Ironic, isn’t it?
How are Second Chances meant to end? To be sure, some endings are more satisfying the others……..for instance, the surprising fruits of a mad man’s delusional love.
But what about a satisfying outcome that produces a less-than-satisfying result, when winning feels a lot like losing……and resolution remains just out of reach?
With today’s October Years serialization, Chapter 27 of Second Chances, we end this part of out excursion into the sometimes daunting world of late-life relationships.
CHAPTER 27
Clint was quite willing for Saturday to be a sleep-in day. After a harrowing night that ended in Elly’s rescue, there was no reason to be up early, and certainly no reason to rob her of badly needed rest. He might have slept until noon, except for the clanging racket coming from the kitchen. Rolling off the couch, he slipped on his pants and shirt, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and walked to the kitchen.
“Do you ever sleep?” he grumbled.
Still on her knees, Elly looked up from the low cupboard to ask, “Where do you keep your frying pans?” Clint stepped around her to the other side of the range. From a drawer he pulled out two pans, one larger than the other.
Taking the smaller of the two, she explained, “If I’d known where things were I could have been quieter.”
“Elly! For God sakes, it’s only six-thirty.”
“Well, I couldn’t sleep. I was just lying there in bed, thinking how good it was not to be afraid.”
Indeed that sense of relief had been real and welcome. There was no need to complicate things by mentioning the disturbing dreams that had interrupted her sleep---the troubling images of Tom Berry’s pained grimace and pleading stare, the hurtful knowing that she was the cause of his distress.
“Which reminds me,” Clint remembered. “You scared the hell out of me in the middle of the night. That was you I bumped into on the way to the bathroom, wasn’t it?”
“Of course it was. Who else would it have been?” Her playful snicker gave way to laughter. “And I was certainly surprised at how little you wear to bed.”
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting company at that hour.”
Once the ingredients had been located they settled for a light breakfast and a quick read of the morning paper, before preparing for the business at hand. The dishes were in the dishwasher when Elly took a moment to spell out the morning’s schedule for Clint to consider. “If you’ll take me home I’ll get my spare keys. We can drive out to the park and get my car, then come back to the hospital.”
“That should work,” Clint nodded. “We don’t have to be at the courthouse until ten.”
It was a simple, straight forward plan, though their departure was enough to earn special attention from Mrs. Fenton, who lived directly across the street. From her porch she watched the two of them walk to the pickup and drive away, though she did not bother to return Clint’s exaggerated wave.
After stops at Elly’s and River Park, it was nearly nine-thirty when they pulled into the Tanner Hospital parking lot. There, climbing the front steps, Elly put her wishing into words. “I certainly hope Claudia got here like she said she would.”
“If she did I hope she’s not too discouraged,” Clint replied. “Gary might be out for a long time. And when he does wake up he’ll be mad as hell to see her there. I’ll bet the doctor won’t like that.”
“You are such a cynic.”
The door to Gary’s room was open, though there was no sign of movement inside. “Look,” Elly whispered. “She’s here.”
There was Claudia on the far side of the bed---sitting on the edge of her chair and leaning forward with her head on Gary’s chest. Like him she seemed to be asleep. Except for her presence the room looked the same as the night before, with Gary resting quietly in a web of tubes and wires while a green-screened monitor flashed and beeped.
For a moment they hesitated. Perhaps they ought to wait in the reception area and let Gary and Claudia have their rest. Then, as she turned to walk away, Elly noticed the slight, but deliberate movement. “Did you see that?” she whispered. “Look.” Then Clint saw it too.
Though his eyes were closed, Gary’s index finger was tracing a soft, tactile circle across Claudia’s face---moving lightly from her chin, over her lips, across her cheek, and back to her chin. From across the room they watched, hypnotized by Gary’s gentle touch.
Finally Clint nudged Elly forward toward the bed, moving quietly closer, until Claudia noted their movement and looked up. Her eyes had been open the whole time, watching Gary as he caressed her face. Now she raised her head to greet them.
“You have company,” she said, tapping on Gary’s chest.
Remarkably, Gary’s eyes flickered open long enough to make out Clint and Elly standing beside the bed. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “Hello there.” Then a moment later, “Look who I found.” And finally, “Actually, she found me.”
Clint was shaking his head as he struggled to will away the tears that filled his eyes. Beside him, Elly did not even try. She simply smiled her sweet smile and dried her eyes.
Claudia stood, flexing her shoulders and stretching her arms as she walked around the bed to embrace Elly and whisper, “It was just like you said.” There was no containing her smile. “Thank you so much.”
“Thank you for helping him come back. From the looks of you, I’d say it’s what you needed too.”
“Oh, yes. It’s the most wonderful feeling---knowing that he needs me like that.”
Elly flashed a no-nonsense ‘I told you so’ grin at Clint. Then, turning back to Claudia, “You stay here as long as you want. You have my cell phone number. Just call me when you need a ride home. You must stay with me while you’re in Tanner.”
“I could stay with Sarah. She wouldn’t mind.”
“Please stay with me. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
While the ladies visited, Clint took a step back to gauge his brother’s condition. Though Gary was obviously weak, his speedy return to consciousness seemed a hopeful sign. “Tell me, brother. How are you feeling?” he finally asked.
Without opening his eyes, Gary answered, “Pretty rocky.”
“You took a good hit.”
“I knew it was hard. Sounded like a gun going off in my head.”
Clint just grinned a bit at that. “Don’t you worry. Things will be getting better now.”
“They already are.” Gary’s voice was weak and raspy, but there was no denying the strength of his words. “Seeing that you and Elly are okay is good news. Last thing I remember Tom Berry was playing with a gun. That could have been trouble.”
“It was, for him. I’ll tell you all about it when you’re feeling better.”
Adjusting the aggravating oxygen tube under his nose, Gary reached for Claudia’s hand and pulled her closer. “You know how it is, brother, after a long cold spell? The clouds finally go away and the sun comes out. Everything turns bright and warm.” He managed a weak grin. “That’s how it feels this morning.”
“Yeah, it does.” Clint squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “And I’ll bet the two of you will be just fine by yourselves while Elly and I take care of a couple errands. We’ll be back in a bit.” There was no need to worry Gary with the ominous possibilities awaiting them at the Courthouse.
“We’ll be fine. This new nurse of mine is working wonders.”
On the front steps of the main hospital entrance Clint was still feeling the euphoric relief of finding Gary conscious and alert. Not only that, he and Claudia seemed to have renewed their special bond. “How in the heck did you know that?” he finally asked. “That he wanted her there?”
“It was more than just wanting,” Elly answered. “It was what he needed---what it took to make him whole, to get him past the emptiness he was feeling.
"And Claudia was in that same place. She’s waited so long for someone to need her. When they finally got back together, they both realized that’s how it was supposed to be. It was like they gave each other permission to want that.”
“I can see how it might have been that way for her. But he was unconscious. How could he know what was ‘supposed to be?’”
It was a hard thing, translating her subtle intuition into words simple enough for a rational, system-oriented male to comprehend. “I didn’t know he would wake up so soon,” Elly admitted. “That was a nice surprise.
"But even if it had taken longer, they’d have still been making a connection. When you put the two of them, and the feelings they have for each other, in the same room---they were bound to be communicating on some level. I don’t know how it works, but I’m sure that it does.”
“You really believe that?” Clint took her hand and they started toward the parking lot. “So, why does that work for some folks and not for others?
"I’m thinking about last night, at home. We were in the same room, you and I. It felt like I’d made my feelings pretty clear. Yet, you wouldn’t even answer my question. It didn’t feel like we were communicating.”
She wanted her smile to convince him, but knew it was not enough. “Clint, for that kind of connection to happen those feelings have to be absolute---what people call ‘unconditional.’ I think that describes how Claudia and Gary feel about each other.”
“And you’re saying that’s not how I feel about you?” He pulled his hand from hers, unsure what to make of her blunt rejection. “You think my feelings are ‘conditional’---whatever that means. Is that it?”
“Clint Harris, just stop that right now. There’s no reason to be getting all pouty.” It was so aggravating ---his stubborn inability to follow her logic. “This is not about you. I’ve told you that over and over. I’m the one raining on this parade---me and all the baggage I pack around. It’s about things that have nothing to do with Clint Harris---things that I have to get over.”
“Can you do that? Will you ever be able to do that?”
“I hope so. In fact I think I’ve made a good start. Better than I ever dreamed I could.”
“A start? I guess I was hoping for something more than that.”
“Please don’t give up on me. I just need time, that’s all. There are things I have to deal with." She was flashing a worried grin. “Like what the District Attorney has in mind for us.”
~~~
It was one of those times when Clint Harris would have rather been somewhere else. He and Elly arrived at the Sheriff’s office shortly before ten o’clock. They were ushered down the hall to the District Attorney’s office, where they waited not-so-patiently for Assistant District Attorney Sharon Kline to meet with them in the adjoining conference room.
Would they be there with her together, Clint wondered. Perhaps she would interview them separately, to compare their stories. No matter how the lady chose to handle the process, it seemed that he was at greater risk than Elly. Her actions had been so plainly necessary. How could anyone fault her response?
On the other hand, Jerry Denton had already reminded Clint that his assault on Tom Berry could not be explained away so easily. It might be argued that he had inflicted more damage than the occasion warranted. If so, how could the District Attorney’s office overlook that inconvenient possibility? And in any case, there was always a chance that Tom would file charges himself.
After a short ten minute wait, Clint had his first question answered when a secretary led the two of them into the conference room. They were scarcely seated when Ms. Kline appeared through a side door. She introduced herself in a firm, professional voice, then drew a handful of papers from her briefcase and paused to leaf through them.
Looking up, she activated the recording machine in the center of the table and took a moment to read an introductory statement. With that Elly and Clint were asked to state their full names for the court record, speaking into the recording microphone.
“Now then,” Ms. Kline continued. “I have read the Sheriff’s report and the statements that each of you made last night. To begin with, I must ask if either of you has changed your mind about having legal counsel present for this preliminary hearing.”
“Is there any reason we should?” Clint asked.
“That’s not for me to say. But, if at any time you decide that’s what you want, we will stop our proceedings until you have your representative here. Do you understand?”
Clint and Elly nodded their assent. “Please state your answer for the record. Nodding your head doesn’t work for the recorder.” A moment later, when they had voiced their understanding, she carried on.
“Just so you know,” Ms. Kline began. “I also talked with Mr. Berry earlier this morning to take his statement.”
For the first time Elly spoke up. “How was he? Is he okay?”
For a moment Ms. Kline seemed taken aback by Elly’s obvious interest. “Except for some rather ugly bruises,” she answered. “He seemed to be fine. I’m sure he was on some kind of pain medication, but he appeared quite normal. Beyond the paralysis, the wound was apparently not too serious. When I talked to him they were preparing to transfer him to Portland for further diagnosis.”
By then Clint was not prepared to cede sympathy points to Tom Berry. “Just remember, he was trying to save his own skin. You can’t believe anything the guy says. He knows exactly what happened out there.”
Ms. Kline leaned back in her chair to study the apprehensive couple for a moment. Then, with an unexpected grin, she noted, “Seems to have been a busy night at River Park. Am I right?”
“Only because Tom Berry came unglued.” Clint was on the edge of his chair, ready to have his say. “He caused the whole damn problem. Elly was just trying to keep him from killing me. There was......”
“Mr. Harris.” Ms. Kline’s interruption was firmly insistent. “This is not the time for that. Please calm down and let me explain where this is going.”
Sharon Kline pulled a slim packet of papers from her file and held it up for them to see. “Why don’t we take a minute to review what Mr. Berry said. Shall we? This is the transcript of his sworn statement. In the event of a trial it could be produced in court.” Clint winced a bit at her mention of a trial, then nodded for her to continue.
“To begin with, I’m afraid that Mr. Berry had some rather harsh words for you, Mr. Harris. One look at his face and I understood why.” She must have noticed the faint, but satisfied smile that came to Clint’s lips. “Very early in our conversation he asked if he had the right to press charges against you, for what he called ‘a needless assault’.”
Clint’s smile faded and he asked, “And---what did you tell him?”
“The same thing I would tell anyone. If that is something he wanted to consider he ought to discuss it with his legal counsel.”
Moving on, Ms. Kline turned back to Elly. “My purpose in talking with Mr. Berry this morning was to hear how he described what happened at River Park last night. I asked him what had led up to the shooting.
"As I said before, he started with a few comments about Mr. Harris. Then as he began to address your role, Mrs. Warren, he seemed to struggle a bit until, all of a sudden, he just stopped---and a most remarkable thing happened.”
Leafing through her papers, Ms. Kline was looking for the right page. “Here it is,” she said. “For a moment Mr. Berry was quiet. Then he asked me, ‘Could Elly be in trouble for what she did, for shooting me?’
I explained that it wasn’t up to me to decide that. The District Attorney, or a Grand Jury, might decide there was probable cause to suspect that a crime had been committed. In that case, it was possible that Mrs. Warren could be tried for some degree of assault with a weapon.
“I have to admit,” she continued, nodding to Elly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like what happened next. You had just shot him. I knew that from your own statement, and his. He had been paralyzed---might never walk again. Yet, at that moment he seemed more concerned about you, and what might happen to you, than he was about himself.
"He asked me very pointedly, ‘Could she go to jail?’ I told him that I couldn’t rule out that possibility.”
Elly glanced over at Clint. Her pout, so often a prelude to tears, had returned. She bit her lip and tried to produce a smile.
“We talked a bit more about that, Mr. Berry and I......about people going to jail.” Again Ms. Kline turned back to Clint. “I’m afraid he wasn’t too upset at the thought of you standing trial, Mr. Harris. In fact, I believe he was grinning when he talked about that. But he was very disturbed by the possibility that Mrs. Warren might be charged, and possibly found guilty. It sounded as though he had never considered that before.
“Anyway, after a while Mr. Berry got this very sad look on his face.”
Ms. Kline was talking directly to Elly now. “He was shaking his head. His voice was soft, hard to hear, when he finally told me ‘It wasn’t Elly’s fault. It wasn’t Clint Harris’ fault. It was mine.’ Seconds later the words came pouring out, miles an hour---so fast that it was hard to understand him at first.
“He told me that he had forced you to go with him. That he had threatened you with a gun. That Mr. Harris had attacked him only after he’d hit you, Mrs. Warren. And that he had hit Mr. Harris’ brother with his gun.
“Finally, he stopped and his words were more measured when he explained that he had been so angry, so out of control, that he probably would have shot Mr. Harris if you hadn’t stopped him.”
As she ended her account, Ms. Kline was once again amazed by the completeness of Tom Berry’s confession.“ At the very end he told me again, ‘It wasn’t Elly’s fault. You can’t blame her.’
“He didn’t have to do that, did he?” Elly asked.
“No, he certainly didn’t. I’ve never had that happen before. Listening to him, I was thinking that even though he had a strange way of showing it, he obviously cares a great deal about you.”
“So what does all that mean?” Clint asked.
Gathering her papers, Ms. Kline slipped them back in her briefcase. “Everything Mr. Berry told us corroborates the Sheriff’s report and your personal statements. I was on the phone with the District Attorney a few minutes ago. He agrees there’s no reason to proceed any further. No charges will be filed.” For the first time they saw her wide, toothy smile. “You’re free to go.”
Elly stood and asked her final question. “What about Tom? Is he in trouble for this?”
“I can’t answer that,” Ms. Kline said. “If you choose to, either of you could ask that charges be filed. Beyond that, the District Attorney will have to decide.”
Elly and Clint were shaking their heads in unison. “I can’t imagine why we’d want to do that,” she said. “It seems like he’s paid enough already.”
Minutes later the two of them were standing in the parking lot beside Elly’s car. “Free to go!” Clint repeated for the third time. “Man, I don’t remember ever hearing sweeter words.”
Elly seemed not to be listening. Her mind was somewhere else, trying to grasp the meaning of Tom’s unexpected confession. “It’s so hard to understand.”
“What is hard to understand?”
“Why Tom did that---taking the blame for everything.”
By then Clint too was struggling, trying to comprehend her wondering. “Elly, it was his fault. He caused the whole damn thing. Why give him brownie points for taking responsibility for what he did?”
“But he didn’t have to do that. He could have caused a lot of trouble, with trials and heaven knows what else. Instead he said it was his fault. Why would he do that?”
“I suppose that’s the easy part.” Clint draped his arm over her shoulder. “Like that Kline lady said, in his own twisted way Tom loves you. He didn’t want you to get in trouble, especially for something he did. I can understand how he feels. And I can also see the irony of it.”
“What’s ‘ironic’ about that?”
Clint stepped back. “Just think about it. Suppose there were two guys who had very strong feelings for you---what you might call ‘love feelings.’ Let’s say they’re both over the hill---too damn old and used up to be going to war over a pretty lady.
“But they’ve hated each other for a very long time and they’re willing to fight to see who wins her. Hell, they may be ready to kill each other for the chance to be with her. That kind of thing can happen, you know. Those feelings can be strong enough to cause guys, even guys our age, to do desperate things.
“But suppose that after all their fighting, after all that craziness, the lady they’re fighting over isn’t sure that she could ever have those ‘love feelings’ for anyone---no matter how much they fight or how badly they want her. It just might be that no one can win her, because she won’t let herself have those feelings. That’s what I call ironic.”
Elly reached up and circled her arms around his neck. “Clint Harris, can’t you tell? Right now I need you more than ever. You know what I deal with---how I struggle. I wish it was easier. I wish I could say ‘yes’ right now. But I can’t. I need time. And I need you to be my rock, my safe harbor in all this confusion. Please don’t give up on me.”
“There’s no chance of that. I’m not the kind to give up. You can write that in stone. I’m not a quitter.”
THE END (Not exactly-please continue)
Dear Reader,
In the beginning I was sure the Harris boys would be able to sort out their Second Chances in one volume. But given the way they stumbled around, that didn’t happen. Turns out, there is more story to be told.
I hope you will join me for Long Way Home, the second half of the Harris brothers' story, to see if they can finally make it work.
