Chapter 26 - A Little Bit of Hope

It was a frigid January day when Shelly McCarthy hailed a cab at the Madison, Wisconsin airport. Shelly hadn’t slept for days, in anticipation of this trip, and it had been another exhausting journey. The cold Wisconsin wind nipped at her face and froze her fingertips. As she impatiently waited for the cab, she decided that she needed sleep in the worst way. “Some warmth would be nice too,” she thought.

Shelly directed the cab driver to the hotel that she had booked. Once again, she didn’t even bother to unpack her bags when she arrived in her room. She was beginning to wonder if it was all worth it. “Oh well, too tired to worry about those things today,” she thought. Shelly flopped on the bed, and was sound asleep within minutes.

After living the past several months with his in-laws, Dylan Robertson had decided that it was time for a change. He couldn’t just sit there numb in Hope’s childhood house day-after-day. It had been over a month since her death. While time seemed to have stood still for him, the rest of the world was still turning. Hope wouldn’t have wanted him to sit around, half dead himself.

Dylan had purchased a modestly priced condominium. Since Hope’s death, he had accumulated a few pieces of furniture that had been stored in Vern and Ida’s basement, along with the items that had not been sold at the auction. So, with the help of some friends, Dylan was moving out. There wasn’t a lot of stuff, but enough to require the rental of a medium-sized truck. And he was chided more than once for picking the coldest day of the New Year for this task.

“Don’t you guys worry about the weather,” was Dylan’s retort, “I’m treating for dinner tonight. And you can drink all of the beer that you want!” They were more than willing to endure the cold just to help Dylan, but dinner and drinks was certainly a nice perk. And Dylan thought it would be nice to hang out with some of the old gang again.

Shelly McCarthy was up at the crack of dawn that day, ready to take on new challenges. She had learned from the adoption records that her mother’s name was Hope Quinlan. The father’s name was barely intelligible – it appeared to have been smeared. She couldn’t make out the last name, other than the middle letters, “bert.” And as best as she could tell, the first name was four or five letters – perhaps one of them was an “L.” Not a lot to go on.

Shelly had done her homework ahead of the trip, and could not locate a single Hope Quinlan in the Madison phone book. For that matter, there didn’t appear to be a single person in the state by that name. “Of course,” Shelly had thought, “what are the odds that she even lived in Madison in any more?” But Shelly had uncovered a lead. There was one Quinlan with a Madison address, Vern and Ida Quinlan. She had thought of calling, but then decided to pay a personal visit given the sensitivity of the issue. Shelly realized that she might not be a welcome sight. But it would be harder for someone to turn her away, if she was there at the doorstep.

Shelly was nervous and a little nauseated as she climbed into the cab. “130 Winston Circle, please.” She said it with a crack in her voice, and she could feel the butterflies fluttering wildly in her stomach. The thoughts went wild in her head. “Maybe it’s not my mom, but what if they’re related to me? Maybe it’s an aunt and uncle. Maybe Vern is my brother, for all I know.” Shelly squeezed her hands tight, and shut her eyes, “I just pray to God that they can help me.”

Dylan’s friends had driven the truck away to get a head start on the unloading, while he checked the house over once more for anything that might have been left behind. He knew that there was nothing left to move, but he needed some time alone in Hope’s room. Vern and Ida had told Dylan that he could take anything that he wanted from Hope’s room. He left it intact, though. Dylan couldn’t stand the thought of dismantling it. Besides, he could visit anytime that he wanted – anytime he wanted or needed to feel a little closer to Hope.

Dylan sat on the bed, looking around. “Such a wonderful person, such a wonderful life, why did it have to end?” A lone tear streamed down his cheek. He didn’t wipe it away because it reminded him that he was alive – it was nice to feel that way, instead of numb. The tear slowly ran from his cheek down his neck. “I wish I could at least see her one more time, just one more time.”

As Dylan stood up, he looked out the window to see a cab pull up to the curb. He could hardly believe his eyes when he saw Hope climb out the back. “Oh my God,” he said out loud. “How could this be?” Dylan was sure that he was hallucinating as he sprinted down the staircase, two steps at time. “Vern! Ida!” He called to the back family room. “This is incredible! I don’t know what I’m seeing but I think it’s Hope!”

Dylan ran to the front door, slinging it wide open, just as Shelly had stepped onto the porch. She stepped back, startled. Shelly saw a man with a look of joy on his face. As he focused in on her face, though, the joy turned to puzzlement. Dylan stopped dead in his tracks. “This is Hope alright, but she doesn’t look a day over twenty,” he thought. Dylan recalled their conversations about reincarnation. “Could there be some truth to it all?” he wondered.

Shelly had a speech prepared, but she totally forgotten it in the moment. The man on the porch looked oddly familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why. Shelly stared back at him for a moment, and then snapped out of it enough to speak a few words. “Uhm, sir,” Shelly said, “I’m looking for Hope Quinlan. Does she live here by chance?”

“Why no,” Dylan replied, “Hope died a little over a month ago. Who are you? Why do you want to see Hope?” Dylan could not get over the uncanny resemblance.

Shelly’s heart sunk to her feet. She had missed meeting her mother by a month. She didn’t know why – maybe it was the culmination of so many months of hard times and so much work all for nothing – but Shelly began to cry.

Almost instinctively, Dylan walked to Shelly, drew her into his chest, and hugged her. Shelly didn’t resist. It was nice to be hugged again. She had been so lonely for so many months. She sobbed as she spoke some of the words of her speech, a speech that was now irrelevant.

“My name is Shelly McCarthy. I was adopted shortly after my birth. Hope Quinlan was my mother.”

Dylan couldn’t believe his ears. For a split second, he wondered if this was some sort of con. Then he realized that the woman before him looked too much like Hope to be a lie.

“Oh my,” he said taking a step back, “then I’m your father. Perhaps we should get in out of the cold. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and there are some people inside that you would probably like to meet.”

Vern and Ida had been peering out the living room windows. They walked to the front foyer, as Dylan and Shelly entered the house.

“Vern and Ida,” Dylan proclaimed proudly, “I’d like you to meet your granddaughter. I guess there’s a little bit of Hope alive after all.”