Page 21

21

MASON

C hristmas was approaching rapidly, and all I could think about was Connor. I knew the school term was ending soon. We texted regularly, every day, in fact, and he was looking forward to the break. The same break I was invited to for Christmas dinner with his family. Should I make an appearance, or would it be best to make an excuse and keep the same routine I've done every year during the holidays? That upcoming dinner made me nervous, and my stomach twisted every time it came to mind.

My current trip included cities and towns along Interstate 5, up and down through Washington state. I noticed I had more freight pickups on that route; many were all the way up to southern Oregon. After my Bellingham delivery, I had time to stop in Seattle to see Claudia’s parents, Jack and Sylvia.

I parked my rig at the last freight pick-up location, which gave me time to spend a late afternoon with my old in-laws. Although Jack and Sylvia hadn’t been considered my in-laws since Claudia’s death, I still referred to them as such out of respect.

I used a rideshare to take me to their waterfront condo in downtown Seattle, below the Pike Place Market. I’d always loved their place and its magnificent view of Elliott Bay. They’d lived there a little over twenty years. I’d called them yesterday to let them know I’d be coming through town and ask if they had time to visit. They were overjoyed.

Before I left my truck, I made myself presentable.I put on nice jeans, a button-up shirt, and a navy sports coat. I preferred dressing up when I saw them, even though I wasn’t ashamed of my usual trucker attire of T-shirts and flannel.They hadn’t seen me in almost seven years, and theycarried a formality that radiated class and grace. Claudia had inherited the same attributes, andI’d often reminded myself that I married up.

Once I left the Uber, I rang the callbox to their residence. The security gate buzzed, and I entered. It was a beautiful day but quite cold, and the light breeze off the water brought the wind chill down even further.

I rang their doorbell. No more than a few seconds went by, and the door opened wide; Sylvia had her arms out, beaming with the biggest smile I’d ever seen from her.Time had been good to her. She’d kept her brown hair long but tucked back into a tight bun. It was now streaked heavily with grey, but she didn’t try and cover it up. Her eyes were a bright hazel and held barely a hint of green. Not the intense green that captivated me with Claudia.

As always, she was smartly put together in slacks, a matching blouse, and her signature string of pearls. She brought me into a tight hug and held me for a long time. “I’m so happy you reached out to Jack and me. This is a lovely surprise and extremely overdue.” She pulled back and lightly swatted my arm. I noticed she had unshed tears in her eyes, and my throat tightened.

“I-I know, it’s been a long time,” was all I could get out. I smiled and looked down briefly, not wanting to get emotional in front of her.

“Come in, come in,” she said as she took the crook of my arm to lead me into their home. “Jack is finishing up a call and will join us when he’s finished. Let’s sit in the living room to catch up.”

Not much had changed over the years with their décor. They had an aesthetic that was contemporary but leaned toward Asian in style. It had subtle tones throughout, with splashes of color, mainly from silk pillows and graphic artwork. They had a kimono in bright red on the wall, illuminated by a well-placed spotlight. Most of their pieces came from travels they’d taken through the Far East, and in front of a large bank of windows facing Elliott Bay sat an ornately decorated Christmas tree that reached the ceiling, making it the focal point of the room.

No sooner had we entered the living room than Jack walked in and stopped abruptly with a drink in his hand. He gave me the once-over, the same as he’d done every time we’d got together. He had a dry sense of humor that had taken me a while to understand. His appraisal of me was the finest joke we shared. I looked at Sylvia while Jack looked me up and down. She had covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. I knew his gesture touched her memories.

Jack had never looked or acted his age. He had a full head of hair, cut in a fade that had gone mostly silver from almost black over the years. His skin was tanned, which had to do with his weekly tennis and golf games. He was fit and loved his outdoor sports. Standing before me, he wore a blue sweater vest emblazoned with a country club logo over a white polo shirt and khakis. I wished I would look half that good when I hit seventy-five.

After his humorous appraisal, Jack placed his drink on a side table and walked up to me with an outstretched hand, grinning from ear to ear. When I took his hand, he immediately pulled me into a tight hug, not letting go. This visit was going to do me in.

He finally stepped back and put both his hands on my upper arms. “It’s so great to see you, Mason. Syl and I were so happy to get your phone call yesterday. I knew there was a reason we decided to stay home this year instead of our usual trip to the desert during the holidays. We would have missed you otherwise.”

“I’m glad I had the opportunity to swing through Seattle on this trip,” I replied. “I know it’s been a long time. I-I just felt it was right to reconnect and see you both.”

We’d stayed in touch by the occasional email or a birthday card over the years. Still, the last time I’d seen these beautiful people was the third anniversary of Claudia’s burial. She was their only child. Continuing to visit that cemetery, year after year, was just too painful for me, and I couldn’t do it anymore.

Sylvia offered for me to sit with an outstretched hand and asked what I’d like to drink. Jack had his scotch in his hand, and he jiggled his glass, clinking the ice.

“I’d love a bourbon on the rocks,” I said, knowing I’d need it.

She walked over to the wet bar and deftly pulled down a tumbler, filling it with ice. I think she realized I’d need more than a single shot, and I watched her give me a very generous pour. She turned back and handed me the crystal tumbler. Again, the epitome of class.

I thanked her, and the aroma of something from the kitchen made my nostrils twitch in pleasure. Sylvia was a fabulous cook, which Claudia had also developed. “I smell something good,” I said as I looked toward the kitchen and gave her a wink.

Sylvia beamed. “Well, you’re staying for dinner, Mason and I thought you’d enjoy a home-cooked meal. I know being on the road doesn’t always afford you the luxury. Excuse me a second while I go check on it.” I smiled and nodded as I peered into the amber liquid caressing the ice in my glass. She stepped out of the room.

That gave Jack and me the chance to catch up on his endeavors and the pro football standings since we were approaching the playoffs. Jack was a diehard Seattle fan—I preferred San Francisco. That was the only rivalry Jack and I shared over the years. I enjoyed ribbing him every time San Francisco beat Seattle, especially on their home turf. Things never got heated talking sports with him. He and I understood each other.

As usual, Sylvia’s food was outstanding. We dined on Irish stew, homemade soda bread, and a vintage bottle of Cabernet—a perfect meal on a winter’s night. After dinner, we adjourned to the living room, wine glasses in hand.

“Mason, I know we haven’t seen you in quite some time, and it’s been ten years since Claudia left us.” She paused. “I know being on the road can steal much of your time, but do you have anyone special in your life?” Sylvia asked. I saw Jack look her way.

“Sylvia dear, I know it’s been a while since we’ve seen Mason, but do you think it’s appropriate to be questioning him about his love life?” Jack knew I kept things private, and I could sense he wanted the conversation to go in a different direction. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go down her line of questioning, but I decided to answer anyway.

I huffed a laugh. “It’s fine, Jack. It's been a while, and you’re both curious about what I’ve been up to besides driving my rig up and down the western states.” They sat comfortably across from me on the sofa, and I took a healthy swig of my wine.

Is this the time to talk about Connor and his eye color?

I swallowed my wine noisily and continued. “Something interesting happened late this summer in eastern Oregon. I headed south, out of Washington, stopping at a roadside rest area outside of Pendleton. A college student, who’d been hitchhiking, approached my cab and asked if he could get a lift to the university in La Grande.”

I could see they weren’t sure where the story was headed, so I cut to the chase.

“What startled me was he had the exact same emerald-green eye color as Claudia. I’ve never seen anyone with eyes that matched hers before.”

Once I’d said that, neither said a word right away as they continued to stare at me.

Jack finally spoke first. “Did you give him a lift?” He gave me an uneasy look, knowing I didn’t normally pick up hitchhikers.

“I did. I figured since I was headed to La Grande to make a delivery, it wouldn’t take me out of my way,” I replied and kept the conversation light. “He was very polite and a first-year grad student at Eastern Oregon University getting his MBA. He told me his hometown was Portland.”

At that, Jack and Sylvia looked at each other. I thoughtthatwas odd, but I didn’t say anything. I did notice that Sylvia glanced over at a framed portrait of Claudia.

Sylvia took a sip of her wine and then asked, “If he’s a first-year grad student, he must be about what, twenty-one or twenty-two?”

I responded with a laugh. “That’s funny, I asked him the same question. His name is Connor, and he told me he was twenty-two.” I couldn’t figure out where her line of questioning was headed.

Sylvia stood, glass in hand, and walked past her husband to the credenza that held Claudia’s portrait. She picked it up and looked at it intensely. I glanced at Jack, who was watching her with a pinched expression. He looked at me and gave me a little smile.

She put the picture back, walked to the sofa, and said, “Her eye color was a rarity. My mother, her grandmother, also had it.” Jack placed his arm over the back of the sofa behind her as she sat down. “Jack and I both have blue eyes. We figured that since my mother had green eyes, I must carry the gene for it.”

“Connor and I talked about eye color and genetics,” I said, looking into my glass.

We sat in silence for a brief while, and I took in the hum of a passing car outside. Sylvia then said, “You talk about him casually, but I sense something more. He must have made an impression on you?” Her motherly intuition was always spot on.

Yeah, he did. I also miss him.

“He did make an impression. He’s smart, has a great sense of humor, and he was easy to talk to.” I took a beat before I continued. “I had to make a delivery in the college town in early November, and we ran into each other again. I decided to have lunch in town, and he just happened to walk into the diner.”

Sylvia had a smile on her face when she looked at me, her kind eyes locked onto mine.

“Do you believe in fate, kismet… or destiny, Mason?”

Her question made my heart stutter. Here was another person in my life talking about fate.

“I’m beginning to,” I responded, swirling the wine in my glass.

“You know Jack and I travel quite a bit, and when you look around our home, you can see the evidence from our travels.” She swept her hand across the room. “Some of the furniture and most of the artwork come from Asian countries. I’ve always been drawn to the Asian aesthetic.”

I looked around as she spoke. “Yes, you have a lovely home,” I replied. I had no idea what that had to do with fate, though.

Jack remained quiet, almost pensive, listening to his wife as she spoke. Sylvia then asked me, “Mason, have you ever heard of the Red String Theory?”

I gave her a puzzled look and shook my head. “No, not that I recall.” I took a sip of wine, sat my glass down, and waited for her to explain.

“In Japanese culture, it’s also known as the Red String of Fate,” she began thoughtfully. “Legend tells that everyone is bound by a thin, red string tied to their little finger, which in turn is tied to someone they are destined to meet. It signifies a strong bond, a destined connection—it means you are soulmates. The string may twist, turn, or stretch, but it is unbreakable.”

A wave of confusion came over me. “But Claudia and I were married, so I thought we were soulmates. I guess I would assume our string was connected because of that.”

She smiled with a look of understanding and replied, “According to the legend, getting married doesn’t necessarily mean you are soulmates. You and Claudia had a strong, romantic, loving connection. I know you both loved each other deeply, but your red thread may not have been attached to hers. She could have been bound to someone else as well. The red threads are determined at birth.”

I sat there and tried to take it all in. Connor and I had talked about fate and destiny. If this theory is even remotely true, what does it mean for Connor and me? Did Claudia and I have red threads that were not bound together but perhaps only crossed each other?

Jack interrupted my thoughts. “Deep human connections are complicated, Mason. Sylvia and I have always believed our red thread connected us. We met, fell in love immediately, and knew it was destined. We can try and analyze predetermined paths, but things between our brains and our hearts don’t always make sense.”

They gazed at each other, and I felt my throat tighten.

“I think I know you, Mason,” Sylvia said gently as she looked my way. “Since losing Claudia, you’ve been stuck. You’ve relied on work simply to get by. I’d say you’ve been avoiding us these last few years, but I think it’s been your past emotional pain that drove that. It’s understandable, but I have this feeling that you’ve recently begun to open your heart again.”

Truthfully, she wasn’t wrong. Driving that truck was my life, my constant escape. I compartmentalized some things in my life, and I preferred it that way. I kept emotions at bay, keeping that compartment closed, and relied on logic and the order of things to keep moving forward. But after I'd spent time with Connor and seen these two tonight, I realized I’d been hiding and suffering in loneliness.

“It’s time to start living again, my dear. No matter who you meet on your path, always look for the possibility that it could lead to great things, even love,” she concluded.

I smiled. “It may seem crazy, but I think deciding to visit you tonight was destined. I have missed you, and I needed to see you again.” I stood to take my leave. “Thank you for the Eastern philosophy lesson,” I said with a chuckle. “And thank you for the phenomenal dinner. I do miss home-cooked meals.” They followed my lead as we walked to the front door.

I hugged them as we said our goodbyes. Sylvia’s eyes were rimmed with tears. “Please be safe out there, and keep us up to date on any new developments in your life?” She gave me a wink as she rubbed my arm.

I knew what she meant, and I planned on doing just that.