Page 8 of Below the Far Horizon
His dad seemed to be the kind of guy who only loved once in a lifetime. Trevor could understand that. There had only ever been one girl he had been interested in. He was one of those sorry sops who couldn’t seem to get his life together after the one girl he wanted left him without an explanation, and the next thing he heard, she was hugely successful and extremely happy and making a brilliant life in some city far away.
He almost laughed out loud at that. He knew exactly where she lived. Indianapolis.
They gathered up the rest of their tools, setting them in the toolbox on the back of his truck, and then hopped in the cab.
He drove back to his dad’s house, which was just outside of Raspberry Ridge, not so far that he couldn’t walk to the beach anytime he wanted to, but far enough that the one parade a year they had didn’t make it to his house.
“I hate to see you leave your job, but I guess you know that it’d be nice to have you hang around here.” His dad didn’t seem like he wanted to talk about the fact that he was growing older very much, but he was the one who brought the subject up.
“I want to move back home. You’re right, it was a good job. I had nice benefits, and the work wasn’t hard, just hard enough to be challenging. My boss was great, and my coworkers weren’t terrible. But they don’t compare to you, Dad.” He grinned over at his dad.
His dad just rolled his eyes and looked back out the window. He wasn’t much for talking about his feelings or anything like that. That was probably part of the reason he got in trouble with his wife. He figured their relationship was fine, and if there were any problems, he’d let her know. She, on the other hand, had tried to talk to him, and he hadn’t listened. He’d said that much over the years, and it sounded like he regretted it. Trevor knew that a life lived with regrets could be pretty miserable. He wanted to live such a life that he had few regrets.
He would always wonder whether or not he should have followed Grace to Indianapolis, when she’d been so gung ho about leaving. As far as he knew, she didn’t have a boyfriend that she was going to, just a job.
But Claire had been between them. Always had. And Trevor had hesitated. By the time he had things straightened out with Claire, Grace was gone.
They both got a drink when they went into the house, and Trevor washed his hands. His clothes weren’t super dirty, and he decided that he’d just wear them. He’d rather take his kayak out for a ride on the lake, but he didn’t want to have to unload all the boards on the back of the truck first. So a walk would have to do.
His dad went in and lay on the couch while he slipped outside, looked up at the beautiful spring day, and started down the street.
His dad hadn’t asked when he was planning on quitting, and Trevor hadn’t had to admit that he’d already given his two-week notice and worked it out.
He was back for good.
Part of him was excited about it, and part of him felt like he was moving backward in his life. After all, a person wasn’t supposed to go back to their parents’ house, back to their hometown, back to everything they’d left when they were young and full of hopes and dreams and aspirations and excitement to get it all done.
But over the years, he realized that he took more pleasure in the simple things. Family close by, a slower pace, the small-town life. And doing the woodworking he’d grown up enjoying.
He didn’t know whether he could make a business out of it or not, but he should be able to spend the next ten years living with his dad, living off his savings, if he was wise, and if the woodworking business took off, he might never have to go back to work.
Who said he had to do something big with his life? He could continue to work in a suburb of Chicago, putting in eight-hour days, forty-hour weeks, and not being truly unhappy, but knowing that there was something better he could be doing.
Why would he not want to spend his dad’s last days with him?
Even if it did mean going back to Raspberry Ridge where the worst memories of his life had happened.
But he didn’t have to dwell on the negative. And he wasn’t going to. He was going to enjoy this time with his dad, consider it bonus time, and make the best of it.
The healing garden had all the spring blooms bursting out of it and smelled amazing. He took a deep breath as he opened the little gate and walked in.
The garden was laid out in such a way that he couldn’t really tell if there was anyone else there. There were two cars in the lot, but those people could be in here or down on Pebble Beach. He didn’t think much about it. The garden was big enough for lots of people to have private space, but most likely, they were down on the beach.
It didn’t take long before he realized at least one of the people was in the garden. She was sitting on a bench near the waterfall which happened to be his favorite spot. There was just something about hearing the water trickling by. That, and seeing the crosses which represented the children who had died over the years from Raspberry Ridge. Dominic and his wife, who designed the garden, made a little memorial for all the kids after they’d lost their own son. He thought it was a great idea, even though he couldn’t really relate. He never had a child, let alone lost one, and he really didn’t know what that was like.
Still, the place was calming and soothing and beautiful. But she was there first, so he nodded at the woman sitting on the bench, who looked vaguely familiar, and kept on walking.
That was one of the problems with coming back to his hometown. Everyone either knew everyone, or they looked vaguely familiar. He didn’t know whether he was making it up, or whether he actually knew them. He was terrible at recognizing people, and typically other people figured out who he was first.
Chicago was a big town, and he never had that issue. But he obviously had the problem now, since the woman looked at him like she knew him. Then she looked quickly back down at the hands that were clutched together in her lap.
This was a place where people went to be soothed in their soul, not a place to remake acquaintance with people they went to high school with, so he kept on walking.
There were a couple of other spots he really enjoyed in the garden,and he ended up sitting by the tulips that were blooming profusely. They were pink and purple, and while pink was not his favorite color, he loved the deep almost black purple and the way the pink seemed to emphasize the darkness while bringing out the light.
It was done in such a way that he never got tired of looking at it and made a point to come here every year when the tulips were blooming. He sat down on the bench and thought about his dad, how many years he might have left, and whether or not he could encourage him to join a gym. Now that both of them were here together, they could drive down to Strawberry Sands in the morning, which would be the closest gym. Or he could see about buying some equipment to put in the basement of his dad’s house, which was unfinished but in good enough shape that it wouldn’t take much for him to turn it into a home gym.
Would that make it easier for his dad and him to stick to the workout schedule?
