Mona Lisa My Love

Chapter Forty-four

The ride over to pick up Sarah didn't take very long, but the whole way there I was thinking about my feelings. Am I nervous? Should I even be going? Is it too soon to be meeting her parents? As I arrived at her place and saw her bounding down the steps, I knew it was the right time.

The drive took just under four hours, but the time went by quickly. We talked the whole way down. I was learning about her parents and brothers and sisters. Sarah had three older brothers and two younger sisters.

At one point, she told me that her parents didn't know I was coming, and her dad was very protective and probably wouldn't like me. He would likely shoot me. She solemnly said if he asked me to go hunting, I should decline. That was how she lost her last boyfriend. They never did find the body. It wasn't until I was slowing the car down because I felt I was going to be sick that she started laughing and told me she was kidding. I wanted to throw her out of the car. She, of course, thought it was hilarious.

It took another twenty miles to convince me that she had told them I was coming and that they were looking forward to meeting me. She also said I needed to get tougher quickly because her family was going to eat me alive. She said they are like a school of piranhas feeding on a wounded animal if they smell fear. I started to dread meeting her family, and I reminded her that she promised to protect me.

The weekend went very well. Instead of eating me alive, as Sarah had predicted they took me to heart. I spent time with each of them, and then all of them together at dinner. Even Sarah's grandmother Jean was there. She was a hoot. She told stories of jolly old England and the times growing up on the farm, out in the country. Jean also spoke of the London raids during the war and the shortages they had endured. Butter was something you only dreamed about if you lived in London back then, but being in the countryside, they had more than the people in the city. I was fascinated with her stories and was sorry to have to leave that Sunday night.

Sarah and I ran every morning that weekend. I played tennis with and against her brothers and sisters. The whole family played a card game that reminded me of a scene in a movie with Matthew McConaughey. In the film, he takes the girl to his parents' house, and they played "Bull Shit." Sarah's family didn't call it that, but it was a similar game. "Truth or Consequences" might have been an appropriate name. It was a great way to learn about a group of people you don't know.

When we were all seated for dinner, grace was said, but instead of being recited by one person, everyone participated. We each, in turn, spoke about what we were thankful for and what was the best part of each person's day. It had been a very long time since I had been part of a family dinner. The last time was the day before the fire, and at that time I had taken the whole family gathering for granted. Like it was nothing. Like it didn't matter. Like dinners and meetings would always be there. These people were telling each other how much they meant to them, as well as how grateful they were for their good fortune. The fantastic thing for me was that they said all these beautiful things, and yet they had never had a horrible event happen to them.

The first night at dinner, I lost it. I had to leave the table and go outside to calm my thoughts and collect myself. I had too many feelings welling up inside me. I was very embarrassed, and I wasn't even sure I could go back to the table, but Sarah's mother came out, sat down on the front step next to me, and asked if I needed to talk. I said how sorry I was for ruining their dinner.

She said, "I can't begin to know the pain you have been through, but I know a little about pain." I looked at her, and she continued, "I lost my first two children. I didn't take my pregnancy seriously enough. I had two miscarriages. Not many people know about that. Even Sarah and the kids don't know." I looked at her in amazement. She had just met me an hour before, and now she was telling me her darkest secret. "I know a little about the fire and all that you lost, and I am so sorry. When you are ready, please come in and have dinner. But take as long as you need."

And with that, she hugged me and left. Wow, I thought — what a strong woman. I dried my tears, wiped my face, took a deep breath, and joined everyone again in the dining room. No one had eaten a thing. They were all discussing the day's events, and who cheated whom and at what. As soon as I sat down, it was "Please pass this" or "Can I have some more of that." Not a word was said about my needing to leave. Sarah smiled at me and squeezed my hand and then grabbed a platter as it was passing in front of her.

After dinner, Sarah's sister Sammy and I did the dishes. It was her turn, and I wanted to fit in, so I helped. Sammy told me stories of Sarah and the others growing up. Sammy was laughing as she was sharing with me about the gangly girl back in school. Sarah came in then and hollered at Sammy for telling stories. Then Sarah related a story about Sammy having a crush on a boy and getting a kiss at eight years old. The two of them went back and forth with stories until I was nearly on the floor laughing. It had been a long time since I had laughed that hard.

On the ride home, I said, "I like your family. Especially Sammy. She is funny with all her stories."

"I'm glad you like my family because they like you very much and want me to bring you back," Sarah said.

I wasn't prepared for that. I thought about my reactions during dinner to Sarah's family's closeness. Was I ready to be part of a family? I didn't know. I was getting choked up, I couldn't speak.

"It's all good," she said. I think she could see how much I was struggling. She reached for my hand.

"I had it all. I had a perfect life. I had the perfect family. I never appreciated all that I had, and I took it all for granted. Now it's all gone, but how can I feel sorry for myself when so many people have so much less than I do? When I help at the food cupboard or serve at the shelters, I see people with so much less than I have. I have no right to feel bad. I get angry with myself for having so much. I am angry with myself for not doing more. I am angry with myself for being ALIVE!" I pounded the steering wheel with tears flowing down my face.

It was silent for some time before either of us spoke. I was trying to calm down. I was feeling a lot of emotions, and I was trying to sort them all out. At the same time, I was feeling ashamed for my outburst.

Sarah finally asked, "How you doing?" And damn if I didn't start laughing. I was laughing so hard that Sarah must have thought I was cracking up. In a way I was, but mostly I think I was letting go of a lot of baggage I had buried for a long time.

Sarah was watching me, and when I finally stopped laughing and wiped my tears, I said, "I'm sorry. Just then you sounded like Joey from Friends, saying, "How you doin'?" and it struck me as funny. That's all. Sorry, but you know how whacked my sense of humor can be."

She nodded, but before she could speak, I said, "And I am sorry for my outburst just now. And at dinner as well. I am sure it was all stuff I didn't even know I had all bottled up inside. But being with your family and seeing all I had lost and felt guilty for surviving the fire...it all just came out. I am so sorry you had to see all that. I do feel guilty that I am alive. I do feel guilty that I don't do more for people. I want to be like my dad, but I am not him. I have learned he was such a great man, how can I ever live up to his legacy? I want to feel he would be proud of me."

Sarah took my hand and said gently, "You are not your father. You are you, and what do you want your legacy to be? That is the only thing that matters. And don't worry...in ten years, when we have a dozen kids, four dogs, three cats, and a goat running around our house, I won't let you forget today, the day you set yourself free."

"What?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you I want a dozen kids?" she said laughing.

"No, it was the goat. I never agreed to the goat!" I said.

Now it was my turn to laugh, but inside I was still hurting. I could still feel the pain and the overwhelming loss, but for the first time, I got the feeling that I was falling in love, with Sarah. Truly in love, maybe for the first time in my life. I would have to ponder that, I thought. I smiled at Sarah and squeezed her hand.