Chapter 140. The Way Home
Nathan sat for a minute, then he went after her. He hadn't meant to upset her. He just wanted to discover that part of her, to know her brokenness, too.
But he'd never seen anyone freeze up like that, certainly not his Julia. She was always so strong. And she had always opened to him, and inspired him to do the same. This was not like her.
He walked through the house, looking for her. He searched one room after another, but she was no where to be found. The old apron she'd used for painting, lay crumpled on the floor in the entryway, so he walked out onto the front porch. But he didn't see her out there either, or on the paths leading away from the house. Where could she have gone?
Nathan returned to the back yard, and packed up her paint box. He was very careful in moving her canvas too, and set it on the table in the kitchen to dry. Then he took a look around again, still no sign of her. Was he really that hard to talk to? Nathan had always thought himself a safe place for her, just as she had been for him. Where had he gone wrong?
Finally, he decided the best course of action, was to give her the space she so obviously needed. Julia was like Nathan in some ways, and maybe, like him, she just needed space. And he hoped that, just as Nathan had always done, when she was ready, she would come back to him. That was the prayer that he silently prayed.
While he waited, Nathan went upstairs and ran a bath. After he was clean and dressed, he went down to the kitchen and heated up the stew he'd stowed in the ice box. He set the table for two, just in case. Then once more, he went out to the porch, and looked around. Julia was still nowhere in sight, so he ate at the table in the kitchen, in silence. His view alternated between the scenery out the window, and her painting, propped up just next to him.
When he was done, he washed his lone bowl, spoon, and glass. And he returned upstairs. The daylight was now beginning to fade, which made a heavy ball of worry start to form in the pit of his stomach. Where was his wife?
Nathan fought every urge to panic, and instead, made the decision to keep his plan for tonight, in the hopes that she would come and join him. He grabbed his telescope, an oil lamp, several blankets and pillows, and headed out the door. He walked to the top of the hill right out front, and lit the oil lamp. As the last daylight faded, he set up the blankets and pillows, even returning to the house to fetch a few more. And when it was nice and cozy, and to his liking, he opened his telescope, laid back, and gazed at the stars.
Julia wondered the property the rest of the afternoon, and into the evening. She kept asking herself the same questions: why had she frozen so? And why with Nathan? He was her other half now. Why was it so hard to open up, about this particular subject? How could she not share anything and everything with him? Had he not done all that, with her?
And better yet, why was this one subject so hard? Deep down, she knew why. Because there was a truth there, that was so entangled with guilt, that she couldn't bear to look at it. She didn't think she would ever be able to open that dark, broken place.
She had done alright till now, hadn't she? She'd opened just about every other part of herself. She had let him see everything, anything else he'd inquired about. And that wasn't too bad. Why did she need to lay bare this one thing, too?
She felt the twist in her gut, the fear there, lying like a weighted, heavy lump, unwilling to leave her in peace. An unwanted guest, that kept taunting her. Finally, she found a place to sit under a tree, she leaned back and rested there. She began to wonder if she would ever be free from that burden, the one she hated to carry. She had kept it so well hidden for so long, it had become almost part of her. Why not leave well enough alone?
She laid her head back against the tree, and look up at the sky. She sat there for a long time, contemplating her circumstances.
Finally, when she could not longer ignore that still small voice, she yielded her will, and prayed. As she did, tears began to fall. And she felt the pull, that unmistakable pull. It was almost overwhelming, too much to bear. And she knew what must be done.
She needed to open that dark, broken place, to her Creator, first. Just as she'd done once before, with Joseph and Minnie's help. And though it went against every one of her instincts, she somehow knew it was the answer.
So Julia opened that door, and a healing work began. She stayed a long time, right there, as the tears poured out, in a seemingly endless stream.
And when there was not a single tear left to cry, she finally stood. The day had turned cooler, and dusk had fallen. Julia looked around and realized how little light was left. And she had no idea where she was. How had she come here? Which way would lead her back to her husband? From which direction had she come?
Julia turned around in circles for a minute, and squinted in every direction, trying to find something she recognized, any landmark to guide her. But, to no avail. Finally, she closed her eyes and tried to remember, tried to retrace her steps, in her mind. And when she opened her eyes again, she started out on a small path, sure it was the way in which she'd come.
She walked a long time, and by the time she cleared the forest, it was pitch black. She couldn't see six feet in front of her. But she knew from there, the house was up. So, by the light of moon, she surveyed the lay of the land, and made her way up.
And somehow, miraculously, in the distance, she could make out the faintest of lights. It seemed so far away, and was just barely visible. But it was all she needed. And the more she walked, the brighter it became. Julia walked toward that light, made it her North Star, her center, her guidepost. A repère by which to set herself, that would hopefully bring her home. And she didn't falter, but walked straight toward that light.
As Julia came nearer, the light became brighter and brighter. And eventually, she realized from whence it came. A lamp had been set out, on top of the hill. And like a beacon, she followed it home.
When she got close, she found Nathan there, just beside it. He was laying there, on blankets, looking at the stars.
He had been her repère, her true north, her beacon home.
She walked right up to the edge of the blanket and knelt down beside him. "Nathan." She rasped it out.
He sat up, so relieved to see her. "Jules." He rasped back. And she went into his arms. She just needed to feel him close, his strength around her, to be enveloped by the security of his embrace. To be held close to his heart, and to hear the steady rhythm of his love and acceptance. And both were strong and steady.
After a long moment, Julia pulled back. She knelt on the blanket just before him. "I'm sorry." She opened her mouth to say more, but closed it again. A few rogue tears escaped. She thought all the tears had been spilled, but apparently, there were still a few more, for her Nathan. "I'm sorry I froze up. I didn't mean…"
"It's okay, Julia. You don't have to." Nathan reassured her, and he meant it. Some things were hard to share, and he didn't want to push. He remembered how he, himself, had hesitated when she'd asked about Colleen. They had a lifetime ahead of them, after all, plenty of time to share the hard things.
"But I want to." She told him. She looked up at him, sitting there before her, eyes so full of compassion. How could she have faltered before? She looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "I haven't ever been able to share this with anyone."
Nathan moved closer, sat closer, and took her hand in his. He threaded their fingers together, like he always did. That connection gave her strength, just as it always had.
She started soft. "When my father died, it was the darkest time in my entire life." She kept her focus on their hands, intertwined. "He was the anchor that grounded me, the cardinal point that marked home for me." She sniffled. "Once he was gone, I felt so lost."
Nathan squeezed her hand tighter, held it close.
Her face became distorted with pain. "And I felt guilty. I still do. Nathan, my father died all alone." This brought a fresh wave of guilt and tears. How could there be any tears left to cry? "The man who had always sacrificed for us, who had always made sure Jake and I had everything we needed, he died all alone. Neither of us were there. Not Jake. Not me."
Nathan raised her hand to his lips and kissed her hand softly. He kept her hand close to his heart now, because she was breaking it. "Julia, you couldn't have known."
She nodded, sure he would say that. That was the obvious response. But, there was more, and it was a truth that cut like a knife. "That's just it. The last time I was home, the last time I was there, just before he died, I saw him. I knew he was pushing himself too hard. I saw the stress etched into his face. I felt it in my gut that something was off," she closed her eyes, couldn't bear to look at him now, for fear of what she'd find there. "But we had such a nice visit, and he made out like he was happy. So, in the end, I let it go. I returned to Halifax." He could see where the guilt had grabbed her. But even so, how could she blame herself?
The door was open now, so she spilled it all. "His eyes were fallow, he wasn't eating. Of course, I made him eat, while I was home. But after I left, I know he didn't." She tried to swallow. "He was eaten up with stress, and not sleeping. Up at all hours of the night. Headaches and sweating." She began to shake violently, but she kept going. "Even if we didn't know before, about the heart condition, all the signs were there. All of my training as a nurse, should have told me. Should have made it clear."
She sobbed now, huge racking sobs. Nathan moved and held her. He pulled her into his embrace, and held her, almost like a child. "I should have known, Nathan. I should have known. How could I not have known?" And she couldn't get out another word, her body taken over by gut-wrenching sobs.
Nathan held her close, tight and close. "Jules. My Jules." He whispered.
"How could I have just left him? Gone back to my own life in Halifax? As if everything was normal?" Her voice cracked again and she couldn't get more out. He kept right on holding her.
"I should have stayed. I should have insisted he see a doctor. At least taken his blood pressure." She looked up at Nathan, and the look on her face, broke his heart all over again.
"All of the people I've helped. All the patients I've served. And he's the one person I didn't. The most important person in my life. And I did nothing. I did nothing." She spit it out, her voice barely audible. "And I will never forgive myself."
Nathan pulled her back in close, and gently rocked her. Her gut-wrenching sobs nearly tore him in two. How could she think it was her fault? How could she put his all on herself? And how long had she lived with this torment?
When her sobs ebbed enough, he sat back just enough, and looked her straight in the eye. "Jules, it's not your fault." She looked away, avoided his gaze intentionally.
He spoke firmly. "Julia. Look at me." She did.
"It is not your fault." He insisted so strongly and so intensely, that she didn't move a muscle. Not one single muscle. His eyes seemed to bore into her, as he repeated. "Do you hear me? It is not your fault."
Julia didn't dare take her eyes off of him, but wished with all her might, that she could believe him. His gaze was so strong, she felt the first bit of hope spring up. Perhaps his words were true, or at least the smallest part of them.
Nathan wasn't done. "Jules, loved ones are often the hardest to confront. So I understand why you were hesitant." How many times had he tried to confront his own sister? Or better yet, his father? And when he did, what had those confrontations ever gotten him? They had never changed anything, in either case, but instead, had only resulted in rifts in those relationships. Rifts that he was then left apologizing for.
"Jules, your father was a grown man, fully capable of taking care of himself. I know, because he did such a wonderful job with you." He smiled in the slightest, but kept his gaze focused. "Only he is responsible for the way he took care of himself. Not you."
"But, as a nurse, I should have seen the signs." She protested. She wanted to say more, but he cut her off.
"Regardless, you are not responsible." Nathan told her, firmer now. How could he be any clearer? "Jules, he, of all people, would never want you to feel responsible." There was an undeniable truth in that statement.
"I don't think I will ever get over the fact that I wasn't there when he passed." There was that, too.
Nathan could imagine how he'd feel if he hadn't made it in time for Colleen. "You have to let it go, darling. Your father would want you to let it go."
Julia gazed deep into his eyes, eyes that were the color of the sky, at the very best part of the day. They were the blue that made the clouds stand out, stark and white, against the depth of its blue. Her very favorite hue. Something inside her wanted to believe every word he said. But could she?
"I've been so afraid to let it go. Like somehow, in letting it go, I let go of my memories of him." She admitted.
Nathan smiled reassurance. "You know that isn't true."
Julia nodded. She certainly did know, deep down, that wasn't true. Her memories were many and wonderful, and no one could rob her of them.
He placed a tender hand on her cheek, and asked her softly. "How long have you been carrying this?"
She admitted honestly. "Since the day he left us."
He kept his hand on her cheek, and looked intensely into her eyes. "Well. You no longer carry it alone."
Julia looked at him, and crumbled on the inside. In fact, every last argument and lie crumbled. Her eyes filled with tears, and she took a deep breath. Nathan was so wonderful, and attractive in the low light of the oil lamp, and his face shone with such sincerity.
Julia shifted just right, brought one hand up behind his neck, and kissed him. She kissed him long and sweet, and put all of the overwhelming affection she felt for him, into that kiss.
She pulled back just enough. "I love you, Nathan Grant." She swallowed. "Thank you for loving me."
He smiled. "I do love you. Very much." He rasped soft. "And from now on, you never have to carry anything alone. Your burdens are my burdens." He paused and searched her face. "And you never have to feel hesitant to share anything with me. I am a safe place for you."
She knew that was true. He had made her feel safer than she ever had before.
Julia smiled up at him. It was the smallest of smiles, but felt like a beautiful morning sunrise, to him. After all the tears, that tiniest of smiles felt like a huge victory. It was enough to reassure him that she was okay.
He bent down close, searched her face, and brought his lips to hers once more. He kissed her tender. Oh, so tender. Julia felt her pulse pick up. In fact, the more he kissed her, the faster her heart raced.
When then kiss deepened, Julia turned so that Nathan could pull her closer. And as the emotion built, the passion did too.
Nathan finally pulled back and let his forehead rest against hers. Both were out of breath. When Nathan looked at her, desire was in his eyes, and she felt it, too. They both longed for that deeper connection.
Nathan rasped. "Come upstairs with me?"
Julia looked up at the stars. They were so bright and beautiful, and it seemed a shame to go inside. Plus, Nathan had prepared such a beautiful place for star gazing. She wanted to make the most of it. "Couldn't we stay here?" She asked softly.
Nathan looked halfway disappointed, until she started to unbutton her blouse, and he understood her meaning. He looked around. "Here?" He managed to gruff out, it was a thrilling thought. A very romantic and thrilling thought.
She looked up at the sky again, and he saw the reflection of a thousand stars in her eyes. She was exquisitely beautiful in the moonlight. And when she removed her shirt, his breath caught. He reached over and extinguished the oil lamp. Then he came to her, pulled her close, and kissed her.
And then, under the enormous sky, by the light of a million stars, inside the warmth of those soft blankets, they came together as husband and wife. The wave of love crashed hard and washed over them, and they marveled at the sweetness of their connection.
Then, afterwards, in the calm, they cuddled together, warm and cozy. Their bodies intertwined, they enjoyed being close, and the view of the vast sky.