Page 47 of The Moonlight Healers

“Your lifewasthere,” Thomas urged. “It doesn’t have to be always.”

At his words, Helene felt a fragile thread of possibility unspool between them, a life that could be full, and safe, far away from the ruins of her home.

Thomas took Helene’s hand, the movement effortless, as though he had done it a thousand times. “Close your eyes. Now picture what it is you really want, what you’d most like to do, what it is you want your life to look like.”

Helene felt silly but did what she was told. At first she could see only the reality around her, Rouen and Honfleur, France. She had always expected she would stay there her entire life, work with her mother as a healer, marry a fisherman in town. It would be a quiet life of service, but she would find moments for herself, as she always had before the war, drawing, or bicycling out to the sea. But the war had made Honfleur claustrophobic, tainted by the German soldiers in a way she wasn’t sure would ever fade. Now she felt the lure of the wider world, all the places that glimmered beyond them. She saw herself living somewhere new, across oceans, like America, a place that was expansive, with wide-open land that raced toward infinite horizons.

She saw herself as an adult. She wanted to live with the same kind of purpose as Agnes, to exist as a light for the people around her, but she wanted to be softer, more open to the world, less weighed down by duty.

“Is it beautiful?” Thomas asked. He gripped her hand tighter.

Helene nodded as more of her life played out in front of her, until she could see the same world Thomas saw, one where she could be happy, where everything could be whole again.

There was the bang of a door on the other side of the ward and Helene’s eyes shot open.

“That’ll be Dr. Weber for rounds,” she said, reorienting herself. “I need to get back to work. And you should get some rest.”

“Before you go, ask me,” Thomas said, his grip on her hand still firm. “Ask me what I want to do.”

“What do you want to do?” she said with a small smile. She wanted to share his optimism just a few minutes longer. “With your after.”

“Go home first, for a little while. See my mother, because she worries about me. And my little sisters.” He stopped, and Helene saw sadness pass through his eyes at the thought of his family. “I’ll tell my father that I’m okay, that this wasn’t the terrible mistake he thought it was. And then I’ll say what I never could before, that I don’t want to work for him, that I don’t want to spend the rest of my life managing a textile factory, stuck inside every day, arguing about things that don’t matter. And he’ll be angry, for a while, but he’ll understand, and then…and then I’ll go somewhere.”

“Go where?” she asked, wanting to stay in this dreamworld of possibilities.

“Everywhere. For a while.” He let out a huge yawn. “Mexico. Asia. Africa even. And then I’ll stop when I find somewhere by the ocean, where I can live on the coast, and it never gets cold.”

Dr. Weber was making his way down the rows now. “I have to go,” she whispered. As Helene released his hand, she could feel a resistance, as though there were a force holding them together. “Good night, Thomas.”

Thomas leaned back on his pillow and closed his eyes. “Maybe California,” he murmured. “You’ll like it there too.”

His features softened, and Helene sneaked away, careful not to wake him. As she left, she felt lighter, her body floating away on the strength of his hope.

CROZET, VIRGINIA

2019

13

LOUISE

Louise found her grandmother in the garden, pulling weeds in a bed at the back of the yard.

She yawned deeply as she walked along the warm brick path. Peter was still sound asleep on the couch. They had stayed out until nearly sunrise, when the sky was fringed with pink over the mountains. They had talked about a thousand little things, each topic inconsequential compared to the reality of their present. But for a few, lovely midnight hours, things between them were the way they had always been.

“Morning,” Camille said as Louise approached.

“Sorry I slept in.” Louise crouched down beside her grandmother. She spotted a wilted hydrangea and considered letting her hands rest on the bloom, to practice, but her grandmother’s tense demeanor told her now wasn’t the time.

“You needed the sleep.” Camille removed her gardening gloves. She rose, acknowledged the pile of weeds, and sighed. “I garden when I’m feeling overwhelmed. Less now because it does a number on my back. But still, I find it therapeutic.”

She looked pale in the light of morning. Louise was used to her grandmother working up on ladders pruning trees or hauling huge bushels in the orchard, but suddenly she seemed frail.

Camille shoved her gloves into her pocket. “It’s a gorgeous day. Go up to the park. Take Peter. You can use my entry pass. Or Sugar Hollow. You remember that swimming hole up there from when you were little? It’s not far from here.”

The blurry memory came to the surface, a cool, clear river in the mountains, perching on smooth rocks, giggling as the water tickled her toes. Peter would like it there.

Camille smiled, but it was strained, like she was holding back. “Also, I asked your mom to come back here again. I’d like the three of us to sit down together before you leave for New York. There are things we need to talk about.” She patted Louise’s shoulder. “She said she could come this afternoon once she’s done with some appointments. So you might as well do something fun in the meantime.”

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