Her father lifted the pistol. “No. It belonged to a friend of mine in Nam. He left it to me.” The weapon looked hard and dangerous. Her father retrieved a rectangular piece of metal and slid it into the handle of the pistol where the sound of metal clicking against metal had a tone of finality. “This is the clip that holds the ammunition.”
“Should you load it?”
“The clip’s empty,” he told her. “No shells.”
Shannon smiled weakly. “So it’s just a souvenir?” She stared at him, her eyes holding his, making her feel like she had somehow cornered him.
“Yes. That’s one way of seeing it—it’s a souvenir.”
“Zack and I can help you put everything away,” she offered.
“Yes, sir,” Zack added quickly. “It’ll only take a minute.”
“No, you kids go on up to the house. There are things I want to do by myself.”
“But Daddy—”
Her father flashed her a warning look, and she felt Zack tug on her arm gently. “We’ve still got to take care of the horses. Let’s leave your dad alone.”
She followed Zack into the stable area where Black and Pippin were munching on hay. Wordlessly, they put the animals into separate stalls and made sure they had feed and water. Outside the barn, Zack said, “I’ll walk you to your house.”
“You don’t have to. I know it’s late and maybe your grandma’s worried.”
He hesitated. “Okay. Maybe I should get my bike and get out of here. Are you all right? Did your dad upset you?”
“I’m fine,” she lied. “He’ll be fine, too,” she insisted evasively, more for her own benefit than Zack’s.
“Thanks for letting me ride Pippin. I really enjoyed it.”
“Me too.” She watched him retrieve his motorcycle from the empty stall where he usually stashed it. “See you tomorrow,” she called. He waved and she watched him ride out of the barn and up the shale driveway that led to the highway.
Stars were beginning to appear in the darkening sky, and the air was warm and muggy, heavy with humidity left over from the summer rain. Shannon hugged her arms to her body and shivered. Things were not getting better with her father. He was retreating farther away from them, and it scared her. If only he could be happy again. If only she could devise some plan to draw him close. With a shake of her head, Shannon hurried toward her house, where she felt safe in the brightness.
On Friday, Shannon met her grandmother in the hospital cafeteria. “You might want to try the salad bar,” Grandmother said as she led the way into the dining area. “It’s quite tasty and there’s all sorts of healthy things to choose from.”
Shannon’s eyes darted around the room. Sunshine gleamed through a wall of narrow windows decorated with miniblinds and hanging green plants. Doctors, nurses, and technicians in white sat at Formica-topped tables. She felt out of place. “Is it all right for us to be in here?” she asked.
“This is the staff cafeteria. Visitors eat in another.”
Two nurses greeted her grandmother, who introduced her as “my sweet granddaughter.”
“You look lovely, dear,” Grandmother commented as they chose a table by the windows.
Shannon’s pantyhose felt like they were suffocating her legs. “You know I’d rather be in jeans.”
“It’s just for an hour. It’s important to dress properly, Shannon.” Grandmother led the way to the salad bar. “What did you think of my new office?” she asked as Shannon heaped her plate with lettuce and vegetables.
The “office” was a tiny cubbyhole with a desk and a small file cabinet. Photos of Shannon and her parents were perched on the desk alongside a crystal vase that held a single red rose. “It doesn’t have any windows.”
“Yes, but I have a phone and the ear of the public relations manager. Together, we’re planning quite a fête champêtre for August.”
“A what?”
Grandmother laughed and settled in her chair. “A party. You remember—that charity ball I told you about.” Shannon nodded and took a bite of salad. “We’re holding it in the grand ballroom of the Read House.” Shannon knew the hotel to be one of Chattanooga’s oldest and finest. “We’re using a fairytale motif and the invitations will read: ‘Make Happily Ever After Come True.’ ” She flashed Shannon a smile. “Do you like?”
“Sounds good to me, Grandma.”
“We’ll have to buy you something very special to wear.”
“Are you sure Mom and Dad will come?”
“Well, of course they’ll come. It will be quite a social event and our family has status in the community, you know.”
Shannon had heard about her family status many times. Her Grandfather Campbell had been well respected in the community both as a doctor and an outstanding horseman. She was only two when he’d died, so she didn’t remember him, except through old photographs. She sometimes wished she did. Shannon had been told that her grandfather had come home after work one day and dropped dead of a heart attack. It had been a shock to the whole family. “All right, I’ll buy a new dress,” Shannon said, smiling at her grandmother, “but something that makes me look sophisticated instead of like a kid.”
Grandmother arched an eyebrow. “Oh really? Could there be a Prince Charming waiting to whisk you away?”
Shannon giggled, partly to cover her discomfort. “What prince is going to ride away with me when I already have my own horse? Especially a horse that I like better than any prince.”
Grandmother laughed along with her. “Just you wait, young lady. In a few more years, your perfect Prince Charming will come along and then we’ll talk about the importance of that silly old horse.”
“Don’t let Black hear you. He’d be offended. He already thinks he’s a person.”
“Of course, I hope it’s not too soon. I know how much your father enjoys your riding competitions. He’s always had big dreams for you, you know.”
“I know. They’re my dreams, too. With Daddy’s help, they’ll come true.”
“How’s the training coming along?” Grandmother asked.
“Slow. Dad’s been busier than usual, so he’s not had much time to help me yet. He’s been pretty down lately, too.”
Her grandmother’s expression grew serious. “I am a little concerned about your father.”
“Me too,” Shannon admitted. Just then, someone greeted Grandmother. She smiled, but Shannon could tell that it was forced. “Let’s go back to my office when you’re finished eating and we can talk in private.”
“I’m finished,” Shannon said, rising quickly from her chair. “Let’s go now.”
Chapter Seven
The hospital halls were quiet. “Everybody’s still at lunch,” Grandmother reminded her. In her office, Grandmother sat behind her desk and Shannon settled in a metal folding chair.
“What’s wrong with Daddy?” Shannon blurted out, unable to contain herself a minute longer.
“I’m sorry, dear. I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Grandmother said with a kind smile. “He seemed rather distracted at your party and I’m a little concerned about him. Now you tell me he’s not helping with Black’s training.”
“He asked Mom to help, then he went away for a few days. He came back feeling happier, but I can tell he’s not his usual self. Mom just says to wait it out. That he’ll get over his blues eventually. We’re supposed to go to Nashville for a big horse show next weekend.”
Grandmother seemed relieved. “That’s good. I know that horse shows usually perk him up.”
“But the other night I found him going through his old army trunk in the tack room. There was a whole bunch of stuff I’d never seen before—old army souvenirs,” Shannon confided, though she thought it best not to mention the pistol.
Grandmother laced her fingers together and leaned forward. “That was such a terrible time for him. For all of us really. Your grandfather was so certain that Vietnam was a noble war, and Paul—most of his friends, too—didn’t. We had some pretty heat
ed discussions about it.”
“But Daddy went.”
“Yes. So did most of his friends. Several of them died over there, too. It was a sad, terrible time. Vietnam changed him, you know.”
“How?”
“It took away his idealism. He and your grandfather didn’t always see eye to eye on matters. Especially when it came to performing one’s patriotic duty.” Grandmother frowned and shook her head. “Your grandfather didn’t truly understand your father and his deep sensitivity toward life. Paul was always rather serious—even as a child. He wanted the world to be perfect and life to be fair. It isn’t.” She paused. “You know that, don’t you, Shannon?”
“I guess so. I’ve never really thought about it much.”
“Paul tends to be disillusioned easily. That’s why I was so glad he married a woman like your mother. She was never very close to her own family and was glad to join the Campbell household. She’s practical and lighthearted. It’s a good balance between them, I think.”
It pleased Shannon knowing that Grandmother approved of her mother. She thought of how Heather had told her that her grandparents didn’t like her mother at all and they complained every chance they got. “Mom’s doubled the membership of the Pony Club in a year. We’ve got a picnic and the annual overnight camp-out already planned for this summer.”
“You mean sleep outside on the ground?” Her grandmother wrinkled her nose.
“It’s fun, Gram. We ride our horses on the backside of the mountain and pitch tents and camp under the stars.”
A gentle tap on the door made both of them look up. “Is this a private party, or can anybody come?” a woman asked.
“Madeline,” Grandmother said, rising, “come in and meet my granddaughter, Shannon.”
Shannon was sorry for the interruption, but she smiled at the small, plump woman who looked about the same age as her grandmother. “This is Madeline Lawrence. She’s on staff here at the hospital.”
“So you’re the reason Betty was otherwise engaged at lunch today, leaving us without a fourth for our bridge game,” Madeline said with a twinkling eye.
“I guess so.”
“You’re forgiven,” Madeline told her. “If I had a granddaughter, I’d want to have lunch with her, too.”
Shannon asked, “Do you have any grandchildren?”
“No … no grandchildren at all.” Madeline said with soft finality before turning to Betty. “Are we still on for the Little Theater tomorrow night?”
“Absolutely.”
“Shall we meet in the lobby at seven-thirty?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Madeline smiled kindly at Shannon. “It was good to meet you. Betty talks about you all the time.”
“She seems really nice,” Shannon observed when they were again alone.
“Yes, she’s an amazing lady. Her husband and three children were killed when their private plane crashed about fourteen years ago.”
Shannon gasped, “That’s awful.”
“I first met her at a bridge party right after Hugh died. We were both lonely. We became friendly at the time, but then lost touch.”
“You said she works here.”
“Yes, I ran into her when I started my volunteer work here last winter. She’d gone back to school to train to be a counselor. We’ve renewed our friendship.”
“School? But she’s old.” Shannon clamped her hand over her mouth, embarrassed.
“Goodness, your brain doesn’t dry up with age,” Grandmother teased. “She works for a new hospital program for people who are terminally ill. She helps the patient and families cope with their feelings.”
Shannon grimaced slightly. “Well, I guess someone has to do it.”
“I’m sure she’s quite good. It’s been encouraging to see how she’s managed to overcome such tragedy in her own life and help others.” Grandmother looked at her watch. “I’ve got a meeting with several board members in five minutes. Shall I call a taxi for you?”
“I’m supposed to wait in the lobby for Mom. She’s picking me up in fifteen minutes.” At the doorway, Shannon hugged her grandmother. “Thanks for lunch.”
“Thanks for coming. It was good to spend time with you, dear. I feel better knowing you’re going to the Nashville horse show with your father. I know watching you perform will make him happy.”
Shannon made her way back down the hall toward the elevator. She rode up to the lobby and chose a seat near the door so that she’d see her mother the moment she pulled into the circular driveway.
She saw her grandmother’s friend, Madeline, pushing a patient in a wheelchair and waved. She thought about Madeline’s loss. It gave her the creeps, and made her shiver. She stepped outside into the warm sunlight to wait for her mom. For some reason, the hospital had left her cold.
Shannon couldn’t find stamps for the Pony Club newsletter anywhere. She’d promised her mom she’d ride Black up to the post office on Lookout Mountain that afternoon to mail them.
She decided to look in her father’s desk in his study. Shannon knocked on the closed door, when no one answered, she entered, She’d never liked this room. It was dark and somber with walls painted deep hunter green and the furniture and woodwork stained a dark brown. These days, her father kept the blinds and curtain closed around the clock. By comparison, the rest of the house was light and airy. “I like it this way,” her father explained. “It’s my cocoon. It makes me feel comfortable and safe.”
She flipped on the light. The room looked neat and orderly, more so than she could ever remember. The pillows were carefully arranged on the navy-blue leather sofa, the bookshelves were organized and tidy with every book erect. The usual clutter of horse and riding magazines were stacked in magazine file holders. She wondered if her mother had sneaked in and cleaned up the place, but couldn’t imagine why. The room was Dad’s, and he hated to have anybody mess around with it.
Shannon went to the desk. Documents were neatly stacked. There were several insurance policies and a file dated for last year’s tax return. Careful not to disturb the papers, she opened the top drawer and rummaged for a roll of stamps. She spied a note in her father’s handwriting. It appeared scrawled, not neat and steady like his usual penmanship. A sense of guilt made her glance about the room. She was alone. She lifted the note and read,
I wish I could give my feelings away for just a day to someone else. But then that person would know how lonely I feel and that wouldn’t be fair. I can’t tell Kathleen and Shannon must be spared. Dear God, I wish I could crawl out of my skin for only a day and be free. Please, please, let me be free.
Shannon felt chilling goose bumps all over. She reread the note. Was her daddy lonely? Didn’t she and Mom make him happy? What did he want to be freed from? She considered taking the note and showing it to her mother, but just as quickly rejected the idea. “That’s what you get for snooping, Shannon Campbell,” she said to herself. Who knows how long that note has been lying in that drawer? Or what its purpose was?
Shannon grabbed the stamps and slammed the drawer shut. She refused to think about the dumb note. Her father had probably forgotten he’d even written it. She took a deep breath to calm down, then crossed the room, turned off the light, and retreated into the sunlight in the kitchen.
Chapter Eight
“What do you mean you’re not coming with us? You always go with us! Daddy, you’ve got to come.” Shannon stood in the kitchen confronting her father.
Her mother put her hand on Shannon’s shoulder to quiet her. “Paul, we’re leaving for Nashville at six tomorrow morning, and you’re just now mentioning that you don’t want to come? Why didn’t you say something earlier in the week?”
“Don’t act like it’s the end of the world.” Paul Campbell’s voice sounded conciliatory.
“But Daddy!” Shannon cried.
“Sweetheart, I have things I have to do. I can’t get away for the whole day tomorrow.”
“What things?” his wife a
sked. “You said all the bookwork was caught up.”
“Things are in order, but not finished.”
Shannon felt utterly confused. For the past week her father had been frenetically active. He’d cleaned out his file drawers, organized closets, fixed the broken steps on the back porch deck, replaced the rotted split rails in the fence across the front of their property, and helped Zack repair the lawn tractor so that he could mow the western pastures. He’d eaten supper with them every night and even watched TV with Shannon several evenings. He seemed more happy and content than he had in months. So much so that Shannon had been convinced that his depressed mood had passed, just as her mother had told her it would. But now, to announce that he wasn’t going to the meet when she’d been counting on him to be there was an unwelcome surprise. “What if Black gives me problems?” she asked.
“He won’t. He’s a fine horse and you’re an excellent horsewoman. Besides, your mother will be there with you.”
Shannon fell silent, out of arguments. Her mother still pleaded. “I really don’t understand, Paul. You know how much we count on your being there. I’ve got five girls participating in this show and I need your help.”
“You’re a strong, fine, capable woman, Kathleen. You don’t need me.”
Shannon’s mother released a heavy sigh. “It’s obvious we aren’t going to change your mind tonight. It’s late and we’ve got to get up at five in order to roll by six. Let’s sleep on it and maybe tomorrow you’ll change your mind.”
“No, I can’t come. But I’ll help you load Black in the van. And I’ll make you a thermos of coffee, with a pinch of cinnamon the way you like it.”
“All right,” his wife replied. “We won’t make you come this time, but next time—”
“I’ll be going. Next time will be different.”