I finally stood and began the slow walk to my car. I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go, other than that I needed to get as far away from the hospital as I could. I needed to leave Lenoir, if only to give myself a chance to think. I dug my hands into my pockets and fished out my keys.
It was only when I got close to my car that I realized Savannah’s truck was parked next to mine. Savannah was sitting in the front seat, and when she saw me coming, she opened the door and got out. She waited for me, smoothing her blouse as I drew near.
I stopped a few feet away.
“John,” she said, “you left without saying good-bye last night.”
“I know.”
She nodded slightly. We both understood the reason.
“How did you know I was here?”
“I didn’t,” she said. “I went by the motel and they told me you’d checked out. When I came here, I saw your car and decided to wait for you. Did you see Tim?”
“Yeah. He’s doing better. He thinks he’ll be getting out of the hospital later today.”
“That’s good news,” she said. She motioned to my car. “Are you leaving town?”
“Gotta get back. My leave’s up.”
She crossed her arms. “Were you going to come say good-bye?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”
I saw a flash of hurt and disappointment on her face. “What did you and Tim talk about?”
I looked over my shoulder at the hospital, then back at her. “You should probably ask him that question.”
Her mouth formed a tight line, and her body seemed to stiffen. “So this is good-bye?”
I heard a car honk on the road out front and saw a number of cars suddenly slow. The driver of a red Toyota veered into the other lane, doing his best to get around the traffic. As I watched, I knew I was stalling and that she deserved an answer.
“Yes,” I said, slowly turning back to her. “I think it is.”
Her knuckles stood out white against her arms. “Can I write to you?”
I forced myself not to look away, wishing again that the cards had fallen differently for us. “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Yes, you do,” I said. “You’re married to Tim, not me.” I let that sink in while gathering my strength for what I wanted to say next. “He’s a good man, Savannah. A better man than me, that’s for sure, and I’m glad you married him. As much as I love you, I’m not willing to break up a marriage for it. And deep down, I don’t think you are, either. Even if you love me, you love him, too. It took me a little while to realize that, but I’m sure of it.”
Left unspoken was Tim’s uncertain future, and I could see her eyes beginning to fill with tears.
“Will we ever see each other again?”
“I don’t know.” The words burned in my throat. “But I’m hoping we don’t.”
“How can you say that?” she asked, her voice beginning to crack.
“Because it means that Tim’s going to be okay. And I have a feeling that it’s all going to turn out the way it should.”
“You can’t say that! You can’t promise that!”
“No,” I said, “I can’t.”
“Then why does it have to end now? Like this?”
A tear spilled down her face, and despite the fact that I knew I should simply walk away, I took a step toward her. When I was close, I gently wiped it away. In her eyes I could see fear and sadness, anger and betrayal. But most of all, I saw them pleading with me to change my mind.
I swallowed hard.
“You’re married to Tim, and your husband needs you. All of you. There’s no room for me, and we both know there shouldn’t be.”
As more tears started flowing down her face, I felt my own eyes fill up. I leaned in and kissed Savannah gently on the lips, then took her in my arms and held her tight.
“I love you, Savannah, and I always will,” I breathed. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You were my best friend and my lover, and I don’t regret a single moment of it. You made me feel alive again, and most of all, you gave me my father. I’ll never forget you for that. You’re always going to be the very best part of me. I’m sorry it has to be this way, but I have to leave, and you have to see your husband.”
As I spoke, I could feel her shaking with sobs, and I continued to hold her for a long time afterward. When we finally separated, I knew that it would be the last time I ever held her.
I backed away, my eyes holding Savannah’s.
“I love you, too, John,” she said.
“Good-bye.” I raised a hand.
And with that, she wiped her face and began walking toward the hospital.
Saying good-bye was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Part of me wanted to turn the car around and race back to the hospital, to tell her that I would always be there for her, to confide in her the things Tim had said to me. But I didn’t.
On the way out of town, I stopped at a small convenience store. I needed gas and filled the tank; inside, I bought a bottle of water. As I approached the counter, I saw a jar that the owner had set out to collect money for Tim, and I stared at it. It was filled with change and dollar bills; on the label, it listed the name of an account at a local bank. I asked for a few dollars in quarters, and the man behind the counter obliged.
I was numb as I made my way back to the car. I opened the door and began fishing through the documents that the lawyer had given me, looking also for a pencil. I found what I needed, then went to the pay phone. It was located near the road, with cars roaring past. I dialed information and had to press the receiver hard against my ear to hear the computerized voice give me the number I’d requested. I scrawled it on the documents, then hung up. I dropped some coins into the slot, dialed the long-distance number, and heard another computer-generated voice request even more money. I dropped in a few more coins. Soon I could hear the phone ringing.
When it was answered, I told the man who I was and asked if he remembered me.
“Of course I do, John. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. My dad passed away.”
There was a short pause. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “You doing okay?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
“Is there anything I can do?”
I closed my eyes, thinking of Savannah and Tim and hoping somehow that my dad would forgive me for what I was about to do. “Yes,” I said to the coin dealer, “actually there is. I want to sell my dad’s coin collection, and I need the money as quickly as you can get it to me.”
EPILOGUE
Lenoir, 2006
What does true love really mean?
I think about the question again as I sit on the hillside and watch Savannah moving among the horses. For a moment, I flash to the night I showed up at the ranch to find her… but that visit, a year ago now, feels more and more like a dream to me.
I sold the coins for less than they were worth, and piece by piece, I knew that the remains of my dad’s collection would be distributed to people who would never care as much about them as he did. In the end, I saved only the buffalo head nickel, for I simply couldn’t bear to give it up. Aside from the photo, it’s all I have left of my dad, and I always carry it with me. It’s a talisman of sorts, one that carries with it all my memories of my dad; every now and then, I remove it from my pocket and stare at it. I’ll run my fingers over the plastic case that holds the coin, and all at once, I can see my dad reading the Greysheet in his office or smell the bacon as it sizzles in the kitchen. I find that it makes me smile, and for a moment, I feel that I’m no longer alone.
But I am, and part of me knows that I always will be. I hold this thought as I search out the figures of Savannah and Tim in the distance, holding hands as they walk to the house; I see them touch in a way that speaks of their genuine affection for each other. They look good as a couple, I have to admit. When Tim calls to Alan, he joins them, and the three of them head inside. I wonder for a moment what they’re talking about as they enter, for I’m curious about the little details of their lives, but I’m fully aware that it’s none of my business. I have heard, however, that Tim is no longer receiving treatment and that most people in town expect him to recover.