She’d spent years waiting for Julian to come back to her, but at some point, she’d had to go on with her life. She’d enrolled in school and become a nurse, and taken a job in this very building.
She’d first met Liam in his father’s hospital room. She’d been so lonely then, so lost. She’d read about Julian’s new marriage and it had broken her spirit. When Liam finally asked her out, she’d said yes.
She’d known that Liam fell in love with her almost instantly, and though she hadn’t felt the same, she’d needed someone to love her, someone to care about her. Day by day, Liam had shown her how it felt to be truly wanted.
Still, when she found out she was pregnant, she’d felt trapped. She could remember every nuance of the day she’d told him.
They’d been out at Angel Falls, their favorite spot, stretched out on a blanket. When she told him about the baby, he stifled a laugh of joy, and then, quietly, asked her to marry him.
She’d told him some of her past. She’d said, I’ve been married before. I loved him with all my heart and soul. I’m afraid I’ll love him until I die.
I see, he’d said. But she was the one who could see. She was breaking his heart, this gentle, caring man who loved her the way she loved Julian. She’d wanted to believe that they could be happy. And in many ways they had been. She had grown to love Liam, but never had she fallen head over heels in love. In truth, she’d never allowed herself to; she saw that now.
She’d always been secretly waiting for Julian. Down deep, in that place reserved for true love, she’d kept a single candle burning for his return. Because of that, her love for Liam had been thin and brittle, a layer of ice on a bottomless blue lake. How could it be more when Julian was already there, taking up too much space in her heart?
She didn’t know if she’d regretted it then—that was something she couldn’t seem to remember—or if she’d ever let herself look closely enough to see it. But she regretted it now, regretted it with a ferocity that was nearly desperation.
Her past felt like a huge and tangled fishing net, filled with debris, and she wondered if she could ever untangle it enough to find the pearls that had to be hidden in the mess.
Now, whenever she closed her eyes—and sometimes even when she didn’t—she saw the flickering reel of her whole life. It was everywhere, in the dozens of floral arrangements and green plants that filled this tiny room, in the accordion of get-well cards that lined her windowsill, in the pad of phone messages that the nurses brought in to her each day.
In Last Bend, she’d found a place where she belonged. And the saddest part was, she was certain that she hadn’t recognized that. For years, she’d thought that she was an outsider here. Even as she’d volunteered for a dozen different charitable events and organized the Bits-n-Spurs 4-H club, as she’d sat down to dinner at friends’ houses and sipped punch with people after church, she’d always believed that she didn’t belong. It was, she realized, an ugly bit of baggage that she’d carried here from her youth, and she’d been so damned busy hanging on to it that she’d failed to notice that the bags were empty.
She was so deep in thought, she didn’t hear the knock at the door.
Rosa stood in the doorway. She looked old and tired, and for once, her white hair wasn’t held hostage in a tight braid. She wore a pair of crisply creased black pants and a red turtleneck sweater. In her arms, she held a big, square book.
Mikaela maneuvered herself to a sit. “Recuerdo mi vida, Mama,” she said softly, not even bothering with hello.
Rosa stumbled, then went still, her wide brown eyes focused on Mikaela’s face. “You remember? All of it?”
“How’s Bret … after yesterday?”
“A milagro. ” Rosa moved again, taking shuffling steps toward the bed. Her smile was gentle. “He is fine. This boy of yours, he has a hardy heart. And, of course, Dr. Liam was there. ”
Mikaela swallowed hard. “Can I see the kids now?”
“Bret is on a field trip today. His class went eagle watching at Rockport—it is the migration time. Jacey has a social studies presentation to give at noon. It is half of her grade. ”
Mikaela sagged back, disappointed. “Oh. I guess life goes on, eh, Mama?”
“It is for a short time, only. I will bring them to your room this afternoon, sí?” Rosa handed Mikaela the big leather book she was holding. “This is for you. ”
Mikaela touched the fine leather. “Muy caro, eh, Mama?”
“Sometimes it is good to spend the money. Myrtle—your friend at the drugstore—she told me that you have wanted this for a long time. ”
That was something Mikaela couldn’t remember, but she did know that she’d been meaning to put together a family scrapbook for years. Another entry in her endless stack of so
medays. “Gracias, Mama. It’s beautiful. ”
“Ah, you did not used to be so stupido. Open it. ”
Mikaela’s mouth fell open. “Stupido? Stupido?” Her mother never talked like that. “A little respect for the recently brain damaged, if you don’t mind. ”
Rosa shrugged. “Lo siento. Lately I have spent much time with a little boy, and he has changed me. Yesterday I actually said that a cartoon was rad. ”
“That’s my Bretster. Last year everything was either awesome or puke-o-rama. Now it’s rad. ” Mikaela opened the book. The first page was a sheer piece of crinkled tissue, inset with dried violets. On a panel in the middle, in Rosa’s careful hand, were the words Mikaela Conchita Luna True Campbell.