Read Online Pathways (9780307822208) by Lisa T. Bergren - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lisa T. Bergren
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time she was alone. She wasn’t sure what she was going for, what she wanted from her visit; she only knew she was supposed to come. That it was
right
to come.
She considered that it might be a pathetic attempt to feel closer to her father—conspicuously absent for her fifth visit to the lake—but then put the thought out of her mind. It’s what her therapist would say.
“You sure you’ll be all right up there alone, Bryn Bear?” Grampa Bruce asked her as they walked toward the gate in the airport terminal in Boston. She took a step away at his use of her father’s nickname for her. She studied him, but he walked along as if he had said nothing unusual at all. He was aging quickly. Since when had his shoulders slumped so severely? And his step had lost its spring and become more of a shuffle. She hadn’t spent nearly enough time with him since she’d come to Massachusetts, she realized with regret.
She blew out a quick breath and ran a tender hand over her grandfather’s shoulders. “I’ll be fine, Grampa. Will you?” Thinking of him alone, with no other family nearby, she worried about him. Bryn’s grandmother had passed away over a decade earlier. She knew he still missed her, and yet after her death he had charged forward,embracing his life and making the most of it. He was the darling of his neighborhood, making friends with the old and the young alike.
“Ah, I’m always fine. You’ll rest there, then? In Alaska? You’ve gotten no sleep at Harvard. Your grandmother worries after you.” There it was again, evidence that his mind was slipping away.
“I’ll get rest there.” She bent and kissed him on his leathery cheek, all wrinkles and sagging skin. “It’s so quiet on Summit, I won’t be able to sleep the first night. Then I’ll sleep like the dead.”
“I’d still feel better about it if your father was going. You’ve never been there alone.”
“I’ll be fine, Grampa. Dad has his new life. I’m going to go and discover what I’m supposed to do with mine.”
Grampa Bruce placed one hand on top of his cane and then the other hand on top of that. “You going there alone to punish him, child?” His brow furrowed.
“No. I’m going there for me. I can’t explain it. I just know I’m supposed to be there. I guess it’s Dad’s fault. He was the one who insisted I go every five years. Now I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”
“Or your heart. Maybe it’s God who is calling you there, Bryn. Have you thought of that?”
“No,” she answered simply. Grampa Bruce always required total honesty. He could see through people as clearly as the airport x-ray machines had examined her bags. “I think I just know that it is the one place I can go where I can find some sort of peace.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, his brown eyes studying her. The lids sagged at the corners, showing red, tender inner flesh. His irises were a bit cloudy, but his intent was clear. “Peace,” he nodded. “See if you can find the Source of peace.”
Bryn gave him a wise look. “There you go, Grampa Bruce. Always trying to evangelize me.”
“Just be open. Promise me that.”
“I will, Grampa.” She bent and kissed him again and, with a last farewell smile, turned and handed her ticket to the gate agent. She took a long, deep breath and entered the Jetway. Medical school had chewed her up and spit her out. She simply could not face anything else without a break, a total break. And Summit Lake was about as far from Harvard as she could get.
As she rode in the taxicab up the highway from Anchorage, through the awe-inspiring Matanuska Valley—wide and flat for miles and banked by towering green blue snowcapped mountains—into the heavily forested hills of the Susitna, with gasp-worthy peaks, she took a long, deep breath. She found more reassurance and peace in this place than she ever could in Newport Beach. Particularly when her mother was in the throes of despair and looking for a constant
right
to come.
She considered that it might be a pathetic attempt to feel closer to her father—conspicuously absent for her fifth visit to the lake—but then put the thought out of her mind. It’s what her therapist would say.
“You sure you’ll be all right up there alone, Bryn Bear?” Grampa Bruce asked her as they walked toward the gate in the airport terminal in Boston. She took a step away at his use of her father’s nickname for her. She studied him, but he walked along as if he had said nothing unusual at all. He was aging quickly. Since when had his shoulders slumped so severely? And his step had lost its spring and become more of a shuffle. She hadn’t spent nearly enough time with him since she’d come to Massachusetts, she realized with regret.
She blew out a quick breath and ran a tender hand over her grandfather’s shoulders. “I’ll be fine, Grampa. Will you?” Thinking of him alone, with no other family nearby, she worried about him. Bryn’s grandmother had passed away over a decade earlier. She knew he still missed her, and yet after her death he had charged forward,embracing his life and making the most of it. He was the darling of his neighborhood, making friends with the old and the young alike.
“Ah, I’m always fine. You’ll rest there, then? In Alaska? You’ve gotten no sleep at Harvard. Your grandmother worries after you.” There it was again, evidence that his mind was slipping away.
“I’ll get rest there.” She bent and kissed him on his leathery cheek, all wrinkles and sagging skin. “It’s so quiet on Summit, I won’t be able to sleep the first night. Then I’ll sleep like the dead.”
“I’d still feel better about it if your father was going. You’ve never been there alone.”
“I’ll be fine, Grampa. Dad has his new life. I’m going to go and discover what I’m supposed to do with mine.”
Grampa Bruce placed one hand on top of his cane and then the other hand on top of that. “You going there alone to punish him, child?” His brow furrowed.
“No. I’m going there for me. I can’t explain it. I just know I’m supposed to be there. I guess it’s Dad’s fault. He was the one who insisted I go every five years. Now I can’t seem to get it out of my head.”
“Or your heart. Maybe it’s God who is calling you there, Bryn. Have you thought of that?”
“No,” she answered simply. Grampa Bruce always required total honesty. He could see through people as clearly as the airport x-ray machines had examined her bags. “I think I just know that it is the one place I can go where I can find some sort of peace.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, his brown eyes studying her. The lids sagged at the corners, showing red, tender inner flesh. His irises were a bit cloudy, but his intent was clear. “Peace,” he nodded. “See if you can find the Source of peace.”
Bryn gave him a wise look. “There you go, Grampa Bruce. Always trying to evangelize me.”
“Just be open. Promise me that.”
“I will, Grampa.” She bent and kissed him again and, with a last farewell smile, turned and handed her ticket to the gate agent. She took a long, deep breath and entered the Jetway. Medical school had chewed her up and spit her out. She simply could not face anything else without a break, a total break. And Summit Lake was about as far from Harvard as she could get.
As she rode in the taxicab up the highway from Anchorage, through the awe-inspiring Matanuska Valley—wide and flat for miles and banked by towering green blue snowcapped mountains—into the heavily forested hills of the Susitna, with gasp-worthy peaks, she took a long, deep breath. She found more reassurance and peace in this place than she ever could in Newport Beach. Particularly when her mother was in the throes of despair and looking for a constant
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