Part 4: 4 - The Offer
A meeting in Edinburgh
Things That Can’t Be Broken is a novel presented as a live draft, one chapter every week.
Nine-year-old Dani makes a fervent promise that there will always be horses in her life, so when she finds out her next-door neighbor won a scholarship to an exclusive horsemanship program, she vows to win one too. She never gets the chance—but her short life has a lasting effect on a community.
Last week: Part 4: 3 - Hello Ammy • 2022, Tim Cartwright has a new friend
Part 4 | This Storm is Called Progress
4 - The Offer
Tim Cartwright
June 11, 2022
Amsterdam, Netherlands
Tim wasn’t on that plane to London. He couldn’t fly with an eight-week-old pup. He couldn’t even leave Holland until after the first week of June when he had proof Amsterdam had all her shots.
When he called again the next morning to tell Regina why he wasn’t on the flight, she actually answered, “Tim! I was trying to get a hold of you. I got your message that you missed your flight. Did you need it rebooked?”
Tim’s heart had done a back flip, but he stood his ground. “I’m calling to let you know. I’m not leaving Amsterdam.”
“Oh, why is that?” The tone of her disappointment was akin to I told you so, and Tim thought of Lisa’s words of warning in a new light.
“I’m surprised you don’t know. Your staff is very good at keeping a secret.” Tim’s heart begged him to say: You’re welcome to come here to see me. I would love for you to meet my new friend. But instead, he said, “I adopted a puppy.”
“A puppy!” She laughed. “That’s wonderful. This is not how I expected this conversation to go at all. When can you come to London?”
But he couldn’t leave, and she wasn’t willing to meet him there. That said a lot. He stayed on another week at the Bradwyn, but it began to feel more and more wrong.
In the end, Regina got what she wanted. She proved herself right. Here it was, June 11 again and he had lost interest in her. She called him a “gamophobe”, said “it wasn’t his fault”. It wasn’t. But she also apologized for taking him away from his life and work.
All told, Tim was grateful to Regina for giving him back to himself. Walking away from the Bradwyn, he had never felt so free in his entire life. The world was opened up to him as it never had been before. It was always full of lucrative possibilities and those still existed, but it was also full of treasures that he had lost along the way, paths that would not lead to any monetary or career-enhancing goals, but only to moments connecting with life and other beings.
He started training Ammy to the leash at nine weeks. It was his full-time job, and just four weeks later, she had it down. He took Ammy everywhere and saw things in new ways. The architecture stopped looking so important. The list of things to see blew away in the wind. Wherever he and Ammy went together, he could not keep the thought from his mind—holding Ammy’s leash felt like holding his daughter’s hand.
She showed him things he would not have noticed. She jumped at the kites as they lifted in the park, and his heart lurched into memories. Her friendly nature started conversations with strangers he would never have met, which further reminded him of his outgoing little girl. And of course, Ammy loved horses. They never frightened her. She always came to them with play in mind. Every horse or horsey smell caused the pup excitement. She sniffed out horse-cart drivers and horse trainers at every turn, with or without their equine counterparts.
This furry child. She let him see the world with her innocence and zeal. Nothing was held back. Above all, he felt forgiven. Maybe that’s what it was. She offered nothing less than redemption with a golden flag flying at the end of a wagging tail. He had this dog’s short lifetime and a pile of savings with which to make things happen. It wasn’t too late to spoil this girl.
Maeve Allen
August 11, 2022
Edinburgh, Scotland
When Maeve unlatched the back gate to let herself, Todd, and Molly out to the park for their late afternoon walk, it felt different. The weight of the small metal latch, the clink of it shutting behind them was noticeable, poignant somehow. She wondered if the passage felt different to Todd as well.
He had been losing weight and had less energy in the last few months. He didn’t mention it, but she had felt the slight fever in his hands when they touched. It was never easy to get him to make an appointment, but eventually, he had done so. They had lived in a strange sort of limbo for the last few years since he was diagnosed with Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia. And yesterday his doctor had told them it was time to start treatment. There had been no urgency. The cancer was slow and there was nothing to do but wait until the symptoms worsened. In fact, starting treatment too soon could actually shorten his life.
He could live ten or more years with few symptoms. But the knowledge that Todd had come to the next stage of the cancer less than three years since his diagnosis felt ominous. As Todd put it, “We all ken we’re going to leave this life, but nae many of us how. It’s hard to accept when the cause announces itself with a capitol ‘C’.”
She was able to forget about his illness most of the time, though she was adamant they take all precautions during the COVID pandemic, as infection was the most common cause of death from this type of leukemia. Despite their precautions, including frequent handwashing, she and Todd finally did catch the virus this past January. It was terribly worrisome. They both made it through seemingly unscathed, but the cancer continued its progression.
What caused it? He had not been exposed to a lot of radiation or chemicals. Chronic stress was said to be a possible cause but isn’t that what they said about anything when they didn’t know? Life in general probably causes cancer. Yet a picture of Dani Cartwright never failed to pop into her mind when she thought about her husband’s chronic cancer.
Molly bounded out into the green grass, reminding Maeve to enjoy the beautiful sunny afternoon. The portly chocolate lab turned expectantly, watching for the bright yellow tennis ball in Todd’s raised hand. As they walked, he threw. She ran and leaped. She jogged back. He threw again.
“Are you going to tell Caleb now?” Maeve asked her husband.
“Och, no. The lad’s in the middle of his music tour.”
“I think he should know.”
“Aye. I hear ye, mo ghràdh. But I do’nae see a reason to rush. I’m nae going anywhere soon.”
“You don’t know that. And he still thinks you disapprove. . .”
“Dinnae you say he plans to visit in October? . . . And I do’nae disapprove of my son. He’s a good man with a good heart, and a dedicated worker like his mam. I think what he’s doing is foolish for his career. But let him finish his tour. A month without worry for him will’nae make a difference for us. He’s already put off this tour for two years. I will’nae be the cause of another setback. The sooner he gets done with the music, the sooner he can get back into finance and have a stable life ahead of him.”
“A stable life. . . I’m not sure it will work out the way you’re thinking,” said Maeve, knocking a small rock from the path with the end of her cane.
Maeve had nearly told Caleb about his father’s illness so many times. She wished she had just called him the day they first found out. But they had both hesitated. Caleb was recording his first album and preparing for his first tour at that time. They didn’t want to rule him by guilt and force him to drop everything and visit. He had to follow his passion. If anyone understood that, she did, and so should Todd.
When the pandemic caused the tour to be canceled, they should have told him then, but neither of them wanted to bring it up during their isolation. Nothing felt real during the shutdown. The hidden threat. There was enough for them to worry about. Caleb would have been beside himself and unable to visit. So, the months had stretched into years and they still hadn’t told Caleb.
“Okay,” she said. “But the day after the tour ends, if you don’t tell him, I will. No more putting it off.”
“Aye. Ye have a deal,” said Todd, lobbing yet another ball for Molly.
From nowhere, an overzealous golden retriever plowed into the galloping lab. Upon impact with the solid Molly, the young dog tumbled paws in the air. Molly was a targeted cannonball undiverted from her quarry by the other dog’s spill. With the ball securely wedged between her teeth, she jogged back unfazed. The retriever, no more than a large gangly pup, continued chasing after her, bouncing and nipping at Molly’s shoulder. Molly turned her head to growl and lunge at the pest, but of course she never let go of that ball until it met Todd’s hand.
“Aye, an’ who do we have here?” Todd said, giving the retriever a good scrub on the shoulders while Molly looked on impatiently at the ball in his other hand.
A tall, neatly-dressed older man strode over, shaking his head, but smiling. He said, “I’m so sorry,” to Todd and Maeve. Then he turned to the pup, saying, “Ammy, you big dork,” as he snapped on the leash.
“Och, ye cannae expect a pup nae to play. No harm done,” said Todd. He threw the ball again and wiped his hand on his jeans before stretching it out to the man, “Todd Allen, if ye do’nae mind the slobber.”
The man laughed and grasped Todd’s hand firmly, saying, “Tim Cartwright.” He then turned to Maeve with a wide-open grin as if he had just met a celebrity.
Maeve stiffened, placing the name. But it couldn’t be the same Tim Cartwright. Although there was certainly a resemblance to the father of little Dani Cartwright from all those years back.
Lisa Cartwright
August 12, 2022
La Mesa, California
“Tim. It’s a few days early for a call from you. What’s up? Where are you?”
“I’m in Edinburgh,” Tim said.
“Edinburgh? I don’t remember you mentioning Edinburgh on your itinerary. I’m guessing you passed the test?” Lisa asked.
“Actually, I’m on my own. Sort of.”
“Oh?” Lisa waited, hoping to avoid back-pedaling if her assumptions were wrong.
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you everything, but I want to ask you something first. I want you to really listen before you reply.”
“Well, okay,” said Lisa. The muscles in her arm tensed as she held her phone. “I’m here. Shoot.”
“Remember last time we talked, back in March?”
“I do.” Lisa sat down on the couch and looked out the front window.
“You were telling me you had imagined the lives of people like our neighbor, Barb, and others whose lives were affected by Dani’s death. You said if you could find out their real stories, maybe you could do something for each of them that would make Dani smile.”
Yet another crazy idea, Lisa thought. And yet she had tried to follow up on it after Tim’s encouragement. She had gone to the café looking for Barb the very next day. It was closed down. But what would she have said to her if she had been there? Do you remember Dani? How do you think Dani’s death affected your entire life? What do you think Dani would do for you if she could? It was preposterous.
“Tim, what did you do?” She asked, suddenly realizing where he might be going with this.
“I ran into the Allens today. Ammy, my puppy, sort of introduced me. I told them how much you like tea and that you would love to meet with them. . . Well, we’ve been invited to their flat next week.”
Lisa felt her brow furrow. “Tea? . . . Are you okay? I’m in San Diego. And you have a dog?”
“I’ll fly you first class if you agree. I want you to come here. I want you to meet with them—with me. And I also want you to meet Ammy. She’s amazing.”
“Oh, Tim,” said Lisa. How many times had he begged her to meet him somewhere far away? Even as she had that thought, she knew, not only did she no longer have a viable excuse but she also really wanted to go. The idea of leaving home on a plane made her hand tremble against the phone, but she did want to see Edinburgh, and she did want to meet the Allens.
“Hold on,” Tim said, “Hear me out. A long time ago you told me about your idea, and I listened. It seemed crazy as heck at the time, but it stuck with me.”
“What idea?” Lisa asked. There had been so many crazy ideas over the years.
“To get the Allen Horsemanship Program started again.” He made it sound so reasonable.
She said, “I can’t believe you even remember that. I was concussed. You reined me in that day.”
“Just come to Scotland, Lisa. Please. . . If nothing else, it will be fun.”
Next
Part 4 | This Storm is Called Progress
5 - Sedona