Remembering You (16 page)

In the corner of her eye she noticed Grand-Paul’s eyes on her. He had no doubt noticed her looking at Dennis, for a wide grin filled his face. Ava quickly looked away and focused instead on the camera, pretending to make sure all the settings were right.

Dennis started with the first two letters that her grandfather had already read. They sounded fine, but she still wasn’t sure if it was that much of an improvement.

“Okay, now try these new letters, and really think about being here.” She pointed to the window. “Or rather out there in the Belgium countryside, cold, scared, alone.”

“Alone.” Dennis cocked one eyebrow and pursed his lips. “I can understand that feeling.” He cleared his throat. “Ready?”

Ava nodded and twirled her finger in the air to show that she was already rolling
.

“‘December 26, 1944. Dear Mom and Dad,’” Dennis read. His voice was soft, hesitant.

“‘I know it is not polite to ask for Christmas presents, but is there any way you could send me a wool hat to wear under my helmet? There are some that protect your head and neck and have small holes for your eyes and mouth. Also, don’t be concerned if my letters become less frequent. Know that I’m thinking of you all back home. We all think of those far away. Sometimes I write letters to you in my mind, saying all the things I don’t have time to write or can’t write because of censorship.

“‘There’s so much I want to tell you. I’ve never felt so alone in my life. My friends are with me, but there’s something wrong deep inside. I can’t explain it. Maybe that’s what war is. As much of a battle within as outside in this frozen place. Love, Jack.’”

“Wow,” Ava whispered. “Read this last one just like that. It was great.” She looked at her grandfather, and for a moment she saw that scared kid peeking out from his gaze.

Dennis nodded.

“‘January 2, 1945, Belgium. Dear Dad, I’m not sure why I’m here. I wish I could be anyplace but here. Something awful has happened in a place called Chenogne. I can’t tell you—’”

“Not that one.” Her grandfather’s voice interrupted Dennis’s words. “I didn’t mean to put that one in there.” Her grandfather reached for the letter. His face took on an ashen hue.

Before Ava understood what was happening, her grandfather ripped the letter from Dennis’s hand and pushed back from the table, stood, and then turned. He moved more quickly than Ava had seen him move in years.

“Grandpa, wait!” The cord was stretched between the camera and the wall, and before Ava could get to them, her grandfather’s leg and the cord connected.

She saw him going down, and she sucked in a breath, not believing what she was seeing. She stood and reached but couldn’t get to him in time. He tumbled to the ground. His arm hit first, then his shoulder, and finally his head. His head bounced off the floor with a crack.

A gasp escaped Ava’s mouth, and then her hands covered her face.

Grandpa Jack moaned from the impact. Dennis sank to the floor, cupping her grandfather’s head in his hands.

“Go to the front desk. Have them get a doctor.”

Chapter Sixteen

It had been a long night. Even before Ava could get to the front desk, the waitress had alerted the manager. The village doctor had visited, declaring that Grandpa Jack was bruised but fine. Ava had stayed up most of the night watching him and somehow also managed to put together the second video, sending it off.

She’d used footage of her grandfather and Grand-Paul talking about the freezing winter, about how many of the towns in this area had been destroyed, and about how it felt good to see them fixed up.

Then, as images of the countryside, the American flags, and the memorials flashed on the screen, she added audio from the letter Dennis read. He’d done a good job of sounding like a young kid lost at war. They’d been together for two days, and he still was a stranger to her—a ghost from the past who haunted her with his presence and turned invisible whenever she tried to get close.

Even with little sleep, Ava roused herself by 7 a.m. to make sure she made it to the town square by 8 a.m. to videotape the chiming of the clock. The May air was cool and the square was quiet. All around her, shopkeepers were getting ready for the day. The only place that was already receiving traffic was the small bakery two doors down from the hotel. Old women, young women with strollers, and small boys holding fresh bread strolled through town. It seemed like such a simple life—so different from Seattle—and a longing tugged at her heart, surprising her. She videotaped some of the town too. Not for the videos, but for her. To remember.

She counted down the time with the clock and turned on her video camera as it got close. When the minute hand clicked to the twelve, the “Star-Spangled Banner” chimed again and emotion filled her throat.

When the chiming stopped, she packed up her things and walked back to the hotel. As she approached, she noticed Dennis leaning against the rental car, his arms folded on the roof and his face buried in his arms. His shoulders shook, as if he was laughing, but from his position, it had to be tears. She quickened her pace, the weariness of the night slipping away.

As she crossed the street, the wind picked up. Ava took a hair tie from her wrist and pulled her hair back. Her heart seemed to double in size at the sight of Dennis—his tan neck and the way his dark hair curled so slightly at the nape. His broad shoulders. His arms. He was strong, but at this moment he looked like a lost little boy.

“Hey there.” Ava placed her hand on his arm. “Are you okay?”

He wiped at his face and then patted her hand. His eyes were puffy and bloodshot.

“Dennis, what’s wrong?” Her brow furrowed and her heart quickened, knowing what it had to be. “Is it Grand-Paul? Is he all right?”

Dennis rubbed his forehead. “My grandpa hadn’t zipped his suitcase all the way and his medication fell out. I’d seen him taking stuff every day, but I didn’t know what it was till I picked it up. There were a lot of different things. Not your typical blood pressure stuff. Ava, I came down to the hotel lobby and used their computer—I didn’t want to wake him up by getting my computer out. I looked it up and I discovered that the medication he’s on is for cancer patients.”

Ava’s knees weakened. “Cancer?”

“It gets worse. He doesn’t want treatment. The doctor has given him less than a year—that’s if everything goes well. The medication is just to help with some of the symptoms and for pain.”

Dennis opened his arms to her. Looking into his face, she didn’t see the man who’d tried so hard to keep her at arm’s length. Instead, she saw the eighteen-year-old boy she had fallen in love with. Without hesitation, she stepped into his embrace. His shoulders trembled again.

Her breath stuck in her throat, and she tried to think of something to say. Something to comfort him. There was nothing. She felt his pain, but there was nothing she could do to fix this.

Not counting the quick hug at the airport, this was their first embrace in fifteen years, but it wasn’t exactly like she had imagined. She pictured Grand-Paul’s face. During this trip, she’d noticed his need for extra help, his pallor, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea he didn’t have much time. His mind was so sharp. And her grandfather. How would he go on? First losing his wife and now his best friend?

Leaning on Dennis’s strength, she felt his chest rise and fall quickly, as if he was trying to hold sobs in. She focused on the beating of his heart, for a time forgetting where they were and the answers she was trying to uncover.

“Oh, Dennis.” She wanted to say more but didn’t know how. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. Why didn’t he tell me, Ava?” Dennis’s breath was warm on her hair. “Why did he hide it?”

“He didn’t want to worry you.”

“He said he needed this last trip. He said he was looking for an answer to something but didn’t say what. He also said coming here was for me more than him.”

“A last trip for the two of you together.”

“This can’t be happening.” Anger laced Dennis’s voice. “I can’t lose my grandpa. Part of me believed he’d always be here.” Dennis blew out a long breath. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know how I could have faced this alone.”

Finally, Dennis released her. She stepped back and looked up at him. “I’m glad I could be here too. I just don’t know how I’m going to look at him and not burst into tears.”

“You gotta try, Ava.
We’ve
got to try. We need to finish off the trip the best we can. We need to fulfill his last wish to experience the ceremony at Mauthausen concentration camp.”

“I’m here. For him, for you.” She patted Dennis’s cheek with her hand. He hadn’t shaved that morning, and his stubble was scratchy. Then, as if he realized their closeness for the first time, he scooted to the side, putting more distance between them.

As she looked into his eyes, Ava could almost see the invisible wall rising as he put distance between them once again.

She took another step back and brushed back the stray hairs blowing against her face. She looked up to the sky, noticing the sun slip behind a cloud and wishing the warmth of just a moment ago had hung around longer.

Ava’s cheeks grew warm as they entered the lobby and then made their way to the small restaurant. Grand-Paul and Grandpa Jack were already there. Even though there were plenty of open tables, the elderly men sat at a table set for two—leaning toward each other, talking in low tones. Ava tried not to let her eyes linger on Grand-Paul. She was pleased to see that her grandfather looked fine. Even though he lifted his fork with a shaky hand, he looked no different than he had since they’d been there. There was no evidence of his tumble last night except for a slight scratch at his temple.

Ava and Dennis approached, and Grand-Paul glanced up, as if he was surprised they were there. A Bible was open on the table between them.

“I hope you kids don’t mind. I haven’t seen my buddy in a few years, and we have some catching up to do—private stuff. Can you get your own table this morning?”

“Sure.” Ava looked at Dennis. She didn’t like the idea of their grandpas whispering between themselves. What things could be private that they couldn’t share?

Dennis scanned the room. “You pick.”

She picked a spot four tables away. Far enough that they couldn’t hear conversation but close enough to keep an eye on the guys.

Ava spread her napkin on her lap. “That was strange. But I’m glad to see my grandpa’s doing okay. I had no idea he would react like that simply from the reference to Chenogne.”

“Me neither.” Dennis opened his menu and stared at it, yet from the strumming of his fingers on the glass tabletop, there was more going on in his head than deciding what to order for breakfast. His eyes were still bloodshot, but she could tell from his gaze there was something else bothering him.

“Dennis, are you sure you can’t fill me in a little about my grandpa’s experience in Chenogne? I looked it up last night but didn’t find much on the Internet—just that there was fighting there and that it was near Bastogne.”

“Ava, when are you just going to let this drop?” He let out a low sigh, and he leaned forward, looking into her eyes.

“Well”—she closed her menu—“maybe it’s because you seem to know a lot about all this World War II stuff. I mean you knew something about…the girl.” She whispered the last two words. “It’s obvious you’ve taken time to learn about your grandfather’s experiences. You’re doing better than I am.”

“Aren’t you going to try to earn your grandfather’s trust?” It was the same thing Dennis had said before, but this time his voice was gentle, as if he was speaking to a child. If this was him acting nice, she didn’t like it much.

“And what if he never brings it up?” Her voice squeaked, and a couple at the other table looked at her, curious. She pressed her lips together and ignored them, placing her red-and-white checkered cloth napkin on her lap. This was too important to try to act nice about.

The waitress approached, and Dennis ordered ham and eggs. Ava ordered the same, just so she didn’t have to think about it.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she said after the waitress left.

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I had a different reason earlier, but I have a new one now.”

She tapped her fork on the table. “And what’s that?”

“I don’t want to tell you because it makes you mad…and you’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

Ava opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her heart pounded in her chest. She smoothed her hands on the napkin on her lap. “Should I say thank you?”

Instead of answering, Dennis glanced back at the grandpas and then looked back at her with a wistful look. “Give your grandfather some time. He’ll talk about it when he’s ready—everything. I have a feeling that’s why he’s here. To face the past. To put what pains him to rest.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Dennis shrugged. “I have a feeling he will. In his own time.”

Their breakfast came and Ava pondered his words as she cut her ham into small pieces.

As they ate, they briefly discussed their travel plans to Prüm, Germany, and the brief stops they would make at the American military cemeteries at Margraten and Henri-Chapelle. They were the last resting place for thousands of American servicemen.

“There’s something else I wanted to talk about,” Ava said when there was a pause in conversation. “It’s you. I’m not sure if you’re purposely trying to be aloof, but since we’ve been on this trip I haven’t learned one thing about your life.” She tapped her lower lip with her finger. “Tell me about your life, Dennis.”

“What do you want to know?” He wore a smirk. He ate European style, with his fork in his left hand and his knife in his right, using both to cut and maneuver his food on his plate.

“Last I heard, you were living in some third world country, India or Uganda or something.”

“I’ve lived in both.”

“What were you doing there?”

Dennis shrugged as if what he did wasn’t that important, but the intense look in his eyes told her differently. “Hands-on stuff mostly. In the past ten years I’ve led two dozen groups of people, and we’ve built a few orphanages overseas. I also oversaw the digging of some wells. It was the folks with me who did the work. They get the credit. I was just honored to organize and help out in my small part.”