Author’s Note – In Chapter 2, Kimme and her father James travel to Ionia for his 50th high school reunion, and spend time visiting sights in the small town of Ionia. Kimme encounters two of his classmates, one pleasant and one not. She continues to learn about the effects of his ailment, both physical and emotional.
She felt her throat tighten. “Why didn’t you tell me you were lonely, Dad?”
Now he did look at her. “Kimme, we haven’t exactly been on the best terms for the last twenty years, so what would you have done if I had? I know you blame me for everything and I’m not saying you’re wrong. Why would I dump this on you?”
He was right, of course, but Kimme said, “Ok, then what? You move back to Ionia in hopes these people will be your friends? Because otherwise going to this reunion is a moment in time, like a drink of water for a man in a desert.”
He laughed at that. “When did you get dramatic? ‘A drink of water for a man in a desert’? I should write that down.”
“Metaphors aren’t my strong suit. But what do you do after tonight?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. Let’s go back to the hotel. I’m ready to rest for a while.”
“What about lunch?” Kimme asked.
“I’m not hungry. You can drop me off and go get something for yourself.”
She pulled into the B&B parking lot and he got out of the car. She watched him slowly take the front stairs; one foot up followed by the other to the same step. After he made it through the door, she shut off the engine and sat in the car.
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At five o’clock she texted to ask when he wanted to leave. He didn’t reply for about thirty minutes, then said he was ready and would meet her by the front desk.
She took the stairs down and saw him checking his phone near the door. He looked good – blue slacks, medium blue striped shirt, black loafers – but not too snazzy. He dressed to fit in with the likely crowd. He looked rested and when he turned to her, she saw a smile on his face.
“As we say in California, nice threads, Dad.”
“Thanks, little girl. Ready to go?”
He moved quicker than before and seemed to be pushing himself to stand taller and speak louder. She understood, now.
The drive to the reunion was short, and she dropped him at the curb. “Text me when you’re ready for me to pick you up. And remember, young man, make good choices!”
He laughed. “Thanks mom, I will,” then closed the car door. She saw him approach another man, place a hand on his shoulder and shake his hand and walk into the church together.
Kimme stopped for dinner at The Saxon and enjoyed a hot dog with the fixings and cheese fries. He was right about them. Back at the B&B, she saw an email from Paul letting her know all was well with her grapes. It was the first time she had thought about the winery since she left. While she was scrolling through Facebook, she heard a knock on her door.
“Hello, Ms. Moore. Mr. Moore asked me to deliver this to you,” said Kayla, the girl who was working the desk earlier.
She took the letter and sat on the edge of the bed. She turned the envelope over in her hands and then over again. The stationary was from the B&B. She slid out two handwritten pages:
“Kimme:
First, thanks for coming with me to Ionia. I bet you had your hesitations, and I can’t fault you for that. To be honest, I’m not sure why we’re here. Like you said, if this is a great experience it’s one day in my life, not a cure for my situation. But I decided I need to start thinking one day at a time, which is foreign to me. I’ve lived my life with my eyes on the prize, sometimes to the exclusion of all else – time, people, feelings – and I’m sorry it’s taken Parkinson’s to change that.
I’ve gotten a lot more introspective of late and I don’t always like what I see. I’ve hurt people I love, most importantly your mother and you. We never talked about what happened because you were too young. Then you got older, and I never had the courage to bring it up, knowing how angry and hurt you were.
I made a huge mistake, Kimme. Your mom did nothing but love me and I took her love for granted. I figured I could have much more in life besides a wife and a kid and a home. I could have excitement and risk and triumph, all the things I had in my work life. I sought it out, and I found it. I ruined my life and hers and yours. OK, there I go being dramatic. After your mother and I divorced, I protected myself from my own judgment by not looking back on what happened. You figured out life and from what I can see, you’re doing great. Susie, I’m not so sure about. She always told me everything was good, but I think she didn’t want me to know when she struggled. When she passed, it hit me hard – her life was less than it should have been, and the biggest reason for that was me.
Is this some kind of payback for the life I’ve led? I don’t know. I struggle with the concept of trusting in some all-powerful being who will take care of me. I’ve always had more confidence in my own ability to do that. Now I have this disease which is changing me, and I can’t stop it. And I can’t look to God at this point after looking away from him my whole life – I have to believe he’d see right through that. All I care about at this point is to find some way to make things better with my daughter. To let her know how sorry I am about everything. To let her know how much I love her.
Love, Dad
There it was. Kimme had been waiting for this for years. Waiting for him to admit his mistake and apologize for what he had done to Mom and to their little family. Now it had happened and all she could think about was her mother.
Kimme laid back on a pillow. Memories of her mother flooded her mind. Memories of walks, shopping trips and long talks about boys and girls and everything. She had always been there for Kimme. When she was in college and feeling empty, Mom came to hold her, cry and tell her everything would be OK. When her relationship with Sean had fallen apart after he cheated, it was Mom who made her realize Sean the person, not Sean the representative of all men, was to blame.
She laid there, still, thinking until her phone dinged and she saw his text. Where had the last two hours gone? Where had eleven years gone?
Kimme drove to the First Presbyterian Church and waited for him to come out. When he appeared, she saw he was trying to be upright and confident. He opened the car door and said, “Hi baby, how long have you been waiting? You should have let me know you were here.”
She replied with silence, conflict bubbling below the surface. There was his apology and the imminence of his decline on one side. There was her mother and the years of hurt and anger on the other. She was on the narrowest precipice between them.
His smile faded. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
She closed her eyes tight and held them there for a second before she said, “Your letter. It’s a lot to absorb, Dad. I need some time to think, OK?”
“Sure, honey, I understand.”
When they arrived, Kimme exited the car and went inside without waiting for him, not out of anger but confusion. She opened the minibar in her room and decided the Columbia Crest Chardonnay would be her companion.
There was no clarity for her this evening. Was she being manipulated by a father who was trying to use his disease to gain sympathy and forgiveness? She remembered the grace her mother exhibited before she died when she told Kimme he was a good man and that she had forgiven him. She also remembered how he had left them to fend for themselves. There were needs coming rapidly in his life. Who would be there for him when they did?
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Sleep evaded her. By 7:00am she showered and packed, two hours before the limo would pick them up for the ride back to Grand Rapids.
His text was brief: Are you up?
“Yes,” she replied.
“Can we talk?”
She wanted to know where she was with everything before she faced him. “I still need some time.”
“OK”
Kimme strolled the streets without a destination in mind. Her feet led her back to the First Presbyterian Church, where she stood in the same spot she had two days ago, in front of the now out-of-date placard advertising the reunion.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” someone said. When she turned, she saw the friendly, weathered face of Pete Dolan.
Kimme gave him a weak smile. He replied with words that many would think but few would say, “You don’t look too good, Kimme.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“I hope you weren’t up worrying about Jim. All things considered, he seems to be doing OK.”
“I know. Like you said, he keeps swinging.”
“There’s more to it than that, dear. He knows he’s fighting a losing battle but he’ll fight anyway. Right now, I’d say he’s more concerned about making things right with you.”
Kimme couldn’t return his gaze as she felt the now-familiar welling in her eyes. “It seems a bit late, Pete.”
“Dear, as long as he’s still around, it’s not too late for him to be sorry and for you to forgive him. He talked to me last night. It would’ve been better if he’d done a lot of things different, but there’s no changing the past. You gotta decide what’s right for you and for him.”
“I’ve been trying to figure that out for a long time, only now there’s a clock ticking.”
“Yeah, there is. I can tell you is last night I saw a good man who made a mistake. The thing he cares about now is knowing his daughter forgives him. You think about that,” he said, touched her arm gently and walked away.
Kimme took a deep breath. Her mom had said almost exactly the same thing eleven years ago. She hadn’t honored her mom by doing what she had done, forgiving him.
She stopped for coffee and made her way back to the B&B. The limo was already waiting, so she grabbed her bag and came back downstairs. Her dad gave her a look and a quiet “Good morning” when she came close.
They walked out to the limo where the driver helped them into the car. A few miles down the road, her dad asked again, “Do you feel like talking?”
“OK”
He started, “Kimme, I apologized and it made things more confused between us, which wasn’t what I was after. Can you help me understand?”
“Why did it take you getting sick before you came to me? Where was this twenty years ago?”
“Buried under pride, something I don’t have any more. Or maybe I do, but I care more about other things now. I waited until your mother was dying before I told her I was sorry, and now this has happened before I told you. You’d think I would’ve learned, but I didn’t.
“Your mom left this for us to work out, Kimme. She wanted us to have each other when she was gone, but she wasn’t going to use her illness to get us to do something we weren’t ready for. She didn’t think forgiveness in a situation like that would stick. I’m not sure, but I failed your mom, and I don’t want to fail her again by not making things right between us. Tell me, please, what can I do?”
Kimme didn’t know what to say. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Her mom had tried to show her the power of grace, and she had learned to grant it to Sean and everyone else, except the most important person left in her life. But if her mom had forgiven him, how could she not? She wrapped her arm through his and whispered, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”
“Me too, little girl. Me too.”
They were quiet for a time, with silent tears for the years they missed with each other. After those minutes passed, a genuine, loving smile took over Kimme’s face, “Tell me about the reunion.”
Three weeks later…
Kimme dialed his number and waited for him to answer. On the fourth ring, he did.
“Dad, I need a favor.”
He laughed, a hearty laugh that stayed strong. “Who is this?”
“I need a favor, Dad. We have our key season for visitors at the winery coming up and we are very short-handed. It would mean a lot to me if you could pour tastes for our guests for a few weeks. They’re from all over the country and are just want a little conversation and some good wine. When Paul mentioned it, I thought you might be interested. Of course, I’ll pay for everything.”
“I’ll have to check my calendar and get back to you. I’m pretty booked up, but I might be able to make it work.”
“Who knows, maybe you’ll come out here and love it like I do, and finally leave Saltwater City.”
He laughed again. “We’ll see, little girl, we’ll see.”
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