ROAR (74 page)

“We all have different journeys to take in this life, and none of us knows when our journey will come to an end. We can’t stay here forever, so it’s a given we’ll all reach a point where the road ends. Sometimes, when we’re really lucky, our paths converge for a time with someone who makes living worthwhile.

“We enjoy sharing the journey with them for however long we have and learn what we can, until the day our paths veer away from each other. It happens to us all. None of us has a “get out of death” card we can play. Some separations are nobody’s fault. Just a part of life.”

He paused, as if waiting for those words to sink in, and Kristoffer winked at him with a smile. He’d figured it out. Finally.

“But just because they’re gone from our lives doesn’t mean
our
journey has come to an end. The hardest steps we’ll ever take are those first ones when we start down a new path alone. But, Kris, man, I’m so proud of you for opening yourself up, being vulnerable, and finding love again. It’s what Tori would have wanted. And what her parents and I have been urging you to do for a long time. I’m just glad you pulled your…” He paused, almost repeating one of his favorite military expressions that Kristoffer had heard more than a few times over the years. Kristoffer shook his head and smiled. “I’m glad you got your head on straight so you could see the path in front of you leading to Pamela.”

Me, too, Cuz
.

Gunnar then turned his attention to the others in the room. “I’ll leave you with a bit of a poem I think says better what I’m trying to convey.” Kristoffer thought he was doing just fine, but Gunnar read:

“We all have different journeys,

different paths along the way.

We all were meant to learn some things,

but never meant to stay.”

Gunnar returned to his seat behind Kristoffer and squeezed him on the shoulder. Surrounded by family who loved him, including the rock-solid woman seated beside him, Kristoffer marveled at his blessings.

Tori’s parents and Kristoffer had chosen not to speak. They’d said all they needed to say to one another and to Tori already. The chaplain returned, everyone stood and said a prayer, and it was over.

After receiving well-wishes from the staff and conveying his utmost thanks to them, Kristoffer walked up front and picked up the urn bearing Tori’s remains. As they made their way down the aisle, Pamela whispered, “We have a surprise on the lawn. Some of the more able-bodied patients got together and wanted to do a tribute to Tori.”

Curious, Kristoffer nodded and, still holding Tori’s urn, he, Pamela, and the other guests made their way out a side door. The patio was filled with pink helium balloons.

“Oh, Kristoffer! She’s sending you a sign.” Pamela rubbed his back. “Remember the one we saw together in the restaurant the night you asked me to wear your collar? I think that was from her, too.”

“There actually have been others, I was just not connecting them to Tori until that one you just mentioned. They always seemed to come at turning points where I had a choice to embrace life again or bury myself in the past.”

The activities director captured their attention as she explained that some of the patients wanted Tori’s loved ones to join them in releasing the biodegradable balloons, each of which carried an inspiring message with Tori’s name on it. The woman showed him a few of the quotes, some familiar and some new. “Each has a different saying,” she explained, “and I’ll provide you with the list of quotes later.”

He was blown away at how thoughtful the staff and Tori’s fellow patients had been—people who could never have really known her. He thanked everyone and set the urn on a nearby table when handed a pair of scissors to launch the first one. He paused first to look at the saying:

He read from the card, “This one reads: ‘The wound is the place where the light enters you,’ by the Middle Eastern poet Rumi.”

He looked at Pamela, whose tears conveyed that she probably interpreted the message as he did. His wound had been directly to the heart—when Tori had been yanked from his life. But through that gaping wound, a beam of light—Sprite—had entered. Because he’d made a conscious decision to choose light and life over darkness and the death from his wound, she’d healed him.

When he could see beyond the welling in his eyes, he felt for the place where the ribbon was tied to the balloon and cut as close as he could. As it floated away on the breeze, Iz’s ukulele-accompanied rendition of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” began to play. The uplifting music continued as others read their quote and released their balloon. The sounds of laughter and childlike joy surrounding them were yet more signs from Tori that she’d moved on.

He hoped that the balloons landed in the paths of those needing their words of hope and encouragement when at last they settled back onto the earth.

*     *     *

Pamela and her stepmother carried another tray of finger foods out to the buffet table they’d set up in the great room. “Monica, you’ve been such a help to me today. I’ve always enjoyed our times in the kitchen.”

“No thanks needed. I’m happy to help in this way.”

Gunnar had offered to arrange for caterers to prepare and serve the refreshments, but her stepmother had generously offered to stay behind at the house while everyone else attended the memorial service. Monica definitely shared a service orientation with Pamela, whose mother did as well. Perhaps both women had helped influence her in her choice to give back.

The voices and laughter in the room from reminiscing about Kristoffer’s and Tori’s life were a welcome transition following the bittersweet service this morning. She glanced over at him as he talked with his mother. He turned to her and smiled. Butterflies unleashed in her belly at how connected they’d become.

She returned to the kitchen for another bottle of cranberry ginger ale for the punch bowl. As she neared where her parents chatted amicably together, she couldn’t help but overhear Mom telling her dad about her plans to join Heidi at the Afghan school to work with the girls. She’d blown Pamela away with the announcement at dinner last night. Pamela wasn’t at all happy about it after the attack on the Kunduz trauma center, but Mom wouldn’t listen to her concerns any more than Pamela had listened to her dad’s warnings when she’d signed on to go to dangerous places like Chad and Afghanistan over the past few years. At least Gunnar looked out for Heidi and those at the school and would help keep Pamela updated.

When she returned to the family-filled room, she saw that Kristoffer was talking with Patrick. She filled the punch bowl and turned to find Kristoffer’s mother standing there. “Can I pour you a glass of punch, Mrs. Larson?”

“No, thank you, dear.” Her accent sounded more British than Kristoffer’s Connecticut-bordered-on-Rhode Island. Pamela had been surprised to learn the woman actually had been born in England. Perhaps it explained her seeming to be so reserved, which he sometimes interpreted as being cold.

“Is there something else I can get you?” Pamela asked.

“I wondered if I might steal you away a moment to talk.” She was dressed impeccably, right down to her pearls and shoe clips. The silver-haired matron had an aristocratic air about her, somewhat haughty, but that might be a defense mechanism. Kristoffer had doubts about how his mother felt about him, but based it primarily on his teenage years. Perhaps the two needed to come together as adults and let the past go there, as well.

“Why don’t we go out on the deck? It’s surprisingly warm for this time of year.” Pamela took her by the elbow and guided her out through the kitchen door.

“Would you prefer to sit, dear?” Mrs. Larson asked. “Being on your feet so much today must be tiring.”

Pamela thought at first she was encouraging her to sit because… No, of course not. She reassured her, “Oh, I’m used to standing long hours in my profession. But how about you?”

“No, I’m fine.” She looked out over the view a moment and avoided Pamela’s gaze. “I want to thank you for bringing Kris back to life. Seeing him lost and hurting was more than I could bear.”

“I love him more than anything in this world. Anything I can do to bring joy back to him, I will.”

The older woman turned toward her. “It takes a special woman to love a man with so many obstacles. I’m not sure we in the older generations would have been courageous enough to disregard social mores and do what makes us happy.” Pamela wasn’t sure if that was a backhanded compliment, but then Mrs. Larson smiled. “My son has a wild streak in him. Rebellious at times.”

Pamela had only begun to see some of that in Kristoffer, but from stories Gunnar told her, he had been rambunctious at the very least.

His mother continued. “But he’s as loyal as they come. He never abandons those he loves, even when he’s angry with them, as he was with me after the break-up of my marriage to his father.”

“I know he loves you. I had a lot of resentment toward my mother about my parents’ break-up, too, but as I’ve matured and learned some of what happened, it’s lessened. Have you ever explained to him what led to it?”

Mrs. Larson shook her head. “It didn’t seem appropriate for him to know at the time, but his bloody father had a roaming eye.” Pamela knew there was nothing to smile about, but now she knew where Kristoffer had picked up the British curse “bloody.” “It became too much for me after a while. But Kris was just a boy. He simply idolized his father. I didn’t want to come between them, although I didn’t expect his father to move away and start a new family, abandoning our son. I don’t see how his knowing now would even matter.”

Pamela got the impression the woman rarely shared her deepest emotions with anyone, so opening up like this must have been difficult. She seemed the type to close off and compartmentalize the pain and keep a stiff upper lip, much like Kristoffer did after losing Tori.

“Mrs. Larson, he is grown up now, and I think he’d be able to handle and understand that information better.” If nothing else, Pamela would like to see him grow closer to his mother. She truly must love him to have flown more than halfway across the country to be here with him this week. “Perhaps after things quiet down tonight and before you fly home tomorrow, you could take some time to share with him what you told me.”

“We’ll see.” A noncommittal response for sure, but who could tell? “I should let you return to your guests, but I hope you and Kris will come to Connecticut for the holidays. I’d like to get to know you better and hear more about the many adventures Kris was telling me about.”

Pamela smiled, surprised she’d been the topic of conversation. “I’d like that, Mrs. Larson.
Christmas in Connecticut
is one of my favorite holiday movies, too.”

Mrs. Larson smiled. “I’m afraid it doesn’t look quite like that these days, but it did in my youth out in the countryside.”

“As soon as I have my December schedule, I’ll let you know, but surely we can get away for at least a few days between Christmas and New Year’s.”

*     *     *

Overwhelmed by the day all of a sudden and running on very little sleep and copious amounts of black coffee, Kristoffer stepped outside the front door and walked to the side of the house for a few moments of solitude by the waterfall. There were no more words to speak to Tori.

He stood listening to the water and the chirping of the birds for an unknown time before deciding to go back inside and seek out Pamela’s arms. He turned just as she walked up and slipped her arms around his waist.

“It’s been a long week, hasn’t it? Can I get you anything, Sir?”

He held onto her tightly. “Just having you beside me is all I need.” They clung to each other, listening to the tinkling water tumbling over the rocks, which never failed to bring them both peace.

“Pamela, I’ve been blessed to be loved by two of the most amazing women in the world. I’m surrounded by family and friends who love me. My life is right where it’s supposed to be. I don’t know how long before the next big change, but whatever it is, I’m ready to face it head-on with you by my side.”

She remained quiet so long that he became worried and pulled away. Tear tracks stained her face, but she was smiling.

Pamela cleared her throat. “I was going to wait until after everyone left, but I want you to know that sometimes change isn’t bad.”

What now? He really was hoping for smooth sailing for a little while.

“Sir, we’re expecting a baby.”

He searched her eyes, thinking perhaps he was hearing things. “For real?”

How profound, man. She just told you you’re about to become a dad for the first time.

He had a million questions. “When did you find out?”

“I took a home pregnancy test the day before yesterday, but wanted to confirm it, so I had the lab at the hospital run it, too. It’s definitely for real, although I’m still pinching myself that it happened so fast given our ages and—”

He bent down for a kiss, happy to hear the news, but also to keep her from reminding him any further that he’d just turned forty-two a couple weeks ago. Hell, he’d practically be drawing Social Security by the time his son or daughter graduated from college. But the elation he felt right now made him feel like twenty-something again. This child would keep him young.

Not only had life given
him
a second chance, but it had given him and Pamela a chance at bringing a new life into the world.

He broke away, concerned suddenly. “Should you be resting? God of Thunder, you’ve been working your ass off the past few days—even more than usual. If I’d kno—”

It was her turn to cut him off when she placed her hand over his mouth. “I’m fine! It’s good for the baby if I remain active, so I’ll continue to work as long as my OB agrees it’s safe for us both. Based on my cycles, I should be due sometime in mid to late July, and I intend to take maternity leave at least through October.”

They’d need someone to help with the baby after she returned to work. With his at-home job, they could probably arrange to have someone in-house only part-time during his crucial work times, and then he could work at night after Pamela came home. He wanted to be a hands-on dad.