Page 81 of About Time

From under the table, I retrieve my guitar case. Playing has always been a private thing for me. I practice all the time, but it has always been my escape from what was going on at home. It’s what kept me going all the long nights I’ve spent alone since Hattie’s been gone. Now it’s the way I prove to her that she can have all of me out in the open.

I turn a chair around and take a seat. The first chords of “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls fill the tent.

I pause strumming the strings for a moment and address the crowd that’s gathering around me. “Harriet Parker, a while back, you asked me to prove to you that I wanted to be with you. I’m so sorry that you ever questioned how much I love you. I know that it’s my fault. I let my demons convince me that you were better off without me. Really, I was afraid of how much you made me feel. Not because I didn’t love every second of it but because I was afraid of losing it. Ironic, since my response was to push you away.”

My fingers slide up the neck, and I strum the strings again for a few more chords. “I know I’m older than you, but you’ve alwaysbeen more wise than me. It took me far too long to catch up to you. I’m still not there, but I’m smart enough to know that my life will be infinitely better with you by my side than alone. For some reason, you still seem to want me in your life, and I’m done trying to convince you otherwise.”

“What are you doing?” she asks. I can see tears filling her green eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“I’m proving it, Doll. I’m not a man with all the words to make you see how I feel, but I found someone else’s. This tells you how I feel better than I will ever be able to put into words.”

I try to tune out all of the people and focus only on Hattie. She’s the only one who’s ever mattered anyway. I start playing again and singing the words.

My mother once told me that I had a beautiful voice when I sang. I think that’s part of the reason I’ve never sung for anyone since. This is just another thing I’m taking back from the destruction of my youth.

When I play the last notes, I carefully set my guitar back in the case and pull out the other thing I’ve put in there. Hattie is still standing there, silently crying. I know her well enough to know that these aren’t tears of sadness. Now, she knows every part of me, and most importantly, she knows that she is everything to me.

Standing in front of her, I slowly lower to one knee. Her hand shakes as she lifts it to cover her mouth. One of the mistakes I made the first time was that I never gave her a ring. Years ago, after Elisa and Martin passed, I got her a ring. I’m not even sure why I did it. I knew she was going to leave, and I also knew I wasn’t going to stop her. I guess buying it was my way of holding on to the hope that someday I would be able to get out of my own way.

Today is that day. These are words I have practiced. I won’t ask her to marry me because we’re already married. Even ourfailure to get divorced is a sign that we are meant to be together. Instead, I hold up the ring, an emerald set inside a platinum band. I wanted something to match her eyes and to be as special as she is.

“Hattie, I have loved you for what feels like a lifetime, and I know I will love you for the rest of this one. Be my wife.”

Everyone who is listening will hear me propose, but Hattie and I know I’m asking her to come back to me and be my wife again.

She drops her left hand from her mouth and holds it out to me. I slip the ring on and pull her into my arms. For the first time in all the years since we first got together, I kiss her in front of others.

“Come home with me,” I whisper in her ear.

Hattie takes my hand. “Forever.”

That is the moment where our story would end if this were a novel, but that’s too bad because it would skip the best part. It would miss all of the mornings I get to wake up with her in my arms. One day, hopefully not too far away, those lazy mornings will be interrupted by kids climbing into bed with us. In short, the best part is the life I get to build with her. I can’t wait for every moment.

Epilogue

Charlie Present- Age 53

The party ends shortlyafter I finish telling our story. It’s late, and there’s an army of short people sleeping inside our homes that will be full of energy in the morning. Harlow goes inside with Hattie while Scott stays behind with me to make sure the fire is put out.

I can tell the kid needs to talk, and over the last year we’ve built a strong bond. I can’t explain it because I was nothing like him when I was his age. I’d say of all the guys, he is most like Donovan, loyal, caring, protective, and kind. I regret that I managed to damage Hattie’s friendship with Donovan, but tonight I saw the beginning of their path back to each other. I know he’ll forgive her for leaving him behind because that’s who he is. Now that he knows the truth, all of it, he will be able to move forward.

Come to think of it, Scott reminds me a lot of Hattie as well. She had the same optimistic approach to life before I broke her heart. Being around Scott makes me feel like my life is exactly where it should be. This morning I started out looking back over my life and trying to weigh the choices I’ve made.

I couldn’t be happier about where I am now. I may not be a rich man in material things, but I am wealthy in love. I’ve got the love of my soul mate, my chosen brothers and sisters, and all the little ones we’re blessed to watch grow.

If I’d made different choices, who knows what would have changed, and I wouldn’t change a thing about my life today. This morning as I stood on the deck drinking my coffee I couldn’t help reflecting on all of my mistakes. Telling our story, and getting our truth out for the first time, freed me to see the entire picture in a way I wasn’t seeing it.

The thing I didn’t grasp is that we aren’t the sum of our mistakes. No human is perfect. It’s how we respond to our missteps and grow that define us. Hearing Hattie’s side of our shared past helped me to finally forgive myself and let go of the hurt I’ve been carrying around.

Scott idly pokes at the coals with a stick, and I focus my attention back on him now that my existential crisis is over.

“Okay, kid, out with it,” I demand.

He grumbles something about not calling him kid, but at this point, it’s an obligatory complaint, not really something he truly cares about. He exhales and faces me. “You all know that I don’t love the idea of raising our baby in Seattle. It’s too loud, too crowded, and?—”

“Your family isn’t there,” I finish for him.

He nods. “It is close to my parents, and my sister, or at least it would be if the three of them were ever in Ellensburg for any length of time. My sister is off at college and my parents have been traveling the world for my father’s photography projects. I can see them from here just as easily as I can in Seattle.”

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