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Authors: Lynda Meyers

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Letters From The Ledge (30 page)

BOOK: Letters From The Ledge
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CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

 

“After all...

I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her.”

-
Notting Hill

 

 

"You know, I can’t believe we never had to use that information I had on Frank. I can’t believe he backed down so easily." Paige leaned back as the server set her plate down in front of her. "Thank you."

"Believe me, I’m not complaining.” Nate took a sip of his Sapphire and tonic. “Just keep it handy. Snakes tend to lie in the grass, biding their time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He may not be finished with this yet."

"Well, so far Kevin hasn’t fired me, so that’s encouraging."

"Did you ever tell him what happened?"

"I did–for integrity’s sake. He apologized and promised to back me if it ever came to blows."

"Blows?"

"Rumors, blacklisting, that kind of thing."

"How chivalrous." Nate smirked.

"Saving his own skin is more like it, but that’s ok too." Paige smiled. “I’ll take what I can get.”

"That’s mighty righteous of him, considering he’s the one who forced your hand in the first place."

"It’s over and that’s all I really care about right now.” Paige shook her head. “Let’s just cross each bridge as we come to it, shall we?"

Nate’s stomach began to twist but he pushed back against the feeling. "Fair enough." He buttered a roll and looked at her out of the corner of one eye. "You know, I have been working on that ‘possessive’ thing."

"I know."

"But I don’t have it down yet, so–"

She grabbed his buttering hand and put hers on top of it momentarily. "It’s ok. Most of the time I think it’s cute."

He rolled his eyes and finished buttering his roll.

"Do you ever hear from Brendan? It's been a while. How's Europe treating him?"

"He emails me every so often, just to check in I guess." Nate was twirling Pasta on his plate. "He’s supposed to be back in the States next weekend."

Paige sipped her wine and speared some lettuce. "Then what?"

"I’ve offered him a job, and a temporary place to stay if he needs it."

"Really?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"I guess not." She smiled. "You just never stop surprising me."

"The kid is amazingly talented, and he’s worth something. He just needs a little kick start." He pushed the pasta around some more. "Most of all he needs to know that somebody believes in him. We all need that."

When he looked up at Paige she was staring at him. "Like you believed in me?"

He just nodded.

"You know, I believe in you too."

"Thanks." He grabbed at another scoop of pasta but Paige was still staring, not moving. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah, I am. It’s just–there’s something I wanted to talk to you about."

He laid his fork down and rested his forearms on the table.

"Would you mind closing your eyes?"

"Bewildered over here." He closed his eyes. "Compliant, but bewildered."

"Now keep them closed."

He could hear some rustling going on and things being moved around on the table.

"Ok. You can open them."

In the space where his plate used to be, a red velvet box sat open in front of him. In it was a white-gold ring with three diamonds embedded in the band.

"You father said this is the man’s equivalent of an anniversary ring. The three stones are supposed to represent yesterday, today and tomorrow."

"My father?" Nate kept on blinking, looking from the box to her face and back again. He couldn’t wrap his brain around what she was trying to do. "What’s it for?"

"The day before you moved out you told me that you wanted me to come to you when I was ready. When I wanted it as much as you did. Do you remember that?"

He nodded, speechless.

"Well, the truth is, I’ve counted the cost, and being without you is just too damn expensive. I can’t afford it. The apartment is too cold; too quiet. I’ve loved this season of dating you and being apart. It’s shown your love for me in ways I couldn’t even comprehend at first, but I can see now where it was necessary. When we were on that bridge in Switzerland you said you wanted to give me my wings. You wanted to watch me fly. You’ve done that, and I want to thank you."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

"You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and some things I hadn’t even thought of. And now I’m ready to fly home to you, Nate. I’m ready." She took both of his hands in hers. "Will you still marry me?"

A muscle jerked in his jaw and he shook his head, incredulous. "Yes–yes!" His head bobbed up and down about a hundred times a minute. He stood, pulling her up out of her seat, circling gently and setting her back down again. "I thought you’d never ask!"

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

 

"If the professor calls about that job, just tell him sorry,

I have to go see about a girl."

- Good Will Hunting

 

 

"Can I get a couple of eggs over easy, an order of rye toast and some coffee?"

"Sure thing. I’ll just put this up and be right back with your coffee." Sarah came around the corner of the breakfast bar and tacked the order sheet onto a metal wheel, then spun it so it faced the cook. Turning back around, she grabbed the coffee pot and filled the man’s cup. Moving down the line she came to a man holding open a section of the newspaper.

"How about you. Are you ready?"

Brendan dropped the newspaper and flashed her favorite smile. "Yeah. I think I finally am."

Her hand clamped over her mouth as she stifled a scream. Wide-eyed, she stood shaking her head back and forth.

"Could you remove your hand from your mouth, miss?" Brendan tried it as an official-sounding command.

When she dropped her hand, he stood up and leaned across the counter. Taking her face in both of his hands, he kissed her.

The man in the booth called out "Does that mean I’m not gonna get my eggs?"

All the other customers laughed and Sarah opened her eyes, trying to look around the place while still attached to Brendan’s lips.

When they pulled away, Brendan was still smiling. A graying woman in her early fifties was standing next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. She inclined her head toward Brendan. "This him?"

Sarah nodded. "Brendan, this is my aunt Margie. Aunt Margie? This is Brendan."

"Pleased to meet you ma’am."

He extended his hand but instead Margie pulled him into a hug and patted him soundly. "We don’t do with formalities around here. The sooner you figure that out, the better."

He looked over Margie’s shoulder at Sarah, who was trying not to giggle and being no help at all. Margie released him and proceeded to take the pad and pen out of Sarah’s hand. "Don’t you think it’s about time you took a break?"

Sarah smiled up at her. "Thanks momma."

"Now get outta here." She whacked Sarah on the rump to get her moving. "And don’t come back until you’re good ‘n done."

Sarah quickly removed her apron and ran out from behind the counter. Everyone in the place applauded as Brendan held the door and they walked quietly outside.

He shook his head. "Well, that wasn’t embarrassing at all."

"Sorry. It’s like one big family up here." They walked quietly along the harbor for a little while. Finally she stopped to lean up against a railing. "What are you doing here, Brendan?"

"So far, mostly exploring the hills and the town."

"You mean to tell me you’ve been here more than five minutes and the locals haven’t ratted you out? Impossible!"

"I got in yesterday, but I’ve kept a pretty low profile." He leaned in toward her as he spoke, and her warmth felt almost too good. "You were right, you know?"

"About what?"

"This place. These hills." He looked up toward the place he’d spent the better part of the morning. "It does make you want to fly. And it’s nothing like New York."

"Surely the things you saw in Europe this summer have rivaled this place."

"No, I’m pretty sure the view around here is about the most beautiful I’ve ever experienced." He turned to face her. "I’m sorry for the way I treated you when we were in New York."

She looked down at her feet, but didn’t reply.

"I was pretty confused for a while there."

"I know. It’s ok."

"No, it’s not–not really. We started something that I never finished. I walked away without letting you know how I really felt."

"And that’s why you’ve come?"

"Partly, yes."

She stood with her arms folded across her chest. "I’m listening."

"You look like Aunt Margie."

She smiled at him but didn’t move a muscle.

He took a deep breath and nodded. He’d rehearsed the speech at least a hundred times, but now, standing in front of her, it was a lot harder than he’d imagined it. The words stuck to the roof of his mouth like peanut butter.

Sarah’s head tilted slightly. "You wanna take a hike?"

"Are you trying to get rid of me already?" Brendan grinned.

"I meant together."

"Are you sure your aunt won’t mind?"

"She doesn’t actually need me. She just lets me work there to give me something to do. It’s a relatively small town and it’s not like there’s ever a lunch rush or anything. How about I run back and get my sweater and pack us some sandwiches. We can have a picnic."

"I’d like that."

 

Later as they walked up the side of the hill Brendan told her all about the places he’d traveled and what he’d been doing. Three magazines had bought pictures from him and he was planning several more submissions. They stopped about halfway up the hill and sat on a couple of large, flat boulders. She closed her eyes and leaned back on her arms, letting the wind blow through her hair. He got his camera out and started snapping pictures.

"You’d better be photographing the landscape mister."

When she opened her eyes the camera was pointed right at her. He looked out at her over the top of the viewfinder. "Sorry. Can’t help it."

"Turn around, genius. The real view is that way."

"I would have to disagree."

"Flattery will get you nowhere."

He smiled. "I would have to disagree."

She closed her eyes again, shaking her head. "If I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist, right?"

"Why don’t you like having your picture taken?"

"I don’t know. I just don’t. It makes me feel self-conscious."

"Ok, landscape it is. Mind if I walk around here for a bit and try to get a better angle on the harbor?"

"Have at it." Eyes still closed, she waved at the air with her hand. "This is my favorite rock. Just wake me up when you’re finished."

He walked all around the perimeter and snapped several more shots of her laying on the rock, with the harbor in the background. "You’re right. The harbor is gorgeous from here."

She didn’t open her eyes. "I told you so."

He zoomed in on her face as she smiled with her eyes closed. The sun kissed the tops of her cheeks and danced off her eyelashes. He switched to black and white and tried a few more.

When she opened her eyes he snapped a few more of the harbor. She pushed up onto her elbows. "So, I hate to be blunt but…have you been clean all summer?"

He stopped and looked at her. "I haven’t been able to give up drinking altogether. It’s especially difficult in Europe. There’s virtually no drinking age and its so much a part of their culture. Believe it or not, being over there helped me to learn to slow down and drink more responsibly. I know that sounds like a copout but I’m serious. There’s something to the way Americans think about alcohol that fuels the addiction, I think.”

He shrugged. “Anyway, I haven’t smoked pot since I left New York, which is something of a miracle, seeing as I’ve been at it pretty regularly since I was about fifteen."

"And the cutting?" She was looking straight at him.

Brendan chuckled. "Don’t beat around the bush or anything."

"Look, you came all the way to Canada. We might as well talk about the real issues."

"You’re right. Sorry.”

He was quiet for a while but finally she broke the silence. "Has it been hard?"

"Pretty much the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’ve filled up countless journals with my thoughts, trying to sort it all out."

"And?"

He walked over and pulled up his right sleeve. "I seem to be healing nicely."

She sat up, looking at the decided absence of new cut marks. "You didn’t become ambidextrous while you were gone, did you?"

He pulled up the other sleeve and grinned. "No ma’am!"

She smiled and leaned her head into him. His slipped his arm around her shoulders but she spun out of his grip, slid off the boulder and kept walking. He got the message.

"So, did you go to the Paris Opera House?"

His face suddenly lit up. "Oh God, yeah. You were
so
right. It was amazing!"

A smile spread across her lips and she looked down at her feet. "I’m glad."

Brendan’s heart started to ache. She was there, but distant. The cut had gone deeper than he realized, and it was beginning to put a damper on what was supposed to be a great afternoon. He wanted to pull her into his arms and just hold on.

In all the time he was away, it was Sarah’s face running through his mind and tearing at his heart–not Tess’s. Tess was a memory from a different life when he was a different man. The man he was now was all Sarah. It had to be her and he knew it at the core, he just wasn’t sure how to explain it. Suddenly all the words he’d rehearsed felt canned.

At the top of the ridge Sarah spread a blanket and Brendan kneeled down next to the basket she’d brought, helping to lay out the sandwiches and drinks.

She looked up at him. "Just like old times."

He closed the lid on the basket. "Listen, I have to get this out, because if I don’t, I’m gonna explode or something."

She stopped unwrapping her sandwich and set it down. "Ok."

He sat down hard on his butt. "Besides, when you’re done hearing what I have to say, you might not want to have lunch with me."

She sat quietly, picking at the grass. "I’m listening."

"I had this whole speech prepared for what I was going to say when I saw you. It sounded good on paper, but it wouldn’t be the whole truth, and if we’re going to have any chance at all together, it’s got to start with the truth."

She raised her eyebrows. "What could be so bad Brendan? It’s not like we made each other any promises."

"I know that, but for all the time that you’ve known me–well, up until recently anyway, I’ve…been in love with a ghost."

"I know that."

"No, not really you don’t. And I want to try to explain.”

He told her the story of how he and Tess met, the struggles they’d both shared, and how abandoned he’d felt when she committed suicide. He told her about his journal and how it was full of letters he wrote to her while he was out on the ledge.

"So that’s what you were doing out there? Trying to muster the courage to join her? Some tragic Romeo and Juliet, ‘together-forever’ kind of a thing?" Her sarcasm was laced with anger and he got quiet. "I’m sorry. That was unfair, wasn’t it?"

"It’s ok." He pulled up a handful of grass and started picking through it. "We never had a relationship, Tess and I. I never even kissed her. Her stepfather used to…rape her whenever he got drunk, which was pretty often. She didn’t even like to be touched. And so, I–respected her boundaries. I figured when she was ready, we could try to start slow or something."

She was quiet for a long time. "I’m so sorry Brendan. That must have been horrible."

He kept picking at the grass. “When she died it threw me so hard that I didn’t deal with any of it for months."

"And then you met me."

"Yeah."
When Brendan looked over, her eyes were shining back at him. "Sarah, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"The last entry in your journal was a letter you wrote me. It’s dated two days before graduation. When did you know for sure that it was me?"

"A couple weeks before that."

"All that time and you never used the binoculars before?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"I don’t know, I guess I just didn’t want to ruin it. For a long time you were this unseen force in my life–this
enigma
. I never knew when you were going to show up out there–or if you would. And it pushed me farther. It caused me to question. It caused me to seek you out in my world–at least, my version of you in someone else’s body. I just didn’t know that you were actually…you. Funny, isn’t it?"

"Freaky weird is more like it." Brendan exaggerated multiple blinks.

"Yeah. Especially once my mind started playing tricks on me."

"Well, that’s another thing.” Brendan explained. “You’re not going to believe this."

"Try me."

"Remember what you wrote about those two angelic bouncers?"

"Yeah. Listen, I’m pretty sure I was seeing things. If you could try to forget about that part, I’d really appreciate it."

Brendan’s face was serious. "Sarah, I remember that night. I remember it clearly, which is pretty strange, considering the fact that I was really stoned."

"And?"

He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and began reading aloud:

 

Tess,

Life is getting more and more strange. Last night I fell asleep on the ledge. Last thing I remember is lying on my back, trying to see if I could levitate. I guess I drifted off. You know how you can be just about asleep, but then all of a sudden you have that falling sensation so you jerk yourself awake? Well, that’s what happened only when I woke up I was laying face down on the ledge with one arm and one leg hanging off of it.

I had a weird dream while I was asleep out there too. I dreamed I was falling–kind of floating actually, and there were these two big bouncer dudes who were throwing me out of a bar and I was like "Dudes–you guys are really strong". In the dream I woke up face down on the pavement in front of the bar and that’s the last part of the dream I remember before I jerked awake. It was a lot like the dream where I was kissing that girl. It felt so real that when I woke up I could still feel their hands around my biceps.

 

Sarah went white. "You’re not joking, are you?"

"I wish I was. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I read your journal. I mean, it’s not really possible, is it?"

She shook her head. "I don’t know. I told Jillian about it before I left. She said they were real angels. I told her she was crazy."

"You saw something with your naked eye at the exact time that I dreamed it. That’s pretty weird if you ask me."

They were both silent for a while. She looked up at him. "Does that mean you believe in God?"

"I don’t know. I’m not sure what I believe."

BOOK: Letters From The Ledge
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