He was right. She was picking a fight. She was angry that he was leaving tomorrow. She was angry that she cared about him so much. She was angry that his “pure intentions” weren’t the ones her father meant, even though that was crazy. She hadn’t known him long enough to consider courting, let alone marriage. It was ridiculous. He hadn’t done anything wrong.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, Sam.” She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, then exhaled and opened them, muttering, “Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet,” as quietly as she could.
“Hey, what is that? That meditation thing you do. That’s Swedish, right? Something about love?”
She started walking again, but slower this time. He reached for her hand, and she let him hold her mittened hand.
He barely heard her whisper. “Norwegian. My Mom.”
She took a deep breath. “When she was dying, we were all brave. Upbeat, you know? But one afternoon she caught me crying. I started crying because I knew how much I was going to miss her. So much, Sam.” She bit her lower lip and a tear rolled down her cheek. “And she said when I missed her so much it was hurting, h-hurting my h-heart, I should close my eyes, and picture her face. And I should say ‘Noen elsket meg en gang. Jeg er velsignet’ to myself which means ‘Someone loved me once. I-I am blessed.’” Tears were streaming down her face as she finished speaking, but she made no move to swipe at them. They stayed where they fell. She bit her lip and inhaled through her nose, sniffling. “Sometimes it makes me feel better. Sometimes it makes me feel worse. But it always makes me remember her, and that makes me feel closer to her, whether it feels good or bad.”
“I bet she’s very proud of you,” he said gently.
“I doubt it. I haven’t done anything very special with my life.”
“That’s not true. You teach kids. You impact every one of their lives. You’re kind and thoughtful and good. Everyone in this town knows you and loves you. Any fool walking next to you at a Christmas Stroll could see that. Nothing special? Everything, Jenny, everything about you is special. I can’t believe you can’t see that.”
You don’t know, she thought to herself. She wanted more than this for me. C.S. Lewis had written at the time of his wife’s death “I never knew that grief felt so much like fear.” As Jenny emerged from the cocoon of grief following her mother’s death, she had clutched onto her family more strongly than ever. The ultimate question was childish but haunting: If I left for Great Falls and lost my mother, what would happen if I left again? Her mother’s wishes for her had taken a backseat to the gripping fear that demanded she stay close to her father and brothers. Jenny was sure she would have been a disappointment to her Mamma.
Still, she wanted to weep from the beauty of his words, from his kindness, his reassurance, the way he saw her. How will I bear to say good-bye?
“Sam…” she started, but fresh tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t finish what she wanted to say.
They stopped in front of the Prairie Dawn. His black-gloved finger swiped gently under each of her eyes in turn; then he touched her nose with a tap, smiling tenderly at her. “I’m sorry about your Mom, Jenny. I’m so sorry.”
She nodded, smiling for him, grateful for him.
“Thanks, Sam.”
“Now…no more crying or fighting, Pretty Girl. It’s our last day. We have a whole afternoon, and I was thinking…”
She looked up at him with anticipation, sniffling for the last time and giving him a fresh, hopeful smile. “Mmm?”
“I heard tell about some wildlife in these hills, and I am a pretty wild guy…”
“For Chicago.” She teased with good-humored sarcasm.
“For Chicago. That’s right. And I think I need to see if the wildlife in Yeller can hold a candle to the wildlife in the big city.”
“No contest.” She challenged, hands on her hips.
“So you say. Think you can take down a city mouse? Bold words, Kitten.”
“Time for you to see some of the park.”
“Meet you back here in an hour?”
She smiled at him, wishing she never had to say good-bye. “See you back here in half an hour.”
***
They started the driving tour by crossing under the Roosevelt Arch, and Jenny told Sam just to keep going straight on I-89, into Wyoming. Her plan was for them to drive the Grand Loop Road, about 140 miles, past Mt. Washburn and back to Gardiner. It would take them around the rim of the caldera, and they should be able to see a fair smattering of animals: bear, deer, bison, bighorn sheep, elk. She crossed her fingers. With wildlife, there were no guarantees.