Pat and Marianne

Pat, please forgive me. During my time with you these past couple of weeks I have come to realize how much I love you and need you. I hope you feel the same. I fear that my daughter has destroyed everything I have hoped and prayed for. That you see me as an unreliable partner for you. I know that I can never live up to the standard that Terri set, but I hope you can come to love me again like you did so long ago.

I realize that you probably feel like I abandoned you again. Please know that I would never intentionally do that. I beg your forgiveness. Please give me one more chance. I will not go gently into that good night. I plan to fight for our love with every fiber of my being. To fight to get you back if it kills me.

All my love,

Marianne

It is hard to describe the emotions that began to rage in my mind. Pity and worry for Marianne. Love for a wonderful, caring woman. Anger at my selfishness and stupid, rash decisions. Fury at not managing my technology properly. I was reminded of one of my granddaughter's favorite terms -- stupid head. I had been a real stupid head.

I immediately began to pack the handcart for the return trip. I realized it was too late in the day to get a start, so it would have to be tomorrow. Trying to make it to town in the dark was too risky.

The pilot in me sensed that I should check the weather. I took my hand crank radio to the top of the hill. Snow was scheduled to start tomorrow afternoon. I was surprised to have snow in early October, but I needed to plan accordingly. If I left at the crack of dawn, I should be able to make it to Carrabassett by early afternoon, hopefully before the snow flew.

_ _ _ _ _

I awoke before dawn and started off. Although the sky began to lighten, the clouds were low and ominous. Having just made this trip two days before, my muscles quickly began to ache. Flurries started around nine and by ten I was in a full snowstorm. I just prayed that the path wouldn't be obscured. By eleven I was making very slow progress and I began to consider stopping to set up a shelter. I began to look for a suitable location, hoping to find some firs to thatch a roof.

Almost as soon I began to consider that, I heard a shout. Peering through the snow I could make out two figures moving toward me. As they approached, I saw that one was my son Dan.

Dan trudged up to me through the snow and hugged me, "Dad I've got to tell you. You scared the shit out of us these past couple of weeks. I'm glad you're okay."

"I hate to break it to you, but being in the Maine woods in the middle of a snowstorm is not okay. Who's your friend?"

"Oh, sorry Dad. This is Patrick Huddleston."

Patrick said, "Pleased to meet you Captain."

He extended his hand, but I hugged him instead. "No doubt about it. You're Marianne's son. If you call me Captain again, I'll have to kick your ass."

"What shall I call you?"

"Pat's fine."

"My mother may have trouble with that."

"I don't care."

Dan chimed in, "Let's get moving."

We had at least five inches of snow already and I figured we had another two hours of walking under normal conditions. With this much snow, it would be five or six hours.

I shook my head, "I don't think that's too smart. We need to hunker down."

Dan looked at me like I was crazy, "Where? How?"

"We need to find some fir trees."

Patrick said, "There's a thicket a couple of hundred yards behind us."

"Then let's get moving."

When we found the firs I pointed to some high ground about twenty yards away. "We can make a shelter over there."

We pulled the handcart over.

I dug out a hand axe and handed it to Patrick. "I want as many boughs as you can reach. We'll use them to thatch a roof. Dan, take this axe. I want a dozen or so small trees. No more than two inches in diameter. Try to find them as straight as possible. Strip off the branches."

"Aye aye sir."

Military training had taken over. I dug out some twine from my containers. Dan had brought back the first piece of framing and I lashed it to a tree. In no time we had a framework up. With teamwork we tied the fir boughs to the framework and had a roof. I enclosed in the sides. A few more boughs on the floor of the shelter and we had a cozy, but cold place out of the snow.

We were going to need a fire. "I need you two to find some dry kindling. Perhaps some grass. Small dry twigs. Anything easily burned. Dig under the snow. Keep it dry."

Patrick asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Get something big to burn."

I found a dead tree about five inches in diameter and quickly felled it. I made short work of the dry wood and soon had a pile of logs. Dan came over and helped carry them back. Patrick already had a small fire going. We added a few logs and soon we had a nice heat source.

The snow was falling much harder now and there was probably at least eight inches on the ground.

Dan slapped my back, "Gotta say Dad. Stopping was a good call. Where'd you learn to build a shelter like this?"

"Winter Survival School in these woods, back when I first earned my wings."

Patrick said, "Well it finally came in handy."

I melted some water in a pot and soon had some noodles cooked. I figure we would need the carbs. Darkness started to settle in. We had some time to kill.

The next task was changing our socks. Keeping your feet dry is critical to staying warm. I had enough for the three of us to change them three more times. If we were out there longer we'd find a way to dry them.

I opened the conversation, "So who wants to bring me up to speed? I received your mother's letter Patrick."

Patrick said, "I don't know what she wrote so let me start at the beginning. After you left, my mother and Maria had a long argument. When Mom took a break, Maria got ahold of her phone. My mother hasn't changed the security code in years. It's your birth date if you ever want to know. Maria tried to sabotage the relationship you have with my mother. She damn near succeeded. By the way, I whole-heartedly approve of your relationship with her."

I said, "Thank you for your blessing."

Patrick laughed, "Mom went into a full panic attack. I had just gotten back from Rosy Roads. She called me and asked me to help find you. Your neighbor had told her that you went off to the Maine woods. I looked up Dan. Thank God he wasn't at sea. He immediately flew from San Diego to Jax."

I gave Dan a playful punch in the shoulder. "That was mighty nice of you."

"Hey. Gotta watch out for dear ol' Dad."

Patrick continued, "I decided we needed to set Maria straight. Just so you know, her and my Mom have been butting heads for years. My father poisoned the water as often as possible. According to Mom, he found out that I was named after you when I was about ten. He started saying that she was having an affair with you. Maria bought in hook, line, and sinker. Loved saying Mom had a boyfriend."

Dan chimed in, "I'm getting ahead of the story, but I helped Mrs. Huddleston confirm that we didn't live anywhere near where they lived. We were in Atsugi when they were in Berlin. We were in Pax River when they were in Beijing. Stuff like that. That helped Maria realize what was happening with her father."

Patrick took up the thread, "Mom dug out an old manuscript that she had written years ago detailing my father's infidelities. She had documented her story with pictures, receipts, security records, and even some stills from security cameras. The bottom line: my father was a shit.

"She made Maria read it while she sat there and waited. Mom kept making notes, because there was obviously a lot more she had to say.

"When Maria was done reading I could tell her attitude had changed. Mom started telling us about the mental and physical abuse she endured. She had a report from her colonoscopy documenting all the scar tissue that my father's sexual assaults caused.

"Maria made a snide remark something to the effect of 'Where does this Captain Sullivan come in.'"

Dan took up the story, "I learned so many things about you. I didn't know you were a lifeguard."

I smiled, "Yeah, for a couple of summers. Probably where I got all this melanoma from. I got to go in and have this cheek chopped up in a couple of weeks."

Dan nodded. "Yes. We saw the doctor's report on your table. Mrs. Huddleston is having a stroke about that."

Patrick looked at Dan, "My Mom is going to give you shit about calling her that."

I tried to get them back on track, "So anyway."

Patrick continued, "Mom told us about how you grew up together, then were separated, and finally reunited for a week when you were in college. She told us about our grandmother and her relationship there. Finally, she told us how she found you on Facebook this past summer and how you were reunited. I thought it was a very romantic tale. Maria grudgingly accepted it."

I asked, "So what brings you two here?"

Dan threw a stick on the fire, "We flew up to Vermont a week ago. Mark and Rita let us into your house. You must have taken your address book with you because we couldn't find it. Therefore, we couldn't find where you went. I hope you don't mind, but we dug through everything. We finally found a box of old Christmas cards in the attic and that's how we found Pete. That was Friday."

There was an interesting concept. I'd forgotten what day of the week it was. "What's today?"

Patrick said, "Sunday. We got here yesterday."

Dan said, "We stayed with Pete last night. We stayed up late listening to sea stories about you."

I laughed, "All lies."

We spent the rest of the evening catching up. Patrick told us stories about living in various embassies around the world. I found out that they were friends at the Academy, but they never knew there was a deeper connection. They played intermural sports together and Patrick helped Dan with 'Bull' courses. I found out that those were humanities courses. In turn, Dan had helped Patrick with some of the engineering courses that everyone was required to take.

Eventually we called it a night. Another change of socks. We set a two hour watch to keep the fire going. I took the first one. Sitting there I reflected on how once again my life had changed. This time for the better.

Morning dawned clear and cold. We had a breakfast of rice. As we packed up the handcart I heard a motor approaching.

There was Pete on a snowmobile. He was older and greyer, sporting a white beard. It was good seeing the old rascal. His snowmobile had a sled hitched up to the back. I got on behind Pete. Dan and Patrick sat on the sled holding on to the cart. Thirty minutes later we were at his car. Another thirty minutes and we were at his place.

I no sooner had gotten out of Pete's SUV and there was Marianne.

She threw herself at me and began sobbing, "Oh, Pat! I'm so sorry! Please forgive me! Please!"

I held her and buried my face into her hair, "Please forgive me. Forgive me for not believing in you. For doubting you."

When I released Marianne I turned to our sons. "You could have at least told me she was here."

Dan smiled, "We wanted to surprise you."

_ _ _ _ _

We drove back to Vermont the next day. No snow had fallen there, just rain.

The next afternoon was glorious. Although the foliage was slightly past peak, it was still a lovely day. I asked Marianne if she would like to go for a walk through my woods. She readily accepted. The ground was covered with leaves, but there was still a substantial amount on the trees. Marianne reveled in the colors. The maples were as beautiful as they get -- reds and oranges; yellows from beech and birch. Even the boring brown of the oaks added a nice contrast. The sun was slanting through, dappling everything with golden light. Throw in the green of the firs and you knew Mother Nature was having fun with her paint palette. This exquisite afternoon was ours as we strolled along hand-in-hand through a picture postcard. We came to the crest of a ridge that looked out on the spine of the Green Mountains. It was my favorite spot on my land. The scene there was always different, always changing.

As we gazed out on the mountains, I broke the silence. "Can I ask you a question?"

Marianne turned to me, "Sure."

I took both her hands in mine, "How would you feel about spending the rest of your life with me?"

Her mouth dropped open.

I continued, "I suppose what I asking is: Will you marry me?"

The force of the hug made me step back to keep my balance. I held her tight, but she didn't say anything. We must have stood there holding one another for at least a minute.

I decided some levity might elicit an answer, "If you want to think about it."

She leaned back, tears were streaming down her face, "Oh, Patrick! Yes! A thousand times yes!"

Marianne threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with as much passion as I have ever felt.

When she eased the kiss, I reached into my pocket. "I think of Terri looking down on us. This is temporary. I'll get you a ring of your own, but in the meantime, I think she would want you to wear this."

I took her hand and slid Terri's engagement ring on Marianne's finger. "I love you Marianne."

"I love you too Patrick."