by Soidenet Gue
“You’re late,” Nick said, without turning his head to see Eddy. He did not wear a mask either. His daughter came to stand by his side with her hand on his shoulder, surveying Eddy with utmost curiosity. “You were supposed to be here days ago.”
“I thought we agreed that I couldn’t make it that soon,” Eddy said before extending his hand to his brother, who stood for a few seconds, his thick beard brushing against the neckband of his wrinkled Cortana blue T-shirt. Eddy sat across the picnic table, mindful of Nick tapping his thumb and the knuckle of his middle finger on a black leather portfolio in a slow rhythm. The table had nothing else on it except a half-full box of tissues. Nick’s muted humming or singing ceased, but the tapping continued a while longer. Eddy could tell they had just eaten either tomato sauce–based pasta or pizza for lunch from the strong scent of tomato sauce that still lingered there. “My wife wanted me to get vaccinated before going on this whole trip,” Eddy said. “Part of the reason I couldn’t come sooner. I hope that’s okay.”
“Which one did you take?”
“Pardon?”
“Which vaccine?”
“Oh, the good one—I hope.”
“Well, you look pretty good,” Nick said. “Solène told me she was teaching again when I talked to her. Is that so?”
“Yeah, middle school, for the past six years now after quitting her online business.”
“Well, I’m sure she’s a wonderful teacher.”
“What did you want to see me about?”
“Good thing you asked. I was just about to get into it.” Both men chuckled a little. “Eddy, I’m dying. Don’t let the look or the voice confuse you. Lung cancer. Might be hard to believe, but I think I have just a little over eight months to live. Maybe less. Who knows? Look, I don’t need your—” His chest heaved up and down with a paroxysm of dreadful coughs, followed by a loud exhalation of relief. “Please just spare me the whole ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry to hear that’ thing. Believe me, the young lady and I over here have heard enough of it.”
Eddy held his breath with his hand over his mouth after Nick complained about his daughter’s lack of sleep and appetite due to his sickness. His niece’s body stiffened in defiance. He watched her squeeze the back of her father’s neck in rebuke. A full minute went by, and Eddy still could not find any words to express his solicitude. All he could manage was to blow the air he had been retaining for several seconds in his lungs, looking down at the table. The loud cry of a crow sitting on the highest powerline made his head twitch, noticing for the first time on the far side of the yard the orange tree that he once knew before his niece was born. The tree had grown twenty feet tall, yet it produced just a few green fruits still in their Spanish-lime size.
Not long, Eddy writhed in his chair, his cell phone clasped in his hands like a small Bible. A brutal truth about this particular awning color had dawned upon him with an unsettling feeling in his stomach: the last few places he had seen Nick and Bridget. The couple had hosted him at this house upon their return from their honeymoon thirteen years ago. Nick was unsure about staying in real estate after the financial crisis, while Bridget searched for employment. For an instant, Eddy seemed to have forgotten all about Nick’s illness; his curiosity regarding the content of the portfolio intensified by leaps and bounds. He let out an empty cough as he glanced at the sunshade, aching to recollect the story Nick had told him concerning their troubled marriage. All he remembered with absolute certitude was that the divorce occurred soon after Eve arrived into this world. More empty coughs rang out.
“Would you like some water?” Nick asked.
The minister raised his hand in objection while his face turned scarlet. His stiffness intensified twofold when he leaned forward and noticed Eve gazing at his face. His eyes sparked with a vague yet familiar recognition, as though he was caught staring now at his own distraught reflection in a mirror when surveying Eve’s hair and the deep-set brown of her upturned eyes.
“I remember the last time you were here,” Nick said. He then continued but with no sign of tension in his voice, “Rainy day. Yeah. Started raining nonstop right after you helped me install that old sunshade. But the last place we saw each other—it wasn’t here, was it?”
Eddy, who had never forgotten how unnerved Bridget was with Nick that day because she wanted a blue awning instead of red, said nothing. He watched Nick blow his nose in a handful of tissues, precipitating an expression of great concern on his niece’s face.
“Can you help me out here? I’m trying to remember the last place we saw each other, for pity’s sake.”
“Jesus, Nick. It was a long time ago.”
“No worry. It’ll come back to me.” They talked about Tampa—Nick’s likes and dislikes about the city. Soon, Nick tapped his forehead and said, “Oh, I remember now. It’s true, you left the house on that same rainy day. Yeah, no question about that. But we did run into each other two days later, didn’t we?” His forehead crumpled in complete concentration. “You said you missed your train ’cause you got mugged. God, it sounded horrible. Lost your cell phone, your wallet and all that. Except, when I offered my help, you said you were just leaving. Said they found the culprit and that everything worked out.”
“And where was that?” the preacher asked with a raised left cheek. He had kept his head down, twiddling his index finger over his cell phone screen.
“Downtown. Right outside . . . Le Méridien hotel. I believe Bridget said she had to go see a friend somewhere while I was on my way to a store not too far from the hotel. Had a couple of gift cards. Wedding gifts.” He laughed. “For a minute, I imagined you were staying in the damn hotel. To tell you the truth, it’s still a mystery to me why you didn’t buzz me. After all, you had your . . . stolen stuff back. Gee, don’t you remember any of that?”
“Vaguely. Jesus, Nick. Like I said, it was a long time ago.”
“Anyway,” Nick said, “now, there’s like two—I mean, I have two shops. Biggest one’s just a few miles downtown. I’d very much want you to run them. Okay?” He pushed the portfolio closer to Eddy. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I got no one else,” he lied. He lifted his palm to prevent Eddy from opening the document. “Not expecting them to be much of a challenge, you know. Just a little management from the top until they can be sold for a good bundle. There’s no reason not to get along with the crew—guys have stuck with me for the past four years or so.”
“That’s all he’s ever worried about. A bunch of stupid stores,” Eve complained to Nick. Then, her voice cracked, sounding even more crestfallen: “Dad will be trying chemotherapy.”
“Oh. I had no idea. That’s . . . I understand. How soon will you start?”
“Very,” Nick said.
Eve stifled a sigh of despair.
“God is great,” Eddy said. “The Lord works in mysterious ways. Oh, yes. It’s going to be okay, Eve.”
“He didn’t even want to do it.”
“And let me guess. Something tells me you’re the brave little angel who had to see to it that he changed his stubborn mind.” His niece nodded, suppressing a gorgeous smile, and he had almost missed it before despair overwhelmed her face. His mouth was already open to inquire about her academic performance when Nick requested her to double-check the guestroom.
“But I want to stay here longer with you,” Eve said.
“Come on, baby, do as you’re told.”
“I’ve checked already. It’s all fine.”
Nick tapped her hand, still resting over his shoulder.
“No, Daddy. Please.”
“I think you should listen to your father,” Eddy said.
“Yes, sir.” Eve kissed her father on his cheek and trudged away with bitter tears in her eyes.
Her sweet voice had brought an overwhelming sense of both sadness and delight to Eddy’s thoughts. For a moment, his mind could not stop conjuring up loving images of his wife’s smiles—hugging and waving goodbye at her students and her radiant face long after she got home. Although it had been several years since their adoption plans fell through, he still found it difficult not to blame himself. Was this part of God’s greater plan? Throughout this long process, a part of Eddy felt as if he should have listened to Solène more. Why couldn’t he have been a little less involved in church matters at the time? It was one thing—and one Solène was delighted with—for the church to set up a temporary shelter for Hurricane Irma victims but another for him to run it. How could so few words ruin everything? “Maybe we should reconsider. At least for now,” a fatigued-looking Eddy had told Solène one late night after he came home from the shelter. He had never anticipated so many people to sign up for it.
Little smiling-faced Stella still flashed through his mind. Eddy imagined her living in a happy home in the arms of a much younger, vibrant couple. He remembered Solène was the first to see Stella on the porch, where she had been standing. He had yet to put the red Passat on parking when she unbuckled her seat, hopped out of the car and lifted Stella at eye level, the large foster care lady gazing and clapping in elation at the future mother. Seven-year-old Stella felt so safe and humbled in her arms. They had prayed so much for this moment, this encounter.
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