The Year I Left Read online

  “He has cancer,” Jack said as he slid out of the driver’s seat.

  “He has what?”

  “It’s bad, Car,” he said. “Doctor Toni says the cancer has spread to his lungs—that’s why he can hardly breathe. He’s had a tumor all along.”

  Brutus jumped down and stood at my feet. I knelt to hold him. “When can he have surgery? Did you try to schedule it for today?”

  “We can’t.”

  “Tomorrow, then. I’ll take the day off.” I walked toward the front door. “Come on, Buts.”

  “Carin!” he called to me.

  “What?”

  Jack caught up with me and led me to the stoop by the entrance. “He’s not going to get better.”

  “We can afford to find someone who can fix him. He’s part of our family. Money’s no object, Jack.”

  He took my hands and tugged at them. “There’s nothing they can do. Listen to me! Dr. Toni said that the most humane thing we can do is to put him down. Today. He’s in a lot of pain.”

  “Put him down,” I repeated. “Put him down. Just like that.” I covered my face with my hands. “Just like fucking that.”

  Jack kept his gaze on the ground, his shoulders stooped in defeat.

  “Say something,” I challenged him. “Take charge. For once, tell me it’s going to be okay. That you’ll fix this. Fix this, Jack. I’m tired of being the one who has to pull shit together!”

  “This isn’t the time for confrontation. We have to agree on the next steps before Charlie gets home.”

  “How can that be? He’s been with us for eleven years and we give up on him in one day? Dr. Toni doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about!” I squealed.

  “Your defiance isn’t going to get rid of the tumor.”

  I turned to Brutus who stood right in front of me. His right hind foot hung in the air. His belly was distended. It dragged on the ground. That was why I’d asked Jack to take him in that day. That morning, as I waited for him to come up from the deck, I noticed that his stomach had reached the ground. It was my fault. I was too selfish to see him disintegrate before my eyes. I thought it was just a part of getting old. But cancer takes a while to ravage a body. Where had I been all this time?

  “No!” I cried. “Jack, listen—I’ll take a leave to take care of him. He’s been with us since before Charlie was born. He was our first child. He’s my only friend.”

  “The way we can show him how much we love him is to let him rest,” Jack said calmly.

  “No,” I sobbed, knowing these words were futile. We were going to lose him that day. We had no choice in the matter. Which one was better? No goodbye or a planned goodbye? “When?”

  “I told the hospital I’d speak to you and then call them if we decide to follow through with it. I figured we’d wait until Charlie came home from school and allow them to spend time together. They close at six, so we should be there by five.”

  They say that an animal’s intuition is stronger than a human’s. I supposed it was because their pattern of behavior, their way of communicating with each other was based solely on instinct. Brutus was not only my best friend. He was the keeper of my secrets, the silent observer of my tears.

  I knew he knew. I knew he knew it was his last day with us.

  In the hours we spent together, he had a renewed burst of energy. Keeping close to us, but running through the yard just like when he’d been a puppy. We took many videos and pictures of him; he chased Charlie around, followed his every command. I could see him watching all of us. And as the time came closer for us to leave, he took tours of the house, walking through his favorite parts of the family room, his bed, his crate. Charlie was beside himself, crying and then laughing, giggling and then going back to crying again.

  By the time we arrived at the hospital, I thought we were all at peace with our decision. The doctor explained the process—they would take him away and insert an IV in one of his legs so that they could administer the medicine.

  Charlie kept his gaze on Brutus, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  “I just want you to know,” she said, hand on his shoulder, “that the medicine may take about a minute to work. And when their heart stops, sometimes, they don’t have time to close their eyes. Okay, Charlie?”

  Charlie turned to me in despair. “Mom!”

  And then they led Brutus away.

  The next time we saw him, we were seated on a colorful printed rug in the middle of a private room. We wanted to form a circle around him, the three of us, his family. Brutus calmly walked in a few minutes later and stopped to circle around each one of us. First, he went to Jack, and brushed his head against Jack’s chest. Then he went to Charlie and licked his face. When it came to my turn, he walked straight into my lap and laid his head on my thighs.

  But first, he looked up at me. “I’m so tired,” he said, tears in his eyes.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  He rubbed his nose against my hand. “But will you be okay?”

  I kissed his face and placed my lips by his ear. “I will be fine, I promise. Rest, my love. Go now and rest.”

  He stretched his legs out to the side and closed his eyes.

  We set our hands on him, six pairs all over his back and his chest, as the doctor injected the IV tube in his leg.

  “I’m sorry,” I lamented. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

  And that was it.

  In fifteen seconds, he was gone.

  Jack wailed, a loud keening sound I would never forget.

  Charlie shouted, “Brutus! Come back, please!”

  I sobbed as I’d never sobbed in my life. Our screams and howls could be heard from the outside. We held him for thirty minutes before we were told we had to leave.

  We knew that the loss of Brutus was more than just the loss of our pet, our friend, a member of our family. It signaled the beginning of a new time in our lives. Brutus symbolized the early years. The simple years when money had been hard, and it hadn’t mattered where we lived or what we had. When Charlie had played with boxes and worn hand-me-downs and our vacations had been car rides to the dunes instead of trips around the world. It had been a time of simple joys, of gratitude and hard work, of raising a family and a partnership rooted in adversity.

  Those days were long gone, and on that day, Brutus took with him the last thread that held our family together.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Imagine No Dragons

  We picked up his ashes a week later. None of us could bring ourselves to bury him. We kept him on the bookshelf right next to all his things.

  Jack was dealing in his own way. He immersed himself in Charlie’s activities, helping out at school as the king among the lunch moms. As for me, I worked. I worked until I was too tired to think. I worked until I passed out on the couch in my office. I took showers at the gym next door and shopped at Nordstrom for clothes and underwear to wear the following day.

  It had been three weeks since Brutus left us, and I continued to nurse my wounds in London.

  “How are the boys?” Valerie asked, handing me a bag of freshly roasted chestnuts. “Dylan’s over there getting us some spiced cider.”

  We continued to walk arm-in-arm toward the many stalls in the Christmas market. Earlier, we’d walked across the London Bridge in search of more shopping prospects and had stumbled across this instead. The air was crisp and cool, tiny Christmas lights connected each light pole from the bridge to the square. There were funnel cakes and spiced wine and many pieces of jewelry laid out on wooden, velvet-lined tables. I could have stayed there all evening if we didn’t have reservations at Nobu that night.

  “It’s been tough. We still think he’s home waiting for us at the end of the day. It’s like our whole family is in denial.”

  “Ah, that is so hard,” she said, pausing to look at me. She was different that night—calmer, more subdued. There were no plans to dance at bars or smoke cigarettes, no stilettos or skirts. Jeans and flat black boo
ts instead, her hair in a ponytail. Her eyes looked tired—dark circles had inserted themselves onto that flawless skin. “But are they okay not having you there for Thanksgiving?”

  “Charlie is having so much fun with his cousins. They’re all camped out in the basement watching a horror movie.”

  I tried to make light of it, but she wouldn’t let me. “Carin, don’t you think you should be with them after what happened a few weeks ago?”

  “Believe me I thought about it a lot. But somehow, I figured I had to save myself. I’m not well. I feel like the more I’m around Jack and Charlie, the more I’ll pull them down with me.”

  “Pull them where?”

  “Into whatever it is I’m going through,” I answered.

  We found Dylan carefully making his way through a crowd of people with his hands full, concentrating on keeping the cups from tipping over. “Here you go,” he said once we reached him. We each took a cup and found a bench.

  I noticed Valerie reaching out to him but pulling back once she caught my gaze. Dylan pulled out a napkin and wiped the edge of her mouth with it. It felt strange. Something was going on, but I was afraid to confront it.

  They watched as the phone on my lap rang incessantly. Twice I pushed the DECLINE button, and twice it rang all over again.

  “Isn’t that the new guy who started? Why aren’t you picking it up?” Valerie asked, seeming happy to deflect the attention back to me.

  “I’m on vacation,” I snapped, upset by my suspicion, not the phone call. “It can wait.” I took a swig of my mulled wine, forgetting how hot it was and how it could scald my throat. It did just that.

  “What’s going on?” Valerie asked. “Why does he keep calling?”

  “You tell me, Val,” I said. Dylan sat straight up and took her hand. “Is something going on between the two of you?”

  “Yes,” Dylan said. He had no fear in his voice. It was resolute, straightforward. “We’re in love.”

  Valerie stayed silent.

  “But she’s married,” I argued, turning to Dylan since it looked like Valerie wasn’t going to participate in this. “Is she getting a divorce?”

  “Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” Valerie finally spoke up. “Yes, I’m going to speak to my husband as soon as I get back to Paris.”

  “When did this happen?” I asked, baffled. First Brutus, now this. Where had I been? Too engrossed in myself to keep up with those I love? At that moment, I wanted to rush home to Charlie, check to make sure he was okay. I shuddered to think I might have missed something with him too. My heart ached all the more. I thought about Brutus and how much I missed him.

  “Six months,” Dylan answered.

  “Oh, my god. That’s why Val didn’t want to stay in the same room with me in San Francisco. I thought she was pissed about something!” I said, thinking back at how shady she’d been. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see this. You’re my best friend and I didn’t know.”

  “It’s fine. I know you’re going through a lot too,” she said. “I’m really happy. I love him so much.”

  “But how?” I asked, still wanting to know more. “Why only now are you deciding to tell your husband?”

  “It was just a work fling. Or at least we thought it was. Love wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “But it did.” Dylan leaned over to kiss Val’s cheek.

  I nodded and sat still, listening to the sounds around me. “Little Drummer Boy” was playing softly through the market, kids were running around us, lovers were huddled in the stalls in their boots and coats. I missed Brutus and his joy with every year’s turkey and mashed potato meal. I missed Charlie and I missed my mom. I could still hear her laughter reverberating through the house late at night.

  I missed you. I missed you, Matias. I realized then that it was you who made things bearable, it was you who made me want to go on. While I was invisible to the world, when no one saw or understood the change, the pain, the yearning. You did. All the more, I had to fight it. Because admitting this would mean I knew you were more than a friend to me.

  The truth is, I was jealous of their happiness. Val and Dylan were going to hurt people for each other. There was something so utterly brave about that. Most of us live our lives accepting what we have because we’re afraid to hurt those we love. When in reality, we’re being unfair to them. They deserve to be with someone who can love them as much as we wanted to but couldn’t. They deserve to find their happiness because we make them sad. We had fooled them into a life of lies and they deserved to live in truth; that we can’t love them the way they should be loved.

  I couldn’t help but die inside.

  After a few wordless minutes, Valerie piped up. “Can we talk about you now, Carin? We are worried about you. We just want you to be happy.”

  “I think you’re depressed,” Dylan piped in. “You’re eternally unhappy. You look sad all the time. And now we’re concerned that what happened to Brutus will push you over the edge. There’s too much loss in one year.”

  “I’m trying to cope,” I said, tossing the cup into the blue bin across from us. I was content to mask the silence with the cracking of chestnuts. I peeled them hurriedly and threw them in my mouth. My fingers turned black from the soot.

  “Here,” Valerie offered. “Give me your hands. I’ve got a wet wipe. Let me clean them.” She twisted my hand to turn my palms up.

  “No! No. It’s okay,” I said, flicking my arm upward.

  “Oh-kay,” Valerie quipped, her eyes squinted. “Talk to us then. That guy—why does he keep calling?”

  “We’re in the middle of this huge Asian deal. That’s my life right now. Work.” I smiled in a weak attempt to lighten things up.

  “That’s how it starts,” Dylan said. “Is he interested in you?”

  “No! Definitely not! Look, guys, I can’t even find myself right now. Why would I cause more problems?”

  The phone rang again. You just wouldn’t let up. I’m sure you knew I’d cave eventually. Not that night, buddy. I was too involved in choking back the tears, controlling my emotions after all the things I had realized that night.

  “It’s him again? What the—” Dylan snorted. “Do you want me to tell him to fuck off?”

  “Yeah,” I said, laughing. “You go tell him, Prince Charming.”

  And wouldn’t you know, you called again.

  “Give it to me,” Dylan said, taking the phone from my hand. He pressed the speaker button. I wondered what you would think—the bits and pieces of our evening condensed through the sounds you heard on the phone.

  “Torres, it’s Dylan Forrest.”

  “Forrest, what are you doing with Carin’s phone?”

  “She’s here with me and she doesn’t want to talk to you. Take this up at the office next week, dude. She’s on vacation.”

  He pressed the end button. In two seconds, Valerie’s phone buzzed. She brought the screen to my face. “Oh my god, it’s him!”

  I exhaled loudly, took the phone from Val, blew out a breath, and answered, “Hi.”

  “Carin, hi. I arrived back and was hoping to speak to you,” you said.

  I tried my best to suppress a smile. Something about your voice made me want to be there and not here. “Is it about work? What happened?”

  “No, I—” you stammered.

  “Then it can wait. I’ll be back in a few days. Can we talk then?”

  “I wanted to apologize about the day I left for Spain. I wanted to tell you that things changed for me after the night at the Godfrey, but—”

  “Changed how?” I turned to look at the newly outed couple across from me. They strained to listen to every word I was saying, eyes wide.

  “There’s something here, Carin,” you whispered.

  In a moment of panic, I pressed END on the phone and handed it back to Val.

  Dylan signaled for us to get going. Valerie took his hand, and I followed them.

  “Geez,” Dylan said, as he led us back up the s
tairway to cross the bridge to our waiting Uber. “He’s pretty aggressive, isn’t he?”

  “When he wants something, he wants it.” Valerie laughed. “I guess that’s what makes him successful!”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Crazy Phase

  I walked into the house on Thanksgiving Day, taking all of London’s soccer souvenirs with me. I was intent on offering them at Charlie’s feet out of remorse. A mother should never leave her family in the middle of the holiday just to watch a concert with friends.

  The house was filled with people, relatives, friends—all forty of them gathered around the large white island in our kitchen. Jack was the center of attention, regaling his audience with the story of the marlin he’d caught off the Gulf of Mexico during his October golf trip. I’d apparently missed dinner. Trish had her back turned to me while rinsing off the dishes. Something was baking in the oven. It smelled like apple pie. The ones Jack used to bake from scratch when we were newly married.

  “Carin! You’re back!” Trish exclaimed, waving her hands wildly and running over to take me in her arms. “How was the concert?”

  I hugged her back. “Hey, look at you. Love that velvet dress.”

  Jack quickly laid a tray on the counter and shuffled over.

  “Hey.” I looked around the room. Everyone was staring at me. There were his parents, his three brothers- and sisters-in-law and some people I didn’t recognize.

  “Carin, these are our new neighbors, Cheryl and Kevin. I also invited the guys from down the street. They’re all in the living room. And Mom and Dad, Eric and Jake and their families are staying until Sunday. They’re all set up in the guest bedrooms.”

  “Okay,” I said, smiling. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.”

  They all nodded at me and went right back to their own conversations. I could hear the rumbling of pins from the game room below us. This was typical. I was never around long enough to form any relationships with any of them.

  I rolled my suitcase out of the kitchen and toward the staircase. Trish followed suit, taking my coat from my arm and slinging my purse on her shoulder.