Page 99 of The Singing Trees
The only thing that would trip her up was when she saw Thomas in her daughter’s face. Had there been a better way? No matter how angry she’d been, was hiding Celia from him the right answer? There was the possibility that Emma might have told him about the baby. If so, was he curious at all? Or did he fear that the baby might be his? If so, was he relieved that she hadn’t told him?
She hadn’t seen Thomas in a year and a half. Was he back in school in Davenport? Or had he moved to Portland? Surely she would have seen him if so. Or maybe he wasn’t in school at all. Maybe the woman he’d brought home had pushed new plans upon him. Were they married yet? Had he married her in the same spot behind the club where his mother had suggested he marry Annalisa? How did the Barneses feel about him bringing home a Vietnamese woman? Was Linh pregnant? Had Emma told Thomas about the baby she’d seen with Annalisa?
Though she was in a much-stronger place and these questions didn’t bog her down, Annalisa had to wonder: Did he ever think of her? Howhad he not come to find her and explain himself? She might have been able to move on more easily if he’d just said that the war had messed him up and offered some sort of an apology.
Despite her better days and the strength she’d found, she did still miss him. As she came back to life and found confidence again, men had started asking her out, but she always declined. She was more certain than ever that love existed, but she was equally sure that she had enough in her life.
She hated that she still loved him, but that was the way it was, and she’d come to accept that her feelings for him would never go away. She’d have to learn how to live with those feelings just as so many women who had lost their men in the war were doing, still loving him despite the impossibility of their reunion.
Chapter 36
TURNINGBACKTIME
In February of 1973, Walt told Annalisa that it was time for him to retire and that he had found a nursing home. The old Annalisa might have thought of herself first, of how she had just lost her place to live and work. But she didn’t.
She was rearranging several paintings, making room for a few more she’d done during a recent prolific burst, most likely brought on by her excitement about Nixon signing the Paris Peace Accords the month prior, when Walt stunned her with this admission.
“What are you talking about?” She set down the canvas in her hands and leaned it against the wall.
“It’s too much.” He sat on the leather couch that faced the west wall. She’d painted it white, which she thought was a wonderful contradiction to Walt’s blacks and browns on the other side. He coughed hard into his handkerchief. “It’s time I hang up my career and take my next steps. I’ve found a good place that’ll be just fine.”
Each cough broke her heart. As much as she did see the youth in his eyes, his body had gone downhill, and not only his lungs. He’d slowed down and couldn’t stand for very long without starting to wobble. His hands shook constantly.
“That’s such a big change. Are you sure? This shop has been your life.”
“And life moves on.” The ticking clocks seemed to verify that fact.
The implications of his statement made her frown, but knowing she would never convince him otherwise, she said, “You know I need to approve. You deserve the best place in the area.”
“It’ll do. A little place in Scarborough.”
Annalisa waved a finger. “No, no, no. Give me time to do some research.”
A sigh. “If you insist.”
“It goes without saying.” She sat next to him. “Have you told Nonna?”
Walt nodded solemnly, taking a labored breath. How heartbreaking it must be for her grandmother, Annalisa thought.
Putting an arm over his shoulders, she said, “Maybe we’ll move her into the room next door. Or get you two a private villa with a Jacuzzi. Even a view of the water.”
He glanced over before setting his eyes on one of the paintings. “As much as I’d like that, your grandmother will outlive me by forty years.”
“Even the grim reaper is afraid of her.”
He chuckled. “Even him, yes.”
“This must be very hard, Walt.” She pulled him in and leaned her head against his forehead, wishing their time together in the shop didn’t have to end. What would she do without seeing him bent over his desk, peering through his spectacles at a watch, tossing out grumpy comments?
He wrapped his arm around her, patting her back. “I’m working my way through it.” She could smell his age in his breath. After a pause, he said, “I’m not going to sell the building, Anna. Don’t worry. You’ll have a place to live, and I’ve thought about the shop. If you’d like to continue, I’d love that. There are plenty of watches and clocks to sell, which could keep you busy for a while until you convert the whole place into your gallery.”
They let go of each other, and she stood to face him. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she said, caught up on the idea of not seeing him every day.
“I’m not worried about you. No one needs to worry about you, but I do want to help. That’s why I’m going to leave you and Nonna the building when I pass.”
Her mouth fell open. “What?”
“You heard me.”
