Cal helped Maureen into his grandfather's car, and they sped off toward the hospital. Maureen used her cell phone to call the hospital and get confirmation about Jared. Yes he had been brought to the hospital. Yes he had dropped something big and heavy on his foot. Yes it was broken, and yes the hospital, owing to Jared's advanced years intended to keep him overnight. Otherwise he was doing quite well. He was alert, feeling bearish, and angry with himself for being stupid.
Maureen shared the good news with Cal; still, it didn't seem to make a dent on his somber mood, "What's wrong Cal?"
He didn't want to tell her he'd figured everything out. Though he was sure she'd be OK with it, he was just a little chary about the whole thing. The further they drove the more about the past came into view; the wheel chair, the bedroom, the sofa, the gazebo, her tears, the pleading. That was what it was. Her suffering he remembered now so clearly; her pathetic little girl voice begging with the doctors and nurses not to hurt her, the chilling screams as they worked with her legs, the shrill shrieks as they tried to get the bones close to being back in place. He recalled her sobs; her soft whimpering that continued hours after the medical people had left.
He remembered the made up stories; he was the mighty knight, a brave hero fighting off the dragons, beating back the trolls, him hiding under the make believe bridge, actually the steps of the old gazebo, so he could ambush the evil monsters, and him always there to rescue her from the terrors lurking in the dark after the sun went down when it was time for bed.
He remembered her clinging tightly to his hands; he recalled how it sometimes scared him, and sometimes he'd make her let go. He remembered the way she looked at him; to her he really was a knight, a prince, or at least now in hindsight it seemed that way, like she so desperately wanted to believe it.
These were all terribly painful memories. They were an agony for him; how much worse would they be for her? How would it affect her if he dared to bring them up again after so long? Still, he had to say something, "I bet you don't remember anything about that little boy from when you were so little."
Maureen couldn't remember very much, but what she did remember was becoming increasingly vivid. Yes, the reality of her painful early childhood was becoming more real with every passing hour, "I remember some things. I do remember the boy. I was only a baby really, but I know I loved him, and I knew even then I'd love him forever." She said that as a kind of investment; for a time when he discovered he was the boy, then he'd remember what she'd said.
"What would you do if say today he showed up again? Would you still love me?"
She thought of the Roy Orbison song, 'Running Scared'. Was Cal running scared? To him she guessed the little boy was something of a rival, a rival he could never defeat. She had to tell him, "No Cal. If another man showed up and said he was my hero from the time I was four, I'd stick with you."
"You'd abandon him?"
"No. I'll love him till the day I die."
"You'd say no to him, but yes to me."
Maureen had come to something of a crossroads. She could make her next statement more meaningful if it came out right. "No Cal, I could never say no to that little boy, but I could never say no to you either."
"Then you'd say no to me? You'd have to." That bothered Cal.
"I love you. I love you more than anyone else in the world. I also love that little boy. I love him more than anyone else in the world too. The reason why I couldn't say no to you, or to him, is because he and you are the same person." There, she'd said it.
Cal pulled the car to the side of the road. He fiddled with her hands, holding her fingers, fumbling with them, "How long have you known?"
"My mom told me the story a couple nights ago. I sort of suspected something, but I just couldn't put the pieces together. Once she told me everything, showed me some pictures and some old toys everything fell into place."
After he turned the car off and got Maggie settled in the back seat again he was ready to say his piece. Looking down at his lap and then at her, "My eyes were cleared just moments ago; it's still hard to understand."
Maureen took his right hand in her left and put it to her cheek, "I know."
He put his left hand on her right cheek and rubbed it softly, "All these years we've only been a few miles apart. I thought you had died. My mom died a little after, so there wasn't anybody to remind me. I remember trying to put it out my mind, but it wouldn't go away. I mean I was a pretty happy kid, but it was like there was this empty place. Nothing would fill it."
"And now?"
"Now, now I don't know. I mean I don't want to see you go back over all those painful times. Look, I mean I'm happy. I think for the first time ever I can honestly say I'm completely happy. It's like I've gotten my heart's desire. But at the same time I'm afraid. I'm afraid I might make you remember a lot of really bad things."
She reached over with her right hand pulled his head toward her; and she pulled him over the console that separated them. She placed her mouth next to his left ear, "You bring me so much joy. You make me feel like I'm the center of the universe, that I'm just this really special person, that everyone wants to be me. And when I think of that little boy, my little hero with his toy shield and toy sword, I don't remember any pain. I only remember my wonderful little defender, my brave little soldier, the sandy haired child who fought off the dragons, Cal the courageous."
Cal didn't say anything. He wrapped his arms around Maureen. He nestled his head in her rich, well braided, hair. It was all right. Everything was all right, "We better get to the hospital."
++++++++++++
Jared was sitting up in bed; his foot elevated above his heart. Though loaded with pain killer he knew as soon as they entered the room they'd figured things out, "Got it figured out, huh."
Maureen leaned up and kissed Cal's left cheek. She unconsciously lifted her right foot as she completed the oscillation, "Yeah, we got it grandpa."
Jared looked at his grandson, "That makes me feel good." He looked at Maureen, "When's the wedding?"
She was resting her head on Cal's left arm. Her left hand was fiddling with his belt; adjusting his T-shirt back in his pants. She had her right arm around his back at waist level, "As soon as you're up and about."
The old man, cocked his head a little to the right, half smile on his lips and said, "Maybe the end of September."
She slipped over, put her left hand around his head, "A September bride." She whispered it in a wistful, breathy, ethereal voice.
"I'm a little worried about something though."
"What's that sir," Cal assumed his standard obedient tone.
"I'm not sure I want you to use your grandmother's old rings."
Maureen's eyes widened in surprise; Cal stood there nonplussed, more than a little surprised.
"I mean they're nice and all, but maybe they'd be better used in another way."
Maureen started to ask what that might be, but Jared stopped her, "I mean I think I'd like to buy you two some real expensive rings." He gave Cal a fixed look, "Never got a chance with your grandmother. Thought I could do it now. Then we could take these old rings and make something else, like a necklace or some sort of broach. I'm no jeweler, but I bet somebody could come up with something. Besides, your mom never got..." The old man didn't finish; he glanced away, then added, "You know."
Cal gave a noncommittal nod, "I see. The thing about the rings; that might work. Maureen what do you think?"
Maureen successfully held her excitement in check. Growing up she'd never exactly been what people called a wall flower or ugly duckling, but her years of invalidism and the therapy had led to some serious day dreaming; a really big diamond had been something she'd looked forward to, "I like these," pointing to the one ring on her finger, "but I think having one of my very own would be nice too."
The old man took her hand and pulled her closer. He was tired, and the medications made him groggy, still, he needed to touch the girl who would be his granddaughter; the young woman who would make his great grandchildren. He didn't have anything to say. He just wanted to experience her physical presence. She made him happy.
"I think we better leave so grandpa can get some rest."
Maureen nodded, agreeing with Cal.
Jared said, "You get home and tell your mother and father."
Cal asked his grandpa, "What about us knowing."
Jared growled, "No, tell them you're both worried about global warming." He looked at Maureen, "He can be thick sometimes. Try to keep him in line."
She wiped an errant tear from an eye. In a raspy whisper, "I will."
++++++++++++
Cal and Maureen left Jared in the emergency room. He looked frail, a lot worse than the injury warranted. They both silently and separately wondered if he'd be around much longer. Maureen secretly hoped she'd already gotten pregnant. Seeing the old man hold his first great grandchild would be sort of nice.
As they traveled back to see Andrea they passed a of myriad sights neither had paid much attention to before, but this time, on this trip, both seemed to be looking at things in different, newer ways.
The distance that separated the hospital from Maureen's childhood home was covered rapidly. Maureen noticed the many churches. There were two Baptist churches, a Catholic church, one for Presbyterians, two Methodist churches, a quiet little synagogue, and several nondenominational churches.
They'd have to pick a church. She wasn't Jewish, but she thought she might have had a Jewish grandmother. She thought Jewish people had it wrong. That was OK though. She figured God wouldn't hold it against them. Besides she sort of thought Christians and Jews needed each other; like they were stuck in this bad marriage that neither wanted to leave.
The smart thing to do was be an atheist. She'd thought about it, but she didn't think God would approve. That sounded silly, but not believing in God was about the silliest thing one could do. He was here. She knew he was here. She knew because he talked to her all the time when she was little.
She'd never been much of a church goer growing up. The hospital where they'd worked on her had been Catholic; it had a beautiful little chapel, and some of the nurses were nuns. They were all nice to her, and she thought the Catholics had things pretty much figured out. She could go that route; but preferred something else; the idea of a Pope being smarter than the Bible didn't make much sense.
Another thing she knew from what she'd read and been told was the Lutherans, Presbyterians, and most of the more evangelical groups sounded too damn dead sure. Anybody that sure was probably less sure than she was, and she sure wasn't sure.
From among all the denominations she thought the Methodists made the least sense, and by making the least they made the most. Based on what she'd read, and she'd read a lot about God when she was younger, figuring she might not be around all that much longer at the time, the Methodists always sounded like they had the most questions and the fewest answers. Based on what she'd read they never seemed to have any, what she liked to call, definitive answers. Everything always ended with the same thing, 'belief in things unseen', or more simply put what they called faith, simple faith. What was it; 'trust and obey, for there's no other way', and don't be telling other people they're wrong.
She thought the Baptists were just like the Methodists about most things, and they sounded friendlier. What turned her off about the Baptists was the Matthew thing, Matthew twenty-seven she thought. "Let his death be on our heads and the heads of our children." The way she saw it, if Jewish people had killed Jesus they'd have probably stoned him. Even if they had done it, or caused it to be done, she didn't think it was fair to blame millions of people for what somebody in a crowd said once two thousand years ago. Heck she'd read about all the lynchings and stuff in the South, and she certainly didn't want a lot of black people blaming her for all that. She felt bad about it, but she didn't want to be hated for it.
Still, all in all, any church was probably OK. They all had their points. She guessed it would all come down to which church had the biggest children's Sunday school, and which church had the best Vacation Bible School program. After all, wasn't church really about getting the kids off to a good start? And she and Cal were going to have a bunch of kids, and her kids were going to get the best. By the best she told herself that might not mean a lot of money or stuff, but it would mean a good family life, and a life brought up inside a church.
She figured Cal would go along with whatever church she picked. He was more a God guy, not a religion guy.
