Oddly, it was Missy Reneker, not Isabel, who materialized in my memory. I could feel her hands push me off the lunch bench and the sticky linoleum beneath me as I landed.
Then came Isabel . . . I felt her strength, and even greater determination, as she held her breath to haul me up. I recalled the notebooks full of lists she carried around as she helped my dad plan every birthday party and even the rehearsal dinners for my brothers’ weddings. I thought of her dad and the question she asked every Friday night, until we both knew it so well it no longer needed articulation: If he’s coming home, he’ll be here by six o’clock. If not, can I spend the night?
“I’m not speaking for Isabel. I have no idea what she feels, but I can tell you who she is.”
“Okay.” He drew the word out in invitation to continue.
“She is the bright, fun, and whimsical woman you see now—that’s her without armor. In many ways, you have met the truest Isabel there is. Isabel with armor up can hide all that really well. But if she loves you, maybe it’ll come down. She is loyal, fierce, and she can endure. She’s tough. If you live for her, she can endure the separation of a deployment.” I looked around at the stream, the hill, the path leading back to the house. “Considering where we are, you’ll understand that allusion.”
He raised a brow.
I smirked. “It’s an idea from Persuasion. Anne Elliot says it, but don’t think Isabel is your Anne Elliot. That’d be a mistake. She is not that compliant.”
Grant laughed with a mixture of embarrassment and relief. “Even now, that’s not an adjective I’d use to describe her.” He then saw me, really saw me, and his face fell. “Forgive me. You’re shivering. We must get you back.”
He started down the path with such long strides I had to run to keep pace. We’d covered about a hundred yards before he stopped.
I heard it too—the clopping of horse hooves.
“I have a better idea. That’s where my coat went. I took it off when setting up the gig.”
The Muellers came into view. Goliath pulled them in a small carriage that had only two wheels, set side by side.
Grant smirked at me now. “By the way, that’s Admiral and Mrs. Croft approaching. Helene explained it to me this morning—she said you suggested a change of characters.”
Herman pulled on Goliath’s reins and stopped beside us. “What happened here?”
“Miss Morland,” Grant said with wry formality, “decided to take a dip. Could you take her back to the house? She’s shivering.”
“Of course, and we come prepared. We have a blanket.” Helene squished up against her husband. “Do let us have the pleasure of taking you home. There is excellent room for three.”
Grant took the blanket she offered and led me to the back of the gig, where he lifted me onto the bench. “There wasn’t room for three up there,” he whispered. In a louder voice he called, “She’s set back here. Walk on, Goliath.”
We bounced away.
“Isn’t this delightful?” Helene called. “Not that you are cold and wet, but that this is happening just as it is? I took your suggestion.”
Before I could answer, Herman called, “Are you comfortable back there?”
“Very.” I pulled the blanket around me and almost believed it to be true. I watched the sun shoot through the branches. I’d been so enamored with the green that I hadn’t noticed—fall had taken many of the leaves. Time was marching on, and I wondered if the heat had broken at home.
“We took your advice,” Helene said again. “Have you taken mine?” She twisted in her seat.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“You chose poorly in Catherine Morland. She’s a good sort of girl, and I know why you did it. Everything about her ached to be a heroine; she threw herself at it. Goodness, that girl was so lost in Gothic romances I had no humor for her for years.” Helene was gripping the back of the seat to keep facing me. “But that’s not you. It’s not because you weren’t born to it that you’re not a heroine. It’s that you’ve shunned it. Too much risk, too much fear.”
“Are we talking about a new character?”
“We’re talking about you, Mary. Your journey is nothing like Catherine’s.” She clutched her husband’s arm. “Maybe I should go back to Mrs. Jennings. People at least believed her when she said stuff, even if she was wrong.”
Herman made no reply.
She turned back to me. “I hope I haven’t upset you, dear.”
“Not at all.” I was too confused to be upset. I turned to face the path behind us again. The stream was disappearing from view. Something was slipping away and I couldn’t grasp it. I stretched up to see over the back of the seat. “So if not Catherine Morland, then who?”
“Anne Elliot from Persuasion, of course. She didn’t think happiness could come her way either, but it did. She just had to stretch a little—and when she recognized it, hold it tight.”
“Oh . . .” I faced backwards again.
After a few more hills, the Muellers were engrossed in their own conversation. I suspected they had forgotten me.
“So is it what you expected?” Herman said to his wife.
“It cost us so much . . . Somehow I feel I’ve been wasteful.”
“Do not say that. What were we saving for? I’m not sure I’ll be able to drive a gig on our seventieth anniversary.”
“But we could have done something you—”
“Hush. I have enjoyed every moment with you. That is all I wanted. I . . . I can’t remember all the names though. They get so jumbled in my head.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Helene sighed. “None of that matters. You are still you and I love you. This is a game and I didn’t expect it to show me how wonderful our normal life is. I’m beginning to miss it . . . When we leave here, let’s ask the children to bring their families for Christmas.”
“Are you afraid I will forget soon?” Herman offered a humorless chuckle.
“I’m afraid I already did. What we have . . . It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
The gig stopped. I looked around and found myself at the stables rather than the house.
“Hello? What are you doing back there? You’re soaked.” Duncan reached for me.
Helene’s hand flew to her mouth. “We forgot! Herman, we forgot poor Mary.”
“Please don’t worry. I was fine.” A coat, holding a hint of citrus, dropped over my shoulders. I twisted to find Nathan close behind me. “Thank you.”
“Your lips are blue,” Isabel cried.
“I am a little cold.”
“Come on. Let’s get you to the house.” Nathan drew me close and hurried me away from the group.
Before I knew it, we crunched across the gravel and the kitchen door swung open. Gertrude gestured us inside. “Grant called and said you got soaked. You need a hot bath.”
“Th . . . That . . . sounds . . . lovely.”
I slid Nathan’s coat off, but he pulled it back over me. “Bring it to me after you’re warm.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll wait for you.”
Chapter 22