A Year of Extraordinary Moments (A Magnolia Grove Novel) Read online

  The bond between Alice and Charlie was such that she knew without asking he’d understood, and he’d responded just as he always did—by giving her more than she’d asked for.

  Alice smiled. “I’m lucky to have a friend like you, Charlie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  He laughed, then turned his head and coughed. Alice had seen him cough that way before. It happened when an emotional thought got stuck in his throat and words refused to come.

  Dr. Willoughby studied the X-ray, his expression solemn and drawn. “The mass is considerably larger,” he said. “Are you experiencing increased pain in your back?”

  She nodded.

  He came around to where she was sitting and felt along her rib cage, his touch light as a feather. “What about here?”

  She winced and gave another nod.

  “Not good.” Dr. Willoughby’s jowly face wrinkled itself into a map of discouragement. “You’re stage four, Alice, metastatic. The tumor has become aggressive, and, with this accelerated rate of growth, I’d say the most you’ve got is two, maybe three months.”

  “Three months?” Charlie gasped. “Isn’t there something you can do?”

  “Three months at the outside, Charlie,” Dr. Willoughby said. “It’s likely to be less.” He looked between them, sorrow in his eyes. “At this point, there is nothing we can do to slow the growth.” He looked over at Alice. “The thing we’ve got to be concerned with is keeping you comfortable and pain-free. I can increase the dosage on your meds, but if that doesn’t do it”—he gave a hopeless-looking shrug—“then we’ll have to look at using morphine.”

  “No morphine,” Alice replied, “not yet.”

  “It’s important for us to keep you pain-free.”

  “With so little time, it’s more important that I spend every possible moment cogent and with my great-grandson.”

  When they left the doctor’s office, Charlie walked at the same slow pace as Alice. Although his arm was snug around her waist, he had the look of a man who’d been run over by a truck.

  “I thought we’d have more time,” he said. “You told me the cancer was back, but you never mentioned—”

  “I didn’t want to worry you,” she cut in.

  “Worry me? Hell’s fire, Alice, I never stop worrying about you! I want to be there with you at your house, see you’re comfortable and taken care of. I don’t need to sleep in your bed, but let me come and live there so I can—”

  She touched her hand to his arm and shook her head. “You know that’s not possible. Seeing you there all the time would upset Dominic. He’s already worried enough.”

  “Not all that worried,” Charlie said. “Instead of being home to look after you, he’s out carousing every night.”

  “He’s young,” Alice reasoned. “We sometimes forget what it’s like to be young and want to do things, go places, and take life by the horns.”

  Charlie gave a huff of irritation. “I know what it’s like to care about someone, be concerned for their well-being, and want to watch over them.” He took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I could move the recliner into your bedroom and sleep there. I don’t see how that could upset anybody.”

  “You sleeping in my room.” Alice chuckled. “Now what kind of an example would that set for Dominic if I up and did what I’ve chastised him for doing?”

  “It’s not the same thing at all,” Charlie argued, but Alice shook her head and turned away.

  Charlie planned to wait in the car, listening to the radio, but once Lila heard he was out there, she called him to join them. They gathered around the table, and Lila brought out a buttery pound cake.

  “I’ve been saving this for just such an occasion,” she said.

  Charlie laughed. “I don’t see my being here as much of an occasion.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” Lila argued. “Having guests at the table is definitely an occasion to be celebrated.” She scooped a ball of ice cream, set it atop a slice of butter cake, and passed it to Charlie. “For food to be pleasurable, it needs to be shared with friends. There’s very little joy in sitting down to a solitary meal.”

  Alice gave a weary smile and bobbed her head in agreement.

  After they’d been talking for a few minutes, they happened upon the subject of Meghan and the Snip ’n Save.

  “Oh, Alice, you have got to meet Tracy’s sister,” Lila said and grabbed the phone. Before anyone could protest, she’d dialed the veterinary office and asked Meghan to take an hour off and come by for coffee.

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, now. I’m serving that butter cake you love.”

  “I wish I could, but I’ve got appointments all afternoon.”

  “Alice DeLuca is here with her friend,” Lila said. “I thought it would be nice if you could meet them.”

  “I’d love to, Mama. I just can’t do it today. Why don’t you plan something for Sunday, then Tom and I can both be there.”

  A broad smile swept across Lila’s face, and she turned to Alice. “Are you and Charlie available for Sunday dinner?”

  Alice glanced over at Charlie. “Are we?”

  He nodded. “As long as you’re sure you feel up to it.”

  “Sunday would be fine,” Alice replied.

  “Then Sunday it is,” Lila said happily.

  That afternoon, Alice never even tasted the butter cake. She broke off a piece and pushed it from one side of her plate to the other while everyone else ate. Once the plates were emptied, she caught Charlie’s eye and gave a nod indicating it was time to go.

  He stood quickly and hurried around to help her out of the chair.

  When they left the Briggses’ house, Alice clung to Charlie’s arm as she turned and gave one last wave goodbye.

  On the drive home, he reached across the seat and covered her hand with his. “Was coming over here to visit the boy too much for you?” he asked. “If you’re not up to Sunday dinner, I’ll call and say we can’t make it.”

  She turned to him, a tear cresting in her eye. “I’d never do that. No matter how bad the pain is, it’s still less than the heartache of wasting one of the few precious days I have left.”

  Charlie’s jaw stiffened, and he leaned into the steering wheel, coughing as if he again had something stuck in his throat.

  38

  Sunday Dinner

  That Sunday, when they all gathered at the table, Lila was smiling.

  “Food and family,” she said. “This is the best of life.”

  Everyone at the table agreed. Only Tracy noticed the sorrowful way Alice twisted the gold band on her finger.

  Tracy lifted her glass and said, “I’d like to propose a toast to the newest members of our family, Grammy Alice and Uncle Charlie.”

  Alice smiled, and her eyes grew watery. “You can’t imagine how much it means to have you consider me part of your family. I can’t even begin to thank you.”

  “Me too,” Charlie said, but with less sentimentality attached to the words. He reached across, gave Alice’s knee an affectionate squeeze, and then asked Lila to pass the mashed potatoes. Moments later the conversations started, with shared thoughts and comments crisscrossing the table.

  Tom spoke of how the veterinary clinic had nearly doubled its client base and was rapidly outgrowing the building.

  “We’re either going to have to build an addition or find another spot, and it’s all because of Meghan,” he said. “Her way with animals is an absolute gift. Walt Kerrigan’s bulldog will bite a man’s hand off, but he’s like a lamb with her.”

  Meghan laughed. “If you keep talking like that, I’ll have to ask for a raise.”

  “I think both of these girls have a gift,” Gabriel said. “Tracy’s like that with the kids at the school. Last week, when one of the counselors called in sick, she stepped in and took over the class without even thinking about it.”

  “It’s not a gift,” Tracy replied laughingly. “It’s all the years of
sitting in on Lucas’s classes and spending time at the school. If you listen long enough, you’re bound to pick up things. When I was teaching that class, Bobby Feldman . . .”

  Once she started talking, Tracy went on for a good length of time without noticing the look of agitation on her sister’s face.

  Finally Meghan asked, “What about the Snip ’n Save? Doesn’t that keep you rather busy?”

  When Tracy caught the sarcastic tone of Meghan’s question, it rubbed her the wrong way. “Of course it does,” she replied curtly, “but I’m managing.”

  “Barely managing or managing fine? You let the ads pile up before and—”

  “They aren’t piled up! Some haven’t been done yet, but—”

  “How many is some?” Meghan challenged.

  Lila quickly jumped in. “Enough about work,” she said. “I’m thinking that after dinner we could play a game of charades. Who’s up for it?”

  Alice chuckled. “In all my years, I don’t know that I’ve ever played a game of charades.”

  “Well, then, I guess it’s long overdue,” Lila said and began suggesting teams.

  Once the table was cleared, they settled in the living room, and the game got underway. Alice said she’d be the timekeeper, seeing as how it was difficult for her to continually sit and stand. They played with Tracy, Gabriel, and Charlie on one team and Lila, Meghan, and Tom on the other. When Charlie had to act out the movie One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, Alice nearly split her sides laughing.

  That was the first of five such dinners they had that summer.

  Before the month was out, Tracy noticed how Alice had begun to lean heavier on her cane and held tight to Charlie’s arm as she rose from the chair or walked across the room. By the time August gave way to September, Alice’s visits became less frequent. Some days she’d call and say she wasn’t going to be able to make it over. When she did come, there was no more tossing the ball to Lucas; instead she’d suggest they play a board game where she could sit in the padded chair and move only her wrist and fingers. Twice she was unable to do even that. She simply sat in the chair and listened as Lucas told of what he’d done in school.

  39

  Top of the World

  In mid-September, when the evenings took on a chill and people began to hang harvest wreaths on their front doors, Gabriel took Tracy to lunch at the café. They were crossing over on the corner of Hamilton Street when she spotted a colorful sign in the front window of the dry cleaner and came to a dead stop.

  “Oh, look! The fair will be in Barrington this weekend!” She eyed the poster with its jugglers and acrobats and, in the background, a Ferris wheel that towered above everything else, then turned to Gabriel. “Have you ever been to the county fair?”

  He hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “Afraid not.”

  “You’d love it! The year I graduated high school, Daddy took Meghan, Mama, and me, and we all talked about what a good time we had for months afterward.”

  Gabriel eyed the poster for a moment, then asked, “Would you like to go this weekend?”

  “I’d love to.” She turned to him, her eyes alight and a broad smile stretched across her face. “And I think Lucas would be thrilled to pieces.”

  “Then it’s a date. We’ll make a weekend of it. The fair on Saturday and maybe a visit to the pumpkin farm on Sunday.”

  Throughout lunch and for the remainder of the afternoon, the fair was all Tracy thought about. Later that night, as she climbed into bed and clicked off the lamp, she pictured the day as it had been all those years ago: the music along the midway, the games of chance, the cotton candy, and, most of all, the Ferris wheel—a small carriage high atop everything else, her mama sitting next to her, Meghan and her daddy just across.

  “This is the top of the world,” her daddy had said. “From here you can look out and see the future that lies ahead.”

  That night Meghan had sworn she’d seen the lights of the Richmond Times-Dispatch twinkling in the distance and had known for sure she was going to be a journalist. Mama had said she didn’t need to look outside because she could see the whole of her future right there in the carriage. But Tracy had wanted to see, so she’d leaned toward the open window just as a gust of wind blew by. A speck of cinder had landed in her eye, and she’d seen nothing but the blur of watery tears. By the time she’d blinked the speck away, the carriage was back at the bottom of the wheel.

  This time it will be different, she promised herself as she drifted off to sleep.

  That Saturday morning, Tracy woke to the sound of raindrops pinging against the bedroom window. She opened one eye, saw the water cascading off the roof, and groaned.

  “Of all days . . . ,” she grumbled.

  Hopeful it would soon stop, she washed her face, dressed, and then joined Lila and Lucas for breakfast. As she sat there nursing a second cup of coffee, the rain continued. By eleven, she was almost certain the fair would be a washout. She dialed Gabriel’s number.

  “I think we’d better scrap plans for the fair,” she said. “It’s pouring.”

  “The weatherman said it’s supposed to stop this afternoon.”

  “I doubt—”

  “Why don’t you come anyway,” he suggested. “Leave Lucas at home with your mama, and we’ll have a date night. If it doesn’t stop raining, we’ll go somewhere special for dinner.”

  Tracy had been looking forward to the fair all week, but there wasn’t much anyone could do about the weather, and a date night was a good alternative. “Hold on,” she said. “Let me check if Mama’s okay with watching Lucas.”

  Seconds later she was back. “Mama’s good with it,” she said, “so I’ll finish up a few things I have to do for the Snip ’n Save and drive over later this afternoon.”

  After emailing Sheldon the three ads that were already past due, Tracy showered and started to pack. The gabardine slacks she’d planned to wear to the fair were hanging on the door. She packed them, then at the last minute, turned back and folded a black dress into the bag.

  At three o’clock when she left the house, it was still raining. The traffic was slow, and with a fender bender on Grant Street, the drive to Barrington turned out to be twice as long as usual. When she pulled up in front of the apartment building, Gabriel was standing in the doorway with his big black umbrella. As she eased her mama’s Ford into the parking spot, he hurried out.

  “I didn’t want you to get wet.” Holding the umbrella overhead, he bent to kiss her before she was out of the car.

  “Too bad about the weather,” she said. “I was really looking forward to the fair.”

  He gave a nod of agreement. “So was I. The forecast still says it’s going to clear, but I went ahead and made dinner reservations at Le’Abeille.”

  Tracy stood and gave him a crooked grin. “Good thing I brought a dress.” She retrieved her bag from the back seat. “I’ve heard great things about that restaurant, but isn’t it kind of far to drive in all this rain?”

  “It’s a forty-five-minute drive, but I think you’ll enjoy the place. It’s beautiful, and the food is supposed to be spectacular.”

  “Sounds wonderful. This could turn out to be a great weekend after all.”

  Gabriel slung her bag over his shoulder, then kissed her nose. “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  Huddled together under the umbrella, they made a dash for the building.

  The reservation was for six o’clock, so Tracy changed into her dress and freshened her makeup. Then they were off.

  Rumored to be as good as Atlanta’s Le Bilboquet, the restaurant was everything Tracy expected and more. The tables, dressed in white cloths, were decorated with candle globes, gold-trimmed china, and sparkling crystal. There was the sound of a violin, and muffled conversation.

  Tracy gave a whispered sigh. “Beautiful.”

  Hand in hand, they followed the maître d’ back to a table tucked into a romantic alcove; the maître d’ then stopped, slid the burgundy velvet
chair back from the table, looked at Tracy, and said, “Madame.”

  As Tracy sat, Gabriel shook hands with him and said, “Thank you, Henri. We were hoping to take in the fair tonight, so if the rain stops, please let me know.”

  “Most certainly, monsieur.”

  As soon as Henri was beyond hearing distance, Tracy said, “You know him?”

  Gabriel gave a sheepish grin and shrugged. “I knew you were really disappointed about the fair, so I tried to pick someplace special. I drove over this afternoon to check it out, and Henri let me reserve this table.”

  The thought of Gabriel going to such trouble to plan a date night made it all the more special. Tracy planted a kiss on the tip of her finger, then reached across and transferred it to his cheek. “Thank you,” she said in a breathy whisper.

  Moments later, a bottle of pinot noir was delivered to the table, and they toasted. As they sat and talked, she told the story of how at the top of the Ferris wheel she’d gotten a cinder in her eye and had never seen her “forever.” “I doubt Daddy’s tale was true anyway,” she said and laughed. “Meghan swore she saw the Richmond Times-Dispatch, but she didn’t become a journalist after all.”

  Gabriel smiled. “Since we didn’t know each other then, I’m sort of glad you didn’t see your future, because it might not have included me.”

  He stretched his arm across the table and took her hand in his. As they talked about first one thing and then another, the waiters came and went like silent shadows. They were there when you needed them, invisible when you didn’t. They refilled the wine glasses, delivered a platter of Chateaubriand, and disappeared.

  Partway through the meal, Henri came by and said the rain had stopped.

  As they left the restaurant, Tracy felt a chill in the air. A slight breeze had come up and puddles were scattered about, but the streets were mostly dry.