The Winner's Game(27)
That doesn’t satisfy Bree. “Is it because of Ann? You guys didn’t used to fight so much before she got sick.”
A heavy silence fills the darkness for a moment. Then Mom says, “Having her sick has certainly put an added strain on things, but it’s not Ann’s fault. It’s nobody’s fault but mine and your father’s. I think somewhere along the line we’ve forgotten how to love.”
I can’t keep quiet any longer. “You mean you don’t love Dad anymore?”
She doesn’t seem surprised that I’m awake. “No, Cade. I love your father. And I think he still loves me too. But there is a difference between loving someone, and loving someone. Does that make sense?”
“No.”
She takes another moment to think. “You know what a noun is, right?”
Does she think I’m a second-grader? “Of course. Person, place, or thing.”
“Good. And what’s a verb?”
“An action word,” says Bree.
“Exactly. Well, love is both. A noun—a feeling that you have—and also a verb, the way we show someone we love them. Right now, I think your father and I still feel the noun, but we’ve lost sight of how to live the verb.”
I don’t completely understand what she just said, but I get the basic idea. Bree seems to get it too. “So what happens to your noun,” she asks, “if you don’t start figuring out how to verb? Does the noun eventually go away?”
“I don’t know, Bree,” comes the sad reply. “I just don’t know.”
Chapter 11
Emily
YESTERDAY AFTERNOON was like a dream. It was perfect and sublime. Our family was together. We were happy. After Dell and I returned from Home Depot, we spent the rest of the afternoon with the kids doing nothing but beach stuff: walking on the sand as a family, collecting shells, building sand sculptures. We even explored the tide pools near Haystack Rock while the tide was out.
Then we went out to dinner and the tides abruptly changed.
Everything changed.
As I wake up this morning, it’s as though Dell’s angry departure has cast a pall on the whole world, including the weather. A steady rain is pouring off the roof, signifying the dawn of a terrible day.
When the kids are finally up and going, I inform them that we’re going to see Great-grandma Grace.
Cade is the first to ask if he can just stay home.
“She misses you guys,” I tell him. “You all need to come.”
“But I don’t want to see someone who we know is dying.”
Ann puts her hands on her hips. “We’re all dying, Cade. Just some of us sooner than others.”
Now I place my hands on my hips too. “Ann Marie Bennett, please don’t say things like that.”
She shrugs it off. “It’s true.”
“Yes, but…just don’t, OK? I don’t like to hear it.”
When everyone is ready to go, I grab an old key hanging on a hutch in the entryway.
“Are we driving there?” asks Ann.
“We could walk, but we’ll be awfully wet.”
Bree is suddenly all smiles. “So we get to drive in Grandma Grace’s car?”
“It’s the only one we’ve got.”
I knew they’d love to putt around in Grandma’s car this summer, which is why I insisted on leaving our other car back in Portland. Well, that, and I hoped Dell would stay longer with the van.
As we head outside to pile in, I can’t help but admire the thing, but then I’ve always loved this car. My eyes dart from one feature to the next.
Deep-burgundy paint. Chrome grill. Whitewall tires. Fancy headliner. Flowing curves from bumper to bumper.
It’s a 1949 two-door Plymouth Special Deluxe Coupe, in pristine condition. The custom license plate reads, “49-R.” The older girls have been in it a dozen or so times, on special occasions, but Cade has only been in it once or twice, and it’s clear he can hardly wait to do it again, because he’s the first one inside.
Before starting it up, I remind them that it was the first car my grandparents purchased together, and they’d decided to never get rid of it. “It didn’t always look so nice, but Grandpa restored it a couple of years before he passed away.”
“Are you sure you know how to drive it?” asks Ann.
I give her a puzzled look. “Didn’t I ever tell you?”
“What?”
“You know my mother passed away when I was in high school, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, my father had to travel a lot for work back then, just to make ends meet, so I spent much of my senior year living with my grandparents. This thing was pretty rusty at the time, but they let me drive it to high school. I called it the Walrus.’”