have those at the store. Besides, hon, I honestly think the congregation would understand if you took Sunday off.”
“I know they would, but I took last Sunday off,” he said, closing his laptop. “I think I’m just going to go for a walk, and hopefully, I’ll think of something.”
Later that night, with boxes piled everywhere, and bags of running shoes piled on top, they gathered around the candlelit table, said grace, ate spaghetti with sausage and meatballs, garlic bread, salad, and apple pie until they thought their sides would burst. They snuck tidbits to the dogs, teased one another, made faces, told jokes . . . and laughed. Noah looked around the table at their smiling faces, glowing in the candlelight, listened to their laughter, and he was amazed by the buoyancy of the human spirit—in spite of their shared sorrow and broken hearts, they had each found a way to laugh.
He looked across the table at his favorite old soul and knew, by the look in her glistening eyes, that she was missing her boys already. It would be Thanksgiving before they were together again, and he knew she was holding them close . . . never wanting to let them go.
71
After they’d sung the middle hymn, Noah looked up and gazed out at his congregation with tired eyes. He felt as if he’d aged ten years, and when he’d looked in the mirror that morning, he’d decided he looked it too. The day before, they’d loaded up Laney’s SUV and E’s old Civic and driven all the way across the state to drop the boys off at school. And the trip hadn’t started off well because it was Saturday and all the homebound vacationers were trying to get off the Cape too—Route 6 had been backed up for miles.
