The Charm Bracelet (25 page)

Arden leaned in and hugged her mom. “Will you help me add it?”

“Of course,” Lolly said.

And then the two made a drift of snowflakes, no two alike.

*   *   *

Arden awoke with a start. She sat up quickly, snowflakes tumbling off her head and back.

A person of many dimensions,
Arden thought.
What happened to my angles, my muchness?

She went to bed, dragging the quilt, snowflakes trailing behind her, and dreamed of winter and the time in which she had the courage to fight for what she loved in life.

 

Thirty-two

Arden stopped in the lobby of Lakeview Geriatric Center and checked her hair in the mirror. She had “borrowed” a pink top from her daughter, which didn't go unnoticed when she tried to sneak out of the cabin.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Lolly had asked, as she and Lauren sipped coffee on the screened porch and worked a puzzle.

“And in
my
clothes,” Lauren added.

“A quick errand,” Arden had said, trying to rush by them.

“You look very pretty for a quick errand,” Lolly said. “Looks like more of a mission.”

“And I'm taking the Woodie, too,” Arden added, jangling the keys.

“But I have to work later,” Lolly called.

“Take our car,” she yelled, jumping into the Woodie. “I need this … for luck!”

Arden had watched as Lauren and Lolly gave each other a suspicious look and bewildered shrug—both mouthing
for luck?
—as Arden pulled the Woodie past the screened porch.

“Can I help you?” the receptionist asked, jolting Arden from the memory as she was applying some of Lauren's “borrowed” gloss to her lips.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Arden said, suddenly embarrassed. “I'm here to see Jake Thomas.”

“Is he expecting you?” the receptionist asked.

“No … well … no, he isn't,” Arden fumbled, grabbing a big bag brimming with food off a table in the lobby and giving it a shake for emphasis. “It's sort of a, well, surprise. I brought him lunch.”

“Oh, you must be Arden,” the receptionist said, smiling.

“What? How…? He's talked about me?” Arden finally noticed the little gold sign in front of her that stated the receptionist's name. “Really, Patty? He has?”

“He has. Many times,” Patty said. “All good things. He really cares for your mom, too.”

Too,
Arden thought, biting her lip to keep her from saying it out loud.

“Jake's in the music therapy room right now,” Patty said. “Big room next to the cafeteria. You can go on back. Surprise him.”

Patty gave a dramatic wink that Arden immediately believed could imply a million things. “Thanks,” she said.

As Arden walked down the brightly lit hallway, music bounced off the walls and echoed in the corridor.

Arden stopped and tilted her head.

“Frosty the Snowman”?
she thought.
To kick off summer? Am I still dreaming?

She stopped at the edge of the music room, poked her head around the corner, and did a double take.

Jake was playing a trumpet and sporting a Santa hat while standing in front of a group of roughly twenty seniors, all of whom were clapping and bobbing their grey heads vigorously.

His eyes were closed, and his body was one with the trumpet, swaying, swooping, dipping with each crescendo as his fingers flew over the keys and the brass instrument danced.

Arden immediately thought of famed trumpeters like Louis Armstrong, whose music her mother loved, and Doc Severinsen, who Lolly had watched for decades on
The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson
.

He looks so handsome,
Arden thought.
So lost in the music.

Arden began to nod her head along with the seniors, and she shut her eyes, again remembering the day her mother taught her to build a proper snow woman.

She didn't notice the music had even stopped until she heard Jake's voice boom, “Any requests?”

Arden popped open her eyes, her face immediately turning red, as twenty grey heads turned her way.

Arden vigorously shook her head no. Jake chuckled and walked over, wrapping one muscular arm around Arden's waist and pulling her into the room. Upon her entrance, he lifted the trumpet to his lips and played a dramatic flourish, as if she were royalty.

Arden giggled.

“We have a surprise visitor!” Jake announced in a faux English accent. “A queen of words!”

The seniors smiled, some giggling along with Arden.

Jake gave Arden a surprise peck on the cheek and whispered into her ear, “It's good to see you. I'm in the middle of music therapy. It can really help patients with MCI and dementia recall memories from their past.”

Arden again thought of the snow woman, and then of the snowflake charm.

“Actually,” Arden said aloud, surprising Jake as well as herself, “I do have a request: ‘Let It Snow.'”

A few of the seniors clapped their approval.

Jake bent at the waist. “Anything for m'lady.”

And, with that, Jake lifted his trumpet, and Arden could have sworn she was once again in the middle of winter, happy for the holidays.

*   *   *

“So? What prompted this surprise?” Jake asked, taking a healthy bite of the roasted turkey sandwich that Arden had picked up at a farm stand and deli on her way to see him. “This sandwich is awesome. It's like we had planned this.”

Arden smiled at the deeper meaning of his sentence. As she watched Jake eat, she thought of the little farm that had seemed to call to her—like the dream she had last night—as she was driving. The farm stand was beyond adorable. It was lined with baskets overflowing with homegrown produce: blueberries, early white asparagus, eggs, fresh herbed chèvre, beets, lettuce, and spinach. The deli was operated out of a restored barn, its old doors pushed open so you could see right through to the fields beyond, which were filled with bleating goats jumping around like excited children.

A man and woman draped in aprons ran the stand and deli, and they seemed to communicate to one another without saying a word.

Just a few weeks ago, I wouldn't have stopped there,
Arden thought.
I wouldn't be here. I want what that old couple have. I want what my parents had.

“I was supposed to call
you
for a date.”

“What?” Arden asked, returning from her thoughts.

“I was supposed to call
you
for a date.” Jake stopped, his eyes twinkling. “Remember? So? Is this a date?” he continued, raising his eyebrows and nudging Arden with his knees.

“I'm the writer,” she said. “Let's call it a meet-and-greet.”

“Wow,” he said, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So romantic.”

The two were sitting on facing benches outside Lakeview. It was one of those stunning May days, as Lolly used to say, that made her “soul ache.”

Arden took a bite of her kale salad dotted with tart Michigan cherries and shook her head. She couldn't contain her smile.

I feel as giddy as a schoolgirl,
she thought
.

Arden lifted her face to the sky and let the sun warm her. The sun was playing hide-and-go-seek through the branches of the apple trees that circled the patio where they sat. The two had it all to themselves. No one else was eating outside. A clematis vine was just crawling to life on a trellis next to them, its green arms slowly stretching heavenward. Soon it would be filled with luscious, white blooms.

Arden inhaled.

It's not the only thing coming to life,
she thought
.

The scene felt so romantic, so sweet, that the two could have easily been dining on a tree-lined street in Paris.

It just feels so right,
Arden thought
.

As the two ate, their knees touched. Each time they did, a sudden sensor of heat and excitement pulsed through Arden's legs and body. She tried to act nonchalant, although she felt as if her heart were thumping out of her chest.

“I didn't know you played the trumpet,” Arden said. “Why didn't you ever tell me?”

Jake smiled. “I'm a man of mystery, I guess.”

“Did you take music in college?” Arden asked.

“Minored in music,” he said. “Played trumpet all through college … orchestra, jazz band, marching band … you name it.”

Explains the muscular lips,
Arden thought, again turning red.

“A real Renaissance man, huh?” she asked.

“I never thought of it like that,” he said, gesturing with his sandwich. “I always just pursued what I liked.”

Jake shot Arden a look as he finished the sentence, and then winked at her to reinforce the double entendre.

Arden's heart raced again.

“I like you, Arden,” Jake said suddenly. “I know all of this—me, your mother's health—is a lot to take in, but I just want to be honest.”

Arden's eyes met Jake's, but she couldn't match his words for some reason.

Being honest with my feelings has never come easily,
she thought
.

“Do you even realize how much you've changed over the last week?” Jake asked.

Arden nodded. “I think I'm starting to see.”

“You're becoming a whole person again,” Jake said. “Daughter, mother, friend, caregiver, reader, writer,…
date
…”

Arden laughed. “Again with the date?”

“That's why I play the trumpet,” Jake said. “It's an important part of me that I need to express. That's why you need to write again. It's an important piece of you. It doesn't matter if I ever play Carnegie Hall, but it matters that I let the world see
me
.”

He stopped and set down his sandwich, before standing and taking a seat next to Arden, their legs now pressed against each other.

“So many of my patients are haunted by the things they never did in life and the people they never became,” Jake said, looking into Lakeview. “They didn't have the power to stand up for themselves, to battle their fears, to show the world who they really were, all those beautiful…”

“Dimensions?” Arden asked.

“Exactly.” Jake smiled. “The worst thing in the world is to have regrets. You will always have a few, but they shouldn't be ones that keep you up at night.”

Jake stopped, and Arden knew instantly that he was going to kiss her. She could sense it, almost as clearly as she could smell the sweet, perfumed scent of the apple blossoms that filled the air.

Arden shut her eyes and let the moment sweep her away, images of a future life—season by season—pirouetting in her mind.

As their kiss ended, Arden put her hands on Jake's face and looked tenderly in his eyes.

I can see myself with this man,
she thought
.

And then she laughed.

“That bad of a kiss, huh?” Jake asked. “I tend to have that effect on women.”

“No, no, no,” Arden said. “I'm sorry. I just noticed you still have a little circle around your lips from the mouthpiece of your trumpet when you played earlier.”

Jake touched his lip self-consciously.

“No, it's cute. Really cute,” Arden said, before grabbing his face and kissing him again. “You have great lips.”

“So do you,” Jake whispered, grabbing her hand.

Arden put her head on his shoulder. “The apple blossoms smell so heavenly, don't they?”

“They do,” Jake said. “That's why they're our state flower. And Michigan is one of the top apple producing states in the country.”

“You
are
a person of many dimensions,” Arden said.

“You are, too,” he replied. “Hey? Can I ask you a question?”

Arden lifted her head. “Sure. Anything.”

“Why did you request ‘Let It Snow'?”

Arden smiled and tugged nervously at her earlobe.

“There's no need for that, Ms. Burnett,” Jake joked. “Just tell me.”

Arden tightened her grip on Jake's hand and then told him the story of her mother, her own fears, and the snowflake charm.

“She's right,” he said, when she finished. “We just want you to be the best, most well-rounded person you can be in this world. A whole person is a happy person.”

“That sounds like a bumper sticker.” Arden laughed.

“I just want you to be ‘muchier,'” Jake said softly, pulling Arden in for another kiss, the wind knocking a few delicately colored cherry pink and white petals off the trees, as if the two were kissing in a snowfall of blossoms.

 

Thirty-three

Arden's fingers hovered over her cell phone. She was having trouble hitting
SEND.

“Do you want me to do it for you?” Lolly asked, walking in from her afternoon at work, dressed in a bright purple sequined Dolly gown. “Jake is teaching me a lot about technology. All you have to do is…”

“I know how to send an email, Mom.” Arden laughed, thinking of her “date” earlier with Jake.

He's teaching me a lot, too,
Arden thought
.

“It's a work email,” Arden explained. “I'm trying to tell my boss to stop bothering me while I'm gone … and that I want to write for the magazine.”

“Good for you!” Lolly said. “I'm so proud of you!”

Lolly's face beamed with pride, and she took a seat next to her daughter on the glider, her sequins announcing her every move.

Arden looked at her mom, smiled, and then hit
SEND
, giving a squeal of nervous excitement after her cell had sounded its exit.

“No matter what,” Lolly said, nodding her head toward the lawn, “you're fighting for what you want, just like you did during that snowball fight so long ago. Remember?”