by Rebecca York
“Let me put it this way. Take a discreet look around at the other patients when you walk down the hall,” he murmured. “Some need more specialized care than others. The staff can’t have other family members invading other patients’ privacy by wandering around. I wouldn’t want some stranger peeking in at me.”
His voice lowered a speck even though his tone was reassuring. “I’m fine with my routine, really,” he told her. “The team of nurses assigned to me have to move my body around, so what’s left of my muscles don’t stiffen. The nurses are very cautious about bedsores, too. They bathe this bag of bones, and help me onto the bedpan. So, don’t worry if you have to leave for a few hours. It’s my new normal. But, I’ll always be here when you come back.”
Sonia bit back a scream and made a big show of checking her watch. “I still have a few more minutes. Do you want me to put the baseball game on? I hear your team began their season with a bang.”
He closed his eyes. “No, not right now,” he said. “I’m pretty tired.”
Sonia buried her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. David was growing weaker by the second.
She heard the rustle of the pillowcase when David turned his head towards her and made a tsk sound with his tongue. “Why the tears?” he whispered.
She could only shake her head wordlessly, until a tug with no more power to it than that of a baby’s pulled on a stray lock of her hair.
“Look at me, Sonia.”
She sighed deeply and, with great effort, regained control of herself. Negative emotion had no place here. She raised her head and sent him the genuine smile he deserved – the one he’d always claimed brightened a rainy day.
“Ah, there’s my sweet baby,” he crooned. “I’d give anything in the world to see your eyes sparkle with happiness again.”
Sonia stood on tiptoe, leaned over the bed, and took David’s face between her hands. She gently nibbled his lips, and traced them with her tongue. For several seconds he returned the kiss, and she wished with all her heart she could transfer some of her strength into her husband’s frail body.
“I’m fine,” she mouthed against his. “Really. I love you, Darling.”
The charge nurse poked her head into the room and said, “Visiting hours are over, Mrs. Mattson. I’ll take good care of your husband, so don’t you worry.”
Sonia kissed her husband once more. “I’ll see you in the morning. Promise?”
David gifted her with the smile that had always turned her insides to mush. “Promise. I love you,” he said.
Chapter Two
July 2018: Lars and Julia
Lars Whitney carefully placed a dozen undershirts in the oversized suitcase lying on the king bed he shared with his wife Julia.
He strode back to his armoire, slid a large hand beneath his boxers, and neatly added them to the suitcase.
He tilted his head to the side and folded his arms. “Hmm, what else do you think I need to pack, Jeff?”
Jeff, the six year-old boy who barely reached his father’s thighs, held up a maroon and gray leather shaving kit, wearing the grin that had stolen Lars’s heart the moment the child had been born.
Lars caressed his son’s blonde curls lovingly – not every baby came into the world wearing a smile – most arrived howling and frightened, but not his little man.
Lord knew Jeff’s mother had done enough shrieking for the both of them during her labor, even though she’d been given an epidural.
“Silly woman,” he muttered as he tucked the shaving kit into his bag.
“What did you say, Daddy?”
“Nothing, son,”
Jeff tugged on Lars’s pants leg. “When you coming home?”
Lars picked up the child, sat down on the bed, and placed him on his lap. “I’m not sure yet,” he said. “Training camp starts in two days, and I’ll have to stay there maybe a month or so, until preseason starts. Maybe we can convince your mother to fly to New Jersey in a week or two so you can watch me practice with the team. Wouldn’t that be fun?”
Jeff wrinkled his freckled nose. “Yeah, fun for me, but Mommy doesn’t like to fly. She always says she needs some kind of pill to, um, take the edge off. What kind of pills keeps people off the edge?”
Lars turned away to hide a scowl. It pissed him off Julia needed sedation to fly a measly two hours to visit her husband while he was on the road – and worse that such a young child had to be made aware of such things.
“I’m not sure, big guy, but I’ll chat with your mom and ask her about it,” he said, setting the boy to his feet. “Now, off you go, I think I hear homework calling you. See you at supper.”
His son held up his arms. “Bend over, Daddy, I can’t reach. I think you need a hug.”
“Absolutely, buddy,” the big man replied.
When Jeff wrapped his arms around Lars’s neck and gave him a wet kiss on the cheek, the man’s eyes filled. Julia was proving to be more of an annoyance with her idiosyncrasies, rather than sharing wifely or motherly support, and grated on his last nerve.
Only God knew what kind of behavior his wife displayed with their son when he was traveling the country with the football team.
Lars thrust his fingers through his unruly, black curls and strode downstairs, determined to have a long overdue chat with his wife.
He entered the kitchen and found Julia standing at the sink, gazing out the window at the Whitney property.
Lars looked beyond her petite frame. He had to admit the view was spectacular – their home overlooked a small, freshwater lake on their property, and a bevy of swans had arrived the previous year to make a home for themselves in the reeds. A small motorboat was tied to the dock, one of Lars’s few personal indulgences, and the gazebo where they rarely had the cookouts he’d dreamed about having was white washed, yet ornate in its simplicity.
He planned to teach Jeff how to fish the following year, once the season was over…
However, not one to become lost in reverie, Lars cleared his throat to summon Julia’s attention.
When she turned and faced him, his heart turned to stone - the eyes of his beautiful, blonde wife were as icy as the blue waters of their lake in deep winter.
“So, I guess you’ll be leaving in the morning then?” she asked as if inquiring about the weather.
“You know I am,” he replied. “I told you two weeks ago tomorrow’s when I have to report. Anyway, it’s not like preseason practice is something new in our lives. Would’ve thought you’d gotten used to my job by now.”
His wife folded her arms and sighed. “I’m sick of it, if you want to know the truth.”
Lars nodded. “I’ve thought so for a while, but that doesn’t change things. We have Jeff to consider. He just told me he wants to you two to fly out to Jersey in a week or so. The little guy misses me when I’m gone, even though you don’t appear to.”
“I’ll have to give it a good think,” she said. “You know I’m not fond of flying.”
Lars frowned. That his words about their son missing him did nothing to penetrate Julia’s selfishness was more than annoying, and he wished Jeff were old enough to fly without an adult.
“Then what about taking the train?” he offered. “I could set you up with tickets out of Atlanta to Newark, and arrange to have a car bring you to the hotel. Let me look into it, okay?”
His wife shuddered. “Maybe, although I’m not sure I’d be able to sleep on a noisy train.”
Lars heaved a frustrated sigh. Knowing he was getting nowhere with the stubborn woman, he decided to change the topic until after he researched the train schedule. “What do you have planned for supper?” he asked. “If you don’t feel like cooking, we could go to one of your favorite restaurants.”
“I don’t feel like going out. How about we get some Chinese food delivered?”
Lars was not fond of Chinese food, but he picked their marital battles carefully to keep the peace when necessary. “Okay, give them a call in
a bit. Order me some grilled chicken and vegetables. No sauce.”
Julia smirked. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Think you can manage to be home for Christmas this year?”
Lars averted his eyes. “The team’s scheduled to play the early game on Christmas Day. But I’ll fly you out, if that’s what it takes for us to be together as a family for the holiday – I’ll even charter the team plane so you don’t have to deal with the holiday crowds.”
Julia shook her head. His wife’s negativity coupled with her reluctance to take advantage of a chartered flight just for her and their child burned his gut.
“Please, Julia. It’s the only way I can think of for us to celebrate Christmas together. The NFL creates the schedule, not me.”
“You didn’t make it home last year for Christmas, either.”
Lars held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Jesus, Julia, I don’t make the rules. I have a contract for the next four years, courtesy of that fat, five million dollar resigning bonus that I agreed to, if you’ll recall. You didn’t seem to mind my absences so much when we were interviewed on television, either, after I kicked the field goal that got the team to the playoffs.”
Julia tossed her blonde braid over a shoulder and sighed. “I didn’t realize I’d have to become a football widow while you got all the glory, though.”
“Oh, knock off the dramatics, Julia,” he scoffed. “That bonus means we can travel anywhere we’d like during the off season. First class. It would behoove you to remember I had booked first class tickets for you and Jeff to fly to the stadium three days before the game last year for Christmas,” he reminded her. “Yet, you punked at the last minute, so the blame’s on you for missing that holiday, not me.”
“Who the hell wants to spend Christmas in a hotel, for shit’s sake,” she spat. “Thank God my parents took care of making a nice Christmas for me and their grandson.”
Lars tried not to revisit the disappointment he’d felt when he hadn’t been able to spend Christmas Day with his son. True, he’d flown home two days later, but still.
It wasn’t the same.
This year Christmas is going to be different, he vowed.
Exactly how remained to be seen.
Chapter Three
August 2018: Just Sonia
Sonia had finally set about the task of boxing David’s clothes to donate them to the Salvation Army, but intended to keep a few of his favorite shirts.
She held one of his flannels to her nose and breathed in his lingering scent. When she’d cleaned out his shaving kit, she’d sniffed his underarm deodorant and decided to keep it.
“Heck,” she’d whispered. “His smells better than mine anyway.”
From that day on, Sonia swiped her arms with David’s deodorant, and even though she knew she was nuts, sniffed her armpits just to get a whiff of what used to be.
The mixture of David’s masculine musk and the faint aroma of the aftershave he’d favored was all she had to remember him by.
Once the estate issues had been settled and the mourners disappeared, Sonia wondered what was to become of her. Now that she was…a widow.
“There, I’ve said it out loud,” she told the empty room.
The fourth of July had passed without notice, but the marker surrounding his birthday on July eleventh had sent her to her knees in a puddle of grief.
The Jersey shore was notorious for fireworks and other celebrations during the summer, but Sonia avoided those outdoor activities. Especially the Seaside boardwalk where she and David always had skee-ball contests in their favorite arcade.
She considered moving, but didn’t have the heart to sell the home they’d gutted and fixed up to their mutual liking.
Oh, if only I had been able to conceive David’s child during our ten-year marriage, maybe my melancholy wouldn’t pierce my heart so freaking deep, she often told herself.
Already the stores and the television were promoting back to school sales. Once the kids were back to school, Halloween and Thanksgiving advertisements would begin their yearly flash dances.
Oh, my God, how am I supposed to cope with the holidays to come, alone without my darling David?
Tears traced an all-too familiar river down her cheeks and she buried her face in the flannel she still held.
“I miss his touch,” she wept. “And I miss being touched.”
A warm breeze suddenly swept through the room and the gauzy curtains hanging at the window fluttered from the motion.
Sonia’s startled eyes watched as the curtains settled back into their rightful place – the window was closed, and the air conditioning grate in the ceiling too far away to cause any breeze.
“Move on and survive,” she heard David whisper. “You must…”
“Now, I’m really going bonkers,” she murmured as she folded the shirt and placed it on the bed. “Did David just speak to me now, or did I imagine the whole thing, breeze and all? No, those curtains didn’t sway on their own - maybe he’s trying to tell me it’s okay to try and find my rightful place in the world again.”
She turned to shut the closet door and gave the empty side of it where David’s clothing had hung a last look – and noticed a medium-sized leather case lying on the top shelf.
“Oh, wow, my camera,” she breathed. “I haven’t seen that thing around for at least three years. In fact, I’d forgotten about it.”
Sonia had majored in literature with photography as her second in college, but instead of making a career for herself, she’d met and fallen in love with David.
She smiled faintly at the memories of her college years and how she’d photographed many of the pictures included in the university’s senior yearbook. She’d always had a talent with her camera, but taking pictures had been more like a hobby than a calling.
Sonia took the high-end, digital camera David had gifted her for Christmas three years prior from the leather case, and turned it on.
She gently shook the device when the on button failed to go green. “Of course, the battery’s dead, dummy,” the woman muttered. She plugged it into the charger, instinctively knowing what she’d photograph as soon as the camera was in operational mode.
***
Sonia’s sleep pattern had been sorely disrupted during David’s illness, and most especially after the funeral. However, that night she slept well, and awoke the next morning feeling more refreshed than she had since the previous winter when he’d been diagnosed.
A cool idea had come to her in a dream, and she cleaved to it, hoping it signified a true purpose.
If she could find the right Internet sites to contact…
After a hastily eaten breakfast of fruit cocktail and coffee, Sonia went outside with the camera and inspected the garden David had planted two summers before, after they’d moved in.
The dwarf fig trees were anything but small this season, she noted with pride. One of them had sprouted a single fig, which had appeared on her husband’s birthday in July, and there were more tiny figs appearing, too. “I should Google the best time to harvest them,” she decided, once she was through with her small mission.
The peach-colored roses were in full bloom and the hydrangea bush was lush with blossoms of light lavender mixed with pink.
Sonia shaded her eyes with a hand and studied the angle of the sun so she could get the best photos. Then, stepping onto the lawn, she began snapping her camera at the garden.
She changed her positions often – sometimes standing in various spots, with the sun behind her, or kneeling on the warm grass. She also managed a few squats closer to the plants to better capture the interior beauty of the fig leaves and the roses.
A monarch butterfly suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and landed on one of the hydrangea blooms. Hardly daring to breathe, she slowly approached it with hopes of zooming in for a close up of this unexpected, treasure shot.
Its orange and black wings were a delightful contrast to the pale lavender flower where it perched. As Sonia silently
took the pictures, she recalled a friend mentioning after David’s funeral that the arrival of a monarch butterfly is considered a sign that a deceased loved one’s spirit is nearby.
“What a comforting belief,” she thought, backing away from the garden as quietly as possible.
She walked to the porch, never taking her eyes off the little creature, until it spread its wings and flew towards her.
Sonia held out a hand, hoping the butterfly might land upon her palm, but although the butterfly circled around her head several times, it suddenly zipped off into the sky and vanished behind the oak trees.
Back in the house, she grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge and strode to her office. Once her computer was up and running, she plugged a USB port into it and attached the other end to the camera. When the icon flickered the transfer process was ready, Sonia held her breath – “Please, dear Lord, let these pictures be worthy of my plans for them,” she whispered.
She took a long swallow of water, right-clicked the mouse, and the slide show began warming up on the flat screen.
Sonia gasped with pleasure. “Good grief, lady, you haven’t lost your touch,” she said aloud as the photographs she’d taken were displayed one by one on the screen.
They were vibrant and crisp with life. She reached out a hand and traced the detail she’d captured on the monarch’s wings as it perched on the hydrangea. The close up shot was by far her favorite photo of the two-dozen pictures she’d taken.
With closed eyes, she clasped both hands together, and whispered, “Thank you, God, for these beautiful gifts, and for the dream You sent my way last night, and for showing me what I might do with them.”
She saved the photos in the computer’s cloud and detached the USB port from both it and the camera. Her belly growled with hunger, but she ignored it. “Patience, dear, we’ll eat later,” she said with a smile. “I have work to do.”