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chapter forty-one

Tuck

Day Nineteen

The San Fernando Valley was a wasteland. Everywhere I looked were flattened piles of ash, whole neighborhoods burned to the ground. I drove slowly past what had once been a strip mall and was now nothing more than a heap of blackened bricks. Fear trembled in the back of my throat, and I braced as I rounded the corner of the street the Swansons lived on. A breath I hadn’t realized I’d held gusted from my mouth, a wave of cool relief washing over me when their house came into view.

It’s still standing.

Thank God. Thank God.

I turned off the car I’d located in the back of an auto body shop in Mission Viejo and hot-wired. It’d been a risk to drive through the outskirts of the city, but my risk assessment had changed since I’d said goodbye to Emily. I’d half expected to be blockaded or fired upon, but I’d gotten lucky, and the car had saved me a day of walking. I sat there for a moment, gathering myself. The Swansons’ house was still there, but that didn’t mean they were okay. In fact, now that I looked around, I was spotting clues that something bad had happened here. Bullet holes riddled the side of the burned-out car sitting across from where I was, and what I thought might be old blood was smeared across the street like a profusely bleeding body had been dragged.

I got out of the car and walked slowly across the street. A hawk’s screech echoed through the stillness, and I looked up to see the bird gliding across the clear blue sky. A lizard darted from behind a rock, momentarily startling me before zipping away.

“Tuck?”

I spun around to find a man, outlined by the sun and holding a rifle, causing my heart to jolt. I put my hands up and squinted as my eyes adjusted to the bright light. “Mr. Swanson?”

“Oh, thank the good Lord. It is you. Jena said it was, but I thought she must be mistaken.” He approached quickly and wrapped me in a bear hug. “Damn, it’s good to see you. Are you okay? You look okay.”

“Tuck!” Mrs. Swanson came running out of the house, obviously having been watching from a window while Mr. Swanson exited from the back and came around behind me.

Mrs. Swanson let out a cry and gathered me in a hug. “Oh, Tuck. You’re here. Where’s Emily?” Her eyes flared with fear, obviously afraid to ask.

“She’s okay,” I said. “She’s fine. She wrote you a note.” I took it from my pocket and handed it to Mrs. Swanson.

“Oh, thank you, God, thank you,” Emily’s mother said, looking over at her husband who gave her a nod, tears in his eyes. She opened the note and scanned it quickly, bringing two fingers to her lips as she read. When she was finished, she handed it to her husband. “Our girl is fine. She’s good. I told you Tuck would take care of her,” she said. She looked at me, smiling as tears shimmered in her eyes as well. “I told Phil there’s no one better to be with Emily. No one.” She hooked her arm through mine. “Come inside. I want to hear every detail about how you made it home.”

* * *

The Swansons’ exterior was riddled with bullet holes too, and a couple of the windows were boarded up. But the inside was undamaged and looked about the same as it had the last time I’d been there, what now felt like a hundred years ago. The Christmas tree that Mrs. Swanson had just been putting up when I’d been here last was still standing. My God, what day was it? The calendar had ceased having any meaning. Christmas had come and gone, and we hadn’t even noticed.

I told the Swansons about our plane crash, and the journey home from there, not able to relay every detail lest it take four hours to tell, and also, because some of those details belonged to Emily and me alone. My heart twisted when I thought of the moments that would only ever be ours and I missed her with a ferocity that nearly brought me to my knees.

Their expressions shifted through several obvious emotions as I described what we’d gone through and what we’d seen: horror, shock, sadness, relief. “The entire country,” Mrs. Swanson murmured. “It’s what we heard but didn’t think we could believe.” Mr. Swanson took her hand in his.

“What happened here?” I asked. “There were obviously lots of fires just like in other places. But the bullets? The blood?”

“The homes left standing were attacked, including ours. We joined forces with the neighbors still here and fought back. There aren’t many, but there are enough.” She glanced at her husband again, something unspoken moving between them. “We had to. There was no other choice.”

“Of course there wasn’t,” I said. “They obviously meant you harm.”

“Whatever they wanted, they didn’t get it,” Mr. Swanson said. “We’ve since set up lookouts and have eyes on anyone coming or going. It’s how I knew you were here.”

“You did well.”

“We did what we had to do,” he said.

“What will you do now?” I asked.

He let out a long, slow breath, letting go of his wife’s hand and running his fingers over his jaw. “We’ll clear, and we’ll rebuild. Several of the citrus trees made it through the fires and we’ll begin grafting in the spring. If you have time, I’d love to go over the particulars to ensure I’m not overlooking anything. There’s no room for error right now and almost all of the others who live here moved in after the citrus business began to die.”

“Yeah, of course. I’d be happy to.” I looked between them. “It’s going to be a lot of work.”

She gave me a wistful smile. “There are plenty of young people here, and they have children. We’ll do our part, of course, but we do know our limits. We’ve made a good team so far, all of us together.”

I felt a knot in my shoulder muscles loosen. They were taken care of. They’d made it this far, and I felt confident they’d continue forward. I was especially relieved to know they’d banded together with others.

“Will you stay, Tuck?” Mrs. Swanson asked. “You would be invaluable to getting a functioning citrus farm set up. We lost some animals, but still have chickens and several goats. We’ll need to start breeding them as quickly as possible.” She brought her hand to her forehead. “Oh, there are a million things to do. But what else is there now if we want to survive?”

“I’d love to stay and help with the labor, Mrs. Swanson, but I’ve been offered a position in Kansas, and maybe other places too. There are people in need of help everywhere now, and things are only going to get worse before they get better. Especially in the cities. There are groups of people with special skills, some military, some first responders, and others, who have backgrounds like me. They’re forming teams and doing what they can for people in bad situations.”

Her brow knitted. “That sounds very dangerous.”

“Maybe. I’m up for it.”

“I know. Yes, of course you are. And we’re up for the work we have in front of us too. Thank heavens we have enough to start with.”

I also had the confidence that they were up for the task and had plenty of willing hands and strong bodies. And weapons as well. If they didn’t, well, that would be different, but they did. They had much more than most and they’d be okay. “I’d love to stay for a couple of days if you’ll allow me to, and if you have the food to spare. I’ll go over what I know about the land and the trees and anything else that might come in handy, and then I’ll take off.”

“We’ve pooled our food items in the old barn,” she said. “And we’re rationing for now, until we have more animals, and until the spring planting gets underway.”

“Wise,” I said.

She smiled and stood. “Come on, I’ll get you set up in the guest room. You must be exhausted.”

The guest room. Emily’s old room. She’d be everywhere, and though I knew it would hurt, I also desperately craved having any part of her surrounding me.

* * *

We’d eaten a rationed dinner of canned franks and beans, corn, and sourdough bread cooked over a campfire, and afterward, I wandered out back to the patio. It seemed virtually untouched from the fight that had been waged for this property, though it had aged over the years and obviously gone untended as the Swansons put all their work and focus into keeping the orchard alive. Weeds grew through the gaps in the pavers and the edging had moved so that it was now misshapen. The furniture was rusty and the planters, once overflowing with flowers, were now merely dirt. The only thing that did work was the solar lighting that twinkled around the space. I took a seat on the short rock wall, my heart heavy as I looked around.

The back door opened, and Mrs. Swanson stepped outside, smiling as she came toward me. “I’m going to clean this up in the spring,” she said. “It will be a nice space to gather again.” She sat down next to me. “We had so many good times out here, didn’t we?”

Something sharp pierced my heart, and though it hurt, it also made me smile. “I feel my mom out here,” I said. “And Em too.”

I pointed to the portion of patio where she’d always put on her performances for us. “I can still see her there and hear her voice. I knew, even then, that she’d be a star.”

I felt Mrs. Swanson’s gaze on the side of my face and turned toward her. “Oh…oh, you fell in love,” she said. It wasn’t a question; it was as though it’d been written on my face. And maybe it was. This was the one place, I supposed, where I couldn’t have kept my feelings for Emily inside even if I’d tried.

Yes. I had fallen in love with Emily. Only, falling in love with Emily had been like finding a shortcut that led back home. The journey had been effortless because I’d already been halfway there.

God, I missed her. I ached with it.

Even though I hadn’t confirmed what Mrs. Swanson said, her face blossomed in a smile. “You did. Oh. Then why? Why didn’t Emily come back here with you? Why did you separate?”

“Right now? For the promise of safety. Neither one of us knew if you all were…”

“Yes, of course,” she said. “You didn’t know if we’d even be here.” Her gaze drifted away. “So many have died.”

We were quiet for a moment, letting that awful reality settle. “But long term?” she asked.

“I don’t have anything to offer her right now. Even if— when —Emily makes it home, I can’t stay here, clearing land and planting trees.”

“There will be quite a bit more to it than that.”

“I know, but you get my point. For six years, I was purposeless.” I tilted my head, looking up at the night sky, stars just blinking to life. It stretched on and on, just like I remembered from my childhood. “I woke in the morning and ate breakfast and then worked out, read, ate lunch, dinner, went to bed and then woke up and did the same damn thing the next day. I have a chance now to be out there, serving others, making up for the lives that were lost because of me. Emily… Emily deserves someone who doesn’t have the baggage I do. And I…well, I have the chance to offset some of what I did, and who would I be if I didn’t take it?”

“A man who’s decided he deserves some happiness. And some peace.”

“Do I though? The people who were harmed because of me, and those who lost their lives, will never have happiness, or peace, so why should I?”

“Because, Tuck, you still have love in your heart and breath in your lungs. I’m sorry for what you’ve suffered. Sometimes I blame myself for what happened to you.”

“What? Why? No. You had no part—”

“I could have talked to your father and begged him not to let you go to LA. I could have gone there myself and dragged you back and taken you in—”

“I wouldn’t have let you. Please don’t blame yourself. I’m the only one who should bear that burden.”

“I love you though, sweetheart. And when your heart breaks, so does mine. You’ve always been the son I never had, and Mariana would have wanted me to step in more than I did. I let her down, too.”

“No, no. I don’t want you to feel that way. Please don’t. My choices are mine. I made them, and I’m the one who should suffer for them.”

“How long should you suffer? Is there a time limit? Will you know when it arrives?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Or is it putting your own life in danger that you believe is the necessity? Or maybe sacrificing yourself altogether, you being the one to die this time instead of someone else. Will that balance the scales? Is that what you’re after? Because if so, just know that you dying will kill part of us too. And Emily.”

“I’m not suicidal if that’s what you’re asking. I’m just… I’m trying to find redemption.”

I ran my hand through my hair. I was confused and my purpose, the one I’d been so set on, wobbled before me. Emily had made similar points in that laundromat in LA, but it’d been easier to dismiss what she’d said then with the stench of dead bodies all around us and the recent vision of those I cared about rotting in their living rooms.

She reached over and took my hand. “I understand that, I do, and, Tuck, you’ve done heroic deeds to help others who weren’t able to help themselves. When presented the opportunities, you took them and I’m proud of you for that. But will serving strangers really bring you the redemption you’re seeking?”

“Maybe not, but what else do I have?”

“You have the opportunity to earn grace every day by loving well and living with honor, and yes, by tending the earth too and rebuilding what has been destroyed. By doing your part to help a community who could use your labor and your knowledge. Perhaps you don’t see the importance of those roles?” She paused but didn’t wait for me to answer. “But beyond any of that, it sounds like you have Emily.”

Emily. Just hearing her name made my heart twist with longing. “We were only meant to be temporary.”

I looked away but again felt her stare. “Is it only that you believe you’re not worthy of Emily?” she asked. “Is it really redemption you’re seeking? Or is it love you’re running from?”

I felt a soft clunk inside me. “What?”

She tightened her fingers around my hand. “It’s scary, I understand. You lost so much, everything that you held dear and true. Your past and your future. It was all so suddenly gone. It’s terrifying to put yourself in a position where that might happen again. To lay your heart on the line must seem like the riskiest thing you could ever do after the rug was swept out from under you once before. Perhaps it’s easier to focus on your guilt, rather than your fear.”

I sighed. Okay, she was right. I could admit that. The thought of handing my heart to Emily had me quaking. I could stare down the barrel of a gun, but I couldn’t bear the thought of her looking at me with revulsion someday and walking out the door. “Even if I stay, what if Emily eventually decides she made a mistake? We went on this intense journey where we became close. We bonded. That was bound to happen, I guess. But what about some ordinary Tuesday when she looks over at me and realizes how much better she could have done?” What if she takes her love and leaves?

“I can’t answer all these questions for you, sweetheart. I wish I could. But you’re going to have to come to the answers inside yourself because that’s the only place the truth exists. What I will say is this—you have a legacy, Tuck. That didn’t go away because your mom died, or your father sold this land. A legacy is everlasting. You forgot that for a while. I hope you remember.”

And then she gave my hand one last squeeze, stood, and went back inside, leaving me alone under the stars.