The Singing Trees by Boo Walker
Chapter 40
RUN, RABBIT, RUN
Annalisa unloaded her new pieces at the gallery and arrived home just in time to catch Glen returning Celia from their day downtown. She’d been gone only two nights, but it always felt like an eternity, her time without her daughter. She heard a car door shut and dashed outside. Setting eyes on Celia was still like seeing a shooting star, and her mouth stretched into a smile.
“Hi, bambina!”
With a windup musical clown in her hand, Celia stumbled toward her, almost falling but then opening her arms. Her daughter wasn’t afraid of anything and had busted her knees up almost daily during her ambulatory pursuits.
As she lifted Celia up into her arms, she saw an intruder on the property that stopped her heart. There through the tall trees, at the start of the driveway, was a VW Beetle. Not just any VW Beetle. Thomas’s banana-yellow Beetle. The one he’d lent her, the one that had led her to freedom in Portland, the car that had swept her away on her first adventure, which would define the rest of her life.
The Beetle that she’d left in a driveway in Davenport with a note and a ring.
In the driver’s seat sat Thomas. He’d stopped the car fifty feet away.
She shook her head to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. How many times had her loony mind made up this scene? She wasn’t completely caught off guard, as she’d seen him earlier at the market and he’d invaded her mind every minute since, but still . . . was this truly happening?
That drive back home had been one long journey through the past, thinking of every day of their relationship, starting with that night at Fairhaven and then running into him at the game, then him winning over her family, the draft, the time she’d seen him before he left for Asia, and then that last time in Hawaii.
Never could she have imagined more love and pain all in one life—even as young as she was. Not that she was special, but what they had was certainly one of a kind. In the end, just like every other time she’d found herself flipping through the pages of their story, she wondered how it had all gone wrong. How something so beautiful could have been destroyed. Men cheated and relationships ended, but she’d thought their connection was different. She couldn’t believe that the rest of the world, the rest of the couples out there, had loved each other the way she and Thomas had.
“You okay?” Glen asked, approaching her. “Who is that?”
Annalisa was scared to death. Were she and Thomas really going to do this after all these years? Have a real conversation? Why had he driven up here? How had he found her?
She looked at Glen, who’d once tried and failed to replace Thomas. “I need you to take Celia down to the beach.”
He obviously heard the urgency in her voice and looked at her with concern. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Thomas.” That was all she had to say. Once they’d settled into friends, she’d told him about the roller coaster that was her time with him.
Glen looked at the VW. “Oh.”
He reached for Celia, who clung to Mommy’s neck. “Hey, C, let’s head down to the water, see if we can find any crabs.”
The Beetle started their way as Annalisa handed her over. Without another word, Glen rushed her toward the beach.
Thomas’s face came into view through the windshield, and her heart thumped like a gong struck in a tribal dance.
When he stepped out of the car, she said, “If you say you were in the neighborhood, I’ll throw something at you.”
He smiled, and she thought he seemed very happy, sincerely satisfied and in a good emotional place, which only served to make this day so much more difficult to experience.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” he said. “I was asking around town and heard wind chimes. Turns out you own a gallery downtown, and a set of wind chimes hangs in the entryway. I charmed the girl in there into telling me where you lived.”
“Oh, you charmed her, did you?” Annalisa said, falling into easy conversation, just like the old days despite the secrets she kept. She almost told him that she had made those wind chimes with their daughter but didn’t think that was the best way to break the news, or if she wanted to tell him at all.
“Actually, I told her I was your cousin.” Tapping into his inner Marlon Brando, he spun his hand in the air and said in his best Sicilian, “My name is Vito Mancuso. I’ve lost my cousin Annalisa’s address. Can you please help me? We haven’t seen each other in years, and I’m late to meet her.”
With more of his charming smile coming at her, Annalisa dipped her chin. “Vito, huh? I guess I need to beef up my security.”
After sharing a brief grin with her, Thomas glanced at Glen and Celia, who were headed toward the steps to the water and seemed to surrender to a rush of nerves. “Anyway, I’m sorry to show up like this. I . . .” Suddenly, he was as speechless as she.
Annalisa didn’t know why he was here or what the hell she was going to tell him. The years once again filled the air, and her love for him swelled.
Thomas looked around, fidgeting with his hands as if he didn’t know what to do with them. “I can’t go another minute without talking to you,” he finally said, jabbing his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “Shit, Anna, I miss you. I don’t know what happened. Mitch said something about another girl? You thought I met someone?”
Annalisa stared into eyes that were sometimes blue but today were green, still not knowing where to start. This supposed misunderstanding? Their child? The feelings they both so clearly still had? She could barely breathe as the idea that she might have messed up cast doubt on everything she’d done since finding that photo.
“Why don’t you come in?” she said with a trembly voice as she started to the front steps, gesturing for him to follow.
He looked relieved, like he was worried she might tell him to go. If he only knew . . .
As they reached the entrance, he asked, “Are you sure? I don’t want to—”
“Come in, Thomas,” she said, holding the door open for him. “We’ve got some catching up to do.”
The pope, John F. Kennedy, and Frank Sinatra greeted them from their positions above the holy water font on the wall in the foyer. He looked into the dining room and up the fancy staircase, and Annalisa knew he had to be wondering what had led her here.
Graystone definitely looked like the Italians had moved in. Shrines of the Virgin Mary graced almost every room. There were washed and starched doilies and crucifixes absolutely everywhere. They’d kept the furniture, but the walls were now covered in art that Annalisa had collected or painted.
“Smells good in there,” he said, poking his head into the kitchen, clearly delaying the intent of his visit. He referred to the smells of the sugo di pomodoro simmering in two giant pots on the stove. Bulbs of garlic, bunches of basil, and baskets of homegrown tomatoes rested on the counter next to the pots.
“It’s sauce day in the Mancuso house,” she said, leading him that way. “Nonna is still at it.”
Brazenly making himself at home, Thomas buried his nose into one of the pots and took a good sniff. “God, I miss your family’s food. I used to lie there at night in the jungle and dream of eating dinner at Nonna’s house.”
That was his fault.
Or was it? Had she vastly overreacted? Something wasn’t adding up, and the foundation of her secrets seemed to be crumbling. “You didn’t have pasta night over there?”
He pulled himself away from the smell. “The navy might have, but no, not in the army. We pride ourselves in removing all enjoyment from eating. Never will I touch ham or lima beans again. So you’re still painting all the time? I loved what I saw at the gallery.”
She didn’t want to talk about painting right now, but she answered him anyway, putting off the inevitable for a few more minutes. “Yeah, I’m still having fun, staying busy.”
As what happened between them filled the room, she said, “So what are you doing now? Did you finish school?” How often had she wanted answers to these questions?
“Working on it.” He stayed safely on the other side of the counter. “I’m back at Weston and in hot pursuit of a career in academia. Emma’s a year behind me, studying psychology, of all things. We’re living together in a house near campus.”
“I’m happy to hear you and Emma are together,” she said, wondering if his sister had told him about the baby. “And that she’s in school. Good for her.”
He locked eyes with her. “Yeah, she’s definitely coming around.”
She and Thomas could have had such a rich life together, she thought, reminded of how much he’d fought for her and how well he’d treated her. Until he’d kissed another girl.
Finally looking away, she waved him toward the living room. “I think Nonna’s in here. Come say hi.”
“Yeah,” he said, finally leaving his spot by the stove. “I’d love that.”
Nonna sat at the sewing machine repairing a torn pillow and humming along with a Mario Lanza record spinning nearby. If she wasn’t in the kitchen or in her recliner, this was where she’d be. Her little sewing table was pushed up under one of the windows overlooking the sea, and she could sit there for hours without getting bored.
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Annalisa said, thinking that maybe she should have warned Nonna before leading him in.
“Hi, Nonna,” Thomas said, stepping into the room to face her. “It’s been a long time.”
Nonna switched off the machine and turned. Her eyes bulged like balloons as she crossed herself. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Yes, it has.”
Then her wide eyes met Annalisa’s with question marks in her pupils. She probably thought the same thing, that Thomas was about to find out the truth. No way could she let him leave without telling him about Celia. Her guilt over hiding his daughter tore at her like a shark on flesh. He would have said something by now if Emma had clued him in.
Thomas and Nonna embraced and caught up for about five seconds before Annalisa interrupted. “Would you mind giving us a chance to chat? Glen took Celia down to the water. Maybe you could see what they’re up to?”
Her grandmother was clearly still in shock, but she jumped at the opportunity to get out of there.
She used her cane to stand, and Annalisa and Thomas watched her walk out the back door to the patio into the cloudy August afternoon.
Annalisa’s mind was a wild storm, lifting up her thoughts and slinging them around like a hurricane snatches up and tosses cars. Why was he here?
“She hasn’t changed a bit,” he finally said, approaching one of the windows to enjoy the view. He turned back. “Is she okay to get down there by herself?”
Annalisa’s eyebrows shot up. “You think a few steps can slow her down? Good thing she didn’t hear you say that.” Annalisa dragged a finger across her throat.
He cracked up, which acted like a rope and bucket pulling up all their memories from down the well. “I can’t believe you have a daughter. Gosh, I feel awful barging in.”
We made her together,Annalisa thought and then decided they’d both better find a seat before the revelations came. Yes, he had cheated on her, but she had hidden his daughter from him. Her sin was more unforgivable. Today was her day of reckoning.
She opened the back door, feeling sick about what was to come. “Let’s go out here.”
The sun sprayed welcome warm rays as they walked out onto the deck, where a line of wooden chairs faced over the water. A breeze rose up from the ocean, making the two sets of wind chimes sing. The only other sound was the waves slapping the rocky shore below.
Approaching the railing, they took in the view, blue and more blue, for what seemed like forever. “This is heaven,” he said. “What a perfect day too.”
“We suffer all winter for days like these, don’t we?” she said, looking left down to the beach, where Nonna was joining Glen and Celia after negotiating the steps with her cane. Annalisa gathered her hair into a ponytail to get it out of her eyes. “How is your family?”
He glanced over, his shaggy hair dancing in the wind. “My dad died. I don’t know if you heard that.”
“No. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t a fan of Bill Barnes, but she was saddened for Thomas’s sake.
“Pancreatic cancer,” he said. “It got him quickly. He died while I was finishing off my commitment at Fort Dix early last year.”
“That was the same month Celia was born. And your mom?” She wondered if he was doing the math, figuring out that she’d been in Hawaii nine months before then.
“My mom’s pretty good; she’s dating someone. He’s not half-bad, though the bar was not high. So how long have you lived here? You’ve done well for yourself.”
“We moved here in May.” How long could they talk of trivial things? She supposed she could go on forever, because her truth would have to follow.
“Nonna too?” He seemed mesmerized by the view, his head twisting left and right.
“Yeah, can you believe it? We got her out of the Mills, finally.” She drew in the familiar smell of kelp and salt as she gripped the wood of the railing. Every second made her feel more and more guilty about hiding Celia from him for all these years, especially in the confusion Mitch had brought to light.
“What’s your husband’s story?” he asked. “I can’t imagine he’s happy with me being here.”
“I’m not married,” she said so quickly her words could have been a guillotine. “He’s not my husband. I was never married.”
Thomas looked like the Bruins had just won the cup again. “Get out of here.”
She shook her head and couldn’t help but let a smile take her over. Stop it, she wanted to tell her face, but she had no control.
“Are you single?”
Annalisa nodded with a sigh, a yes with a caveat. He was getting ahead of himself.
Interpreting her silence correctly, he said, “Look, I think there’s been some miscommunication.”
There it was, the point of no return. “Why don’t we sit down?” she asked, backing up into one of the chairs, knowing she might collapse otherwise.
He sat in the seat next to hers and twisted her way. “I didn’t meet anyone in Vietnam. Is that why you left me?”
What? Was he lying? She’d spent so many years distrusting him that she wasn’t sure what to think. With more pain than she intended to reveal, she said, “I saw her, Thomas, the two of you. I saw the picture. Don’t lie to me.”
His brow furrowed like that of the wrongly accused. “What picture? I’m not lying. I don’t understand.”
“Your mom sent me the picture of you and Linh.”
“Linh?” He looked honestly perplexed. “Who is Linh? What are you talking about?”
“The girl you were kissing in the picture,” Annalisa said, anger stirring in her words. “I understand you were at war and that things were ugly, but don’t lie to me. Not now. We’re long over.”
Thomas shifted his chair to face her and leaned forward. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I swear to God. There was no girl in Vietnam. There must be some mistake.” He was taking this accusation with great seriousness, chipping away at her wall of distrust but rebuilding another with bricks of her frustration.
“Your mom wrote that you were bringing the girl home. I really don’t see any point in not telling the truth.”
The strings of his neck tightened with anger. “My mom sent you a picture? Do you have it?” She could see he was racing in his mind for an explanation. “There was never a girl.”
Oh God, what had she done? Something wasn’t right; he wasn’t coming off as guilty. “No, I don’t have it. I threw it away.”
He looked up toward the sky, where five seagulls soared by. “Hold on . . .” It was a sincere search for an explanation.
Long after the birds were gone, he seemed to figure it out. Taking fistfuls of his shaggy hair, his elbows splayed out like wings, he said, “You’re talking about Thien.”
“Ah, his memory comes back,” she replied with dark sarcasm. For a second, she’d thought he might have actually been innocent, as if someone had doctored the photo, and she’d actually let herself taste what it was like to love him again. But only for a moment, and now she was close to asking him to leave. Then again, she couldn’t wait to hear his excuse—or his lie. He was more like his father than she had ever thought. Might as well satisfy her curiosity before they said goodbye forever.
He inched to the edge of his seat. “That kiss—”
“That’s the one.” She’d been so worried that she’d done something wrong, but at that moment she felt more than justified in keeping his daughter from him. He’d wronged Annalisa, and unforgivably so.
With his eyes boring into her, he said, “It’s not what you think. I swear to God.”
Her jaws tightened as she looked for any evidence of further lies on his face. She noticed the faint scratch under his eye that he’d had in Hawaii, and she remembered how much he’d loved her then. What did he mean, it wasn’t what she thought? A kiss was a kiss. Wasn’t it?
He clasped his hands together and met her eyes. “There was a journalist named Jimmy that followed our platoon for a while, and he had a crush on this girl named Thien, who worked at a restaurant at Long Binh Post, the base where I was stationed for a while. He’d talked her into sitting down with us, and he was taking pictures of her. She was next to me. To make him jealous, she turned and kissed me. It wasn’t even a thing, I swear to God.”
She couldn’t let him off the hook so easily. These were the same lies her father had told, and her mother had gobbled them up. “What a convenient story, Thomas.” She was amazed at how angry she still could get after this long. “So you sent your family the picture and told them, ‘Hey, guys, this is some random girl and me kissing? Hold on to it for me.’”
He shook his head so hard it might fall off. “No, Jimmy offered to send a bunch of us his shots, from, you know, three weeks of running with us. I gave him our address back in Davenport.”
Though she wasn’t sure what she believed, he seemed to have an answer for everything. Had he been prepping this lie for years? Or on the drive up? Or had she made some sort of mistake? He’d earned her trust and love like no one else on earth. He’d never lied to her. As questions pounded down on her, she started to come around to the possibility that he was being completely honest and that she was the one who’d messed up.
He kept moving toward her, like he might fall off the chair. “Look, Anna, this is all wrong. Is this why you left me? This picture?”
She repeated herself with frustration. “Your mom said you were bringing her home, that you’d fallen in love.” It was already clear, though, that he hadn’t done that; she was just rambling, drowning in quicksand.
He shook his head, as confused as she was. “I don’t believe my mom would have done that. I’ve never mentioned Thien to my mother, or anyone. She wasn’t anything, a girl who used to bring us Cokes. I barely remember that day. Or her.”
Annalisa threw her hands up and then dropped them on her lap. “I saw the picture. I read the letter, signed by your mom. She said Linh, not Thien. I’d rather you leave now than continue lying to me.” But he wasn’t lying, was he? He’d never given her any reason to think he was lying about anything.
Leaving the chair, he moved to his knees and took her hand. “On all that I am, I swear to you, Anna. That kiss was nothing I wanted. She caught me completely off guard, and there was nothing between us. Jimmy was the one that was into her.” He paused and stared up to her with pleading eyes. “I proposed to you. You were my everything.”
His words came out dense with truth. All these years. He was out of her life for all these years, and for what reason? Nothing made sense, but she was starting to think that this was all her fault, them not being together. Celia not having her father.
Trying to hold it together, she asked, “So your mom lied to me?”
“I don’t know what’s going on.”
Annalisa looked down to the beach.
At their daughter.
What was happening?
She couldn’t have felt any worse inside. It was her own weakness and distrust in people that had done this, and here he was, the man she loved, holding her hand and looking at her innocently. Was it possible they could have been together all along, she waiting for him when he landed like one of the women holding the WELCOME HOME banner in her painting? It didn’t matter now, either way. She’d destroyed any chance they had for redemption when she’d chosen to hide Celia from him. He would never forgive her for that.
Thomas finally let go of her hand, and she feared he might never touch her again. “I’ve been a wreck for years. Are you kidding me? I never would have cheated on you. You’re the reason I made it home from ’Nam. My heart was broken when my parents told me you’d moved on.” His eyes watered as he looked at her with more love than she could handle. “I’m still broken.”
The first tears escaped her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. He was still on his knees, and she wanted to grab him and pull him up, to let him know that he’d done nothing wrong, but she felt unworthy of him now. She was a dead woman walking, a prisoner about to pay dearly for the crimes she’d committed, and she had no right to act otherwise. She’d hidden a child from this poor man, this guy who’d done nothing but love her from the moment they’d met.
As though an idea had come to him, he pressed up to a stand. “I’d like to call my mom, Anna, and get to the bottom of this. Why don’t you come inside with me? We can call her together? I need you to know I’m not lying.”
She didn’t want to lose him now, and every second raced toward the end. She’d been wrong to think he’d cheated, and if she hadn’t kept Celia from him—if she had only given him the trust that he’d earned, then they would have a chance to reclaim lost time. Helping Walt turn back time might have been possible, but she couldn’t turn it back for herself.
On the verge of collapse, she struggled to say, “Go call her. I just need a few minutes to sit with all this, okay?” She told him the location of the phone. Anything to get him away for a second so that she could figure out how to respond, how to tell him the truth.
He nodded with an optimism that she would soon crush. “Let’s figure out what’s going on. Maybe this can all be worked out. Just let me get to the truth.” With that, he started back inside.
The truth,she thought. The truth will destroy us all over again.
She almost stopped him, saying that he didn’t need to call her, that she believed him, that the truth stood next to her like an executioner with a raised ax.
But he’d already gone.