Van Bronkorst 1!

Hope Van Bronkhorst Palm Etchings He’ll be back soon, Cadence thought as his car sped out of the driveway and hooked a sharp right. He always is. Still, in times like these her hands could not bear to be idle. She found herself tracing the lines on the palms of her hands yet again. Annoyed with herself, she thrust her hands in her pockets and then pulled them out mere seconds later. Her bangs had fallen in her eyes. She raked her fingers through the curly mane and gathered the tendrils in a tight bun at the top of her head. She inhaled a shaky breath and chastised herself once more for reacting this way yet again. She’d never meant to become so attached. After what she’d endured as a child, she’d never intended to fall in love at all. With Oliver Sommers, however, she’d had no say in the matter. Enough, Cadence. You just need to do something to take your mind off of things. Her eyes settled on a small, overgrown plot of dirt near their front stoop. She observed the lines on her hands once before plunging the tips of her fingers into the cool soil plods. She tried to focus on the individual distinctions of each weed she pulled, but her thoughts always returned to him. Irritated with her preoccupation, she began to rip at the weeds while humming a tune—that is, before she remembered that it was their song. She hated the fact that he’d had to leave. Cadence, you know that he can’t help it. Helping others is his nature. Remember how he helped you? He’s pretty great, isn’t he? She was annoyed with her mind for not agreeing with her to think of him no more in this moment. May as well think of something pleasant rather than worry. Her first thought was of their first memory made, their first chance encounter. Very clever, brain. Well, go for it. Indulge yourself if you must. Cadence had squinted her eyes against the rising sun as she drove back from her third shift job. It didn’t pay much, but it was enough to sustain herself and pay for her summer lease. She had just finished the academic year, but this time she had refused to return to the place of her upbringing. This time, she would be the one to leave. “Of course this would happen,” Cadence had huffed as her gas gauge dropped to empty and her car begin to sputter. Noticing a diner up the street, she’d dug around in her center console until she’d grasped 12 dimes and a quarter, hopefully enough for a cup of coffee. Van Bronkorst 2!

She’d ordered a black coffee and had slumped down on a red-cushioned stool next to the counter. Please, God, I can’t do this anymore. She was tired of struggling on her own. Tears began to well, and she’d stiffened. No, I will most definitely not cry in public. “Excuse me, ma’am, can I actually get that coffee to go, please?” The instant the warm Styrofoam touched her fingers she backed away from the counter. Her body ran straight into a broad-shouldered man and she felt herself falling and then being grasped just inches from the ground. “Are you okay, miss?” he’d whispered. “I’m fine.” Her coffee littered the metal base of the stool on which she’d been sitting and its surrounding tiles. “Nice to meet you, Fine. I’m Oliver.” “Cadence.” She was in no mood to flirt aimlessly. She knew the end to these types of stories. “Cady, you look a bit frazzled. Please, let me buy you breakfast to make up for your spilled coffee. We can talk a bit.” Just do it, Cadence; what can it hurt? Me! Still, she was lonely and hungry, and so she’d stayed. A free breakfast, some small talk, and she’d be on her way. The conversation had continued for a year and a half. Cadence dug her fingers once more into the cool earth and clamped her hands around the roots of a weed. She thought once more of Oliver’s necessary frequent and rapid departures. He’s not like him. He’ll come back; he always does. Sure enough, he did. ! Cadence let out a murmur and then jolted as her body was hoisted into the air. “Shh, it’s alright. It’s just me.” “You’re home,” she sighed as she leaned into his chest. See, you had nothing to worry about, Cadence. “Of course. Cady, I’ll always come home.” She felt his eyes boring down on her and turned her head away uncomfortably. “Your cheeks are damp.” Van Bronkorst 3!

Whatever happened to evaporation? “Are they?” Come on, you know he’s not an idiot. He walked across the threshold of their room and set her down gently on the bed before scooting next to her. He ran his thumb across her cheeks. “Same dream?” She was so angry with herself. What is wrong with you, Cadence? Before she’d met Oliver, she could count on one hand the number of times she’d cried since her father had left; she’d never let herself before Oliver. “I feel so stupid. Seriously, it’s nothing, yet here I am, acting like a child.” “Cady, it’s not nothing, and that’s okay. His choices changed your life. Nobody expects you to behave as if it is no longer a part of your past once things start going well, especially after holding everything inside for so long.” She rolled her eyes but smiled at him still. “You should’ve been a therapist instead of a firefighter.” Cadence, stop trying to make a joke of things. You know he really cares to hear, even if it was the same dream again. She rolled over onto her back and began to trace the lines on her palms. “It’s the same story. I was staring out the picture window in our living room. I could hear my mom crying. “He’s not coming back this time,” she kept whispering. But there was a note sitting next to me in his handwriting saying he’d be back for me. I had my suitcase packed and was so happy when I saw the cab pull up. My dad walked in, looked right past me, and asked if you were ready. Then, you both left without saying goodbye.” “Oh, sweetheart. I still don’t understand how anyone could ever leave you. I know I never could.” He took her right hand in his and began to trace the lines on her palm. When he’d finished he touched the outer edge of her right hand to the inner edge of his left. He traced the heart like shape that their connected palm lines seamlessly, miraculously formed. “You flatter me, Oliver Sommers.” Was that a British lilt in my voice? Wow, well that’s embarrassing. The pair laughed, and Cadence adjusted herself so that her left ear was directly over his heartbeat. “So, did you rush off to save a kitten trapped in a tree today?” He’d admitted once that many of his days were merely spent playing cards and traveling to schools for safety demonstrations. Still, this knowledge had done little to settle her nerves each time he left, for she knew that there would always be days like today, days when his job would fit its stereotype. Van Bronkorst 4!

“But of course.” They both knew he wouldn’t tell her the truth. Wouldn’t tell her that he’d been called to a house fire with two small children or that they’d only managed to retrieve one unscathed and the other, a little girl, was now in the pediatric intensive care unit. “Are they okay?” She felt his heartbeat quicken. She hated to know how much danger he’d been in and wondered how long she could endure his lifestyle. Cadence, this isn’t just about you; you need to listen to him and care what he has to say. “No.” The man beside her swallowed hard. She breathed in a shaky breath, hating her next words, yet needing to say them. No matter the details, at least he’d be safe with her tonight. “Tell me about it.” ! Cadence sat on the floor of the living room days later as she prepared her lesson plan. She had just started her second semester of student teaching and had uncharacteristically grown attached to her students. She was cutting out strips of construction people when her phone rang. “Hello, is this Cadence Hall?” an anxious voice asked. Cadence set the scissors down and her palms began to sweat. “Yes, this is she. May I ask who’s speaking?” “This is Sean Flannery. I work with Oliver. I was calling to let you know that there’s been an incident at work, and he’s being brought over to Mercy General right now.” She swallowed deeply and her heart beat faster. “Is he okay? What happened?” Cadence, don’t overreact. Still, she found herself drawing in short, rapid breaths. As Sean began to respond the piercing blares of the firehouse alarm sounded. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’ve got to go.” His voice was frantic as the line cut out. Of course, you couldn’t just be playing cards today, she thought before racing to the counter to grab her keys. For the first time since her father had left her and her mother for good, leaving them financially stretched and always awaiting his return, she was speeding toward rather than away from someone. ! Cadence sat next to a sleeping Oliver and thanked God that her worst fears had not been confirmed. Her cheeks blushed red at the memory of her overreaction. She held his hand and startled when he squeezed hers back. “Hey, you’re up,” she whispered. Van Bronkorst 5!

He gave her a crooked smile and then winced. “Hi. Cady, what happened?” “Nothing exciting,” she joked. If she made light of the matter, then he wouldn’t have to hear the fear in her voice. “Apparently you passed out at work. You happened to fall gracefully on the corner of a table, so you were brought to the hospital for stitches. You weren’t waking up either, so that was a bit terrifying. The good news is that you aren’t concussed, so you can sleep as much as you want. You’re fine now though. The doctors just want to keep you overnight for observation. They also want to run a few tests.” Her voice shook on the last sentence. She tried to keep her reaction at bay, knowing that it was, as usual, probably exaggerated for no reason. He smiled weakly at her and squeezed her hand once more. “Well, that’s embarrassing. In fact, it’s so embarrassing that we should just pretend that it never happened and that everything is fine. Did the day’s dramatics interrupt your lesson planning?” Cadence laughed and tried to suppress her worries. “Only slightly. Next time you want me to spend time with you though, you can just say so. No need to hospitalize yourself.” “Ah, but if I were to do that, I’d deprive the children of a day filled with ingenious activities. So tell me, what Pinterest laden activities have you conjured up this week?” Taking his bait, Cadence divulged every minute detail she’d included in her plans. She stopped only when a nurse came to give Oliver pain medication for his headache. Not long after she left, the boy fell asleep. Cadence began to read silently at his bed side and would glance over every few pages to see that he was okay. The pair continued on in this way until a middle aged doctor entered the room with a clipboard in his hands. The look on his face was one she recognized. It was the one she’d felt the first time she had to tell her friends why her dad no longer drove her to rehearsals and the one she’d given when a student told her of his sick nana. It was a look of pity. As the doctor revealed Oliver’s test results and poor prognosis, the color drained from Cadence’s face. Her reaction had been warranted after all, it would appear. For a moment, tears began to form in her eyes. Then, she caught herself. Cadence, stop it. Oliver needs you right now. The doctor explained what was to come next and then left the room with a shoulder pat to Oliver and an “I’m very sorry” to the pair. Van Bronkorst 6!

Oliver was the first to speak. “Well, it looks like they won’t just be keeping me overnight.” His counterfeit smile faded, and his voice broke on the last word. “Oliver.” Cadence’s voice trembled and she hugged him tightly. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be—” Cadence interrupted him before he could continue. He needed her comfort more than she needed his. She pulled her fiancée closer and rubbed his back. Sobs racked his body as she whispered again and again, “Shh, it’s going to be alright. You’re going to be just fine. I’ll be here with you the whole time. I promise I won’t leave you.” After some time Oliver drooped wearily against the pillows. Cadence thought he had already fallen asleep when he grabbed her hand tightly. “Cady?” “Yeah?” “I promise to never leave you, either.” ! Many mornings later a siren rang out beneath the bedroom window, and Cadence shuddered. She sat on her pristine made half of the bed, and her legs hung over its edge as she faced the closet toward the east. She began to trace her palm lines. Stop doing that! She crossed and uncrossed her arms violently before removing her hands entirely from sight by sitting on them. She turned away from the closet and toward the bed’s unkempt side. “Good morning,” she whispered to Oliver. No answer came from the man. She looked at her side of the bed’s neat perfection before collapsing once more upon it. She rolled over to face his side, reached out a hand, and then pulled it abruptly back to her chest. “I can’t believe this day is finally here. It sure isn’t how we expected it to be, now is it?” Again, no answer came from him. She grasped the ring on her left hand between her right thumb and middle finger and began to twist it. Enough with the hands, Cadence! Still, she reached out a hand toward his side once more, doing her best to bridge the gap. “I’m supposed to get my hair and makeup done at nine. The pastor called, too. I have to be at the church at eleven; I’ll see you there.” Van Bronkorst 7!

His silence rung out yet again. She looked to Oliver’s empty tousled side of the bed once more. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.” She wanted nothing more than to cry as she once had been able to with Oliver. Cadence heaved herself off of the bed and walked toward the closet, stepping over a pile of clothes on the way. An invitation embellished with a lime green trim sat propped against a picture of the pair. She passed by it. She paused, inhaled sharply, and turned back toward the captured memory. Her fingers traced the edges of the photo as she smiled once at it, and then at the not yet made side of the bed. Two letters in different scripts were propped up on her nightstand and beneath them a pile of medical bills lay. “I got my dad’s letter in the mail today. Why would you do that? He said you wrote right after the tests came back. Never mind, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” You always did try to fix everything. I didn’t want you to be alone, Cady. “We didn’t invite him to the wedding, but he said you said he should come today anyways. I really don’t think I’m ready to see him yet.” Cadence pivoted sharply away from the picture and continued on her way toward the closet. Her hands shook as she opened the door and gazed at the white lace and taffeta gown. Reaching in, she pushed it to the left and retrieved the black dress with tags still intact. The end hadn’t come from work like she’d feared. An illness, a cruel twist of irony, instead had broken the connected palm lines. Cadence traced her palms once more, this time tears filling their crevices. An overwhelming sense of pressure built in her chest and her lips pursed tightly. Her breathing quickened and she glared at the dress. Her hands held it so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Here, in this broken room, hung a wrinkle free, carefully hung mass of black fabric. The words finally broke free from her lips and the state of numbness to which she had returned. “You Van Bronkorst 8! promised you’d never leave me!” The dress and hanger flew through the air before crashing into the stack of papers next to the bed they’d once shared. She slid down the wall next to the closet, her hands tangled in the roots of her hair and her body wracking with sobs. She gasped, trying to catch the air she so desperately needed to breathe. The letter with its familiar title had fallen next to her. “When I’m Gone,” the outside of the envelope read. She could no longer deny its existence. Her hands shook and her breathing quickened as she did her best to neatly break her seal. She brought the folded paper close to her heart and let out a loud sob before unfolding it. Cady, I am so sorry this happened to you, to us. I know you’re mad at me for writing your dad, but everyone needs a second chance. Your mom called and told me he’s been calling for you for months. I don’t want you to let your heart be broken again, but we both know what happens when we live in fear—half the time what we fear doesn’t end up being the cause of our troubles. We know that too well, don’t we? It’s up to you, but I’ll hope you’ll at least consider answering his call just once. I gave him our address in case he wanted to write. At that Cadence stopped reading. “I’m sorry,” Cadence whispered to Oliver as she shook her head. In that moment, she had not the room to mourn the loss of more than one being. ! ! ! ! !