C-26

by D. D. Lorenzo

  Ian picked up a box of tissue from the desk, offering them to her with an outstretched hand. She plucked two from the box, dabbing at her unchecked tears and then swiping them against her nose.

  "Thank you." She cleared her throat, looking over at Ian with heartbreak in her eyes. "It isn't always like that. Sometimes he's just Dash, exactly as I've always known him. Warm and tender. Thoughtful and kind. He apologizes though I assure him I'm not upset, and I know that none of this is his fault. He knows that his mind will leave me before his heart stops beating. How tragic is that? I can see the rage behind his eyes, the helplessness that he feels for the situation. Then I see the sadness because of a future together that we'll never have. It breaks him, and all I can do is hold him. I don't have the luxury of a lie to tell him that everything will be all right, because we both know it won't be. And then there are times where he is gone, just like that night on the stage. There is an emptiness in his eyes, a vacancy. Dash isn't there, and there’s no way I can predict if he’ll ever come back."

  Her expression drew up in pain as she gave Ian a desperate look. "It terrifies me, you know? I'm afraid to go to sleep because I might miss him when he's lucid. Every time he is, it could be the last time I ever see him. The last time I ever get to talk to my Dash." A sob stole her voice, the remnant strained. "It isn't fair. It just isn't fucking fair." Her voice trailed away as she wrapped her arms around her waist in a feeble attempt to console herself.

  Ian patiently listened as she emptied her feelings, and then sat quietly as she regained her composure. It was the first time she'd seen him act remotely normal.

  Suddenly, Sky and Ian were on common ground. That's what pain does to people. It makes everyone equal. Whether physical or mental, it has a way of reducing even the toughest person to emotional rubble, exposing the truth behind a veneer. It's cruel. Painfully honest. Vicious. Revealing. Inhumane. It takes, and takes, and takes some more as it strips you raw. Then it covers you with a blanket of grief, tucking your shattered, empty heart into a bed made of thorns. Pain’s exhaustion pricks you as you sleep while never giving you rest. It feeds you with plates full of grief seasoned with nauseating flavor, leaving nothing but bitterness for nourishment. You spend each remaining waking moment, wondering if you’ll have the courage ever again to survive the torturous rending.

  Chapter 40

  Some time passed, allowing both Sky and Ian to compose themselves. A gentler human being now replaced the maniacal, eccentric man that had pounded on the door demanding entrance. She brushed back loose strands of hair with open hands and rearranged a messy bun atop her head. Running her tongue over her teeth, she scavenged for any moisture that might remain in her cotton dry mouth. Rolling her shoulders, she adjusted to a different position, pulling her legs up and tucking her feet beneath her. Ian watched her, his pain-filled gaze now appearing tired.

  "Do you have any questions for me? I know this is a lot to take in."

  Ian nodded, patting her hand. "Just one. Can I see him?"

  A tender smile curved her lips. "Sure. Just don't expect anything other than the unexpected. At least," she shrugged, "that's what Dash's doctors tell me."

  Ian nodded. Sky pushed out of the chair while Ian waited for her. She looped her arm in his and walked him through the main living room to the bedroom. She stopped at the door.

  "His nurse will be in there. Today was a good day for him. I hope it still is. I know the last time you two saw each other, there was some tension. I hope you can find some peace in your visit, Ian," she said, resigned. "There's no way of knowing if there will be another opportunity."

  Sky watched as Ian mulled over the words. Her cat, Hemingway, leapt to the chair outside the bedroom door as Ian nodded. Something in his expression told her that he was already resigned to what he would find. In an unexpected gesture, he hugged her. Her eyes flew open as did her arms, but a moment later, she returned the embrace.

  The interaction was brief. It was apparent he was uncomfortable with displays of affection. He straightened his posture and brushed back his messy hair. "Thank you."

  Skylar watched as he entered, then closed the door quietly behind him.

  Night had fallen by the time that Ian exited the bedroom. It was apparent to Sky that he was unnerved. His usual, smart ass attitude had sobered to one of concern. "He’s worse than the last time I saw him. Three months ago, his knees were shaking. Two months ago, his hands started. That was when he started forgetting things. Guitar riffs. A part of a song he'd been playing forever. I guess those were signs of the disease."

  His expression was a study of pain. Guilt and sorrow had wielded twin swords, and Ian was the latest one in their world that had fallen victim to their blades. "I know you're going to hate me for saying this, but I can't come back after today, Sky. I can't see him again. Not like this."

  Ian hesitated for a moment. His initial cocky attitude having entirely changed from the cavalier man she knew. "I know you and I have been like oil and water, but the one thing we have in common is that we both love Dash." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "Get the doctors to do whatever they can, Sky. Maybe it's the medicine they have him on, but he kept calling me Reginald. He was looking right at me and didn't know me. He asked me how things were at the club. Had I quit smoking those nasty cigars. There was a look in his eye, you know? Like he was having fun at my expense. He looked so . . . Dash. At first, I thought he was fooling around, but he wasn't. He called himself Izzy. I kept slipping and calling him Dash. He got pissed. Then I acted like Reginald was my name, and I told him all his friends at the club asked about him. That seemed to make him happy, but there's definitely some weird shit going on in his head."

  Having seen Ian out, Skylar quietly slipped into the bedroom. A warm and tender smile crossed her lips. Dash was peacefully asleep. She tiptoed to the side of the bed where his nurse sat in a chair. She bent down and whispered in the woman's ear. "Why don't you get some sleep? It's been a long day."

  The nurse gave Sky an appreciative nod, closing the door quietly upon her exit. Skylar slipped off her shoes and climbed into bed. Dash reached for her, sliding his arm around her as he moved to his side. Sky loved these quiet moments, especially because she knew they wouldn't last.

  She stared out at the night sky. There was a beautiful view from the bedroom. The full moon's glow lit up the water. The tide had come in, the water much more flat and serene than a few hours ago. The tiny waves kissed the shoreline; the sound lulling her into a peaceful state. As her husband spooned her, she snuggled closer to him. It was so hard to comprehend how so much had happened in so short a time. Who would have known their love story would come to this, but then, not all love stories have happy endings. She would have to be satisfied with their lot, taking each day as it came, and being thankful for their happy-for-now.

  "Are you sleeping?" The rich tone of Dash's voice made her smile. It always did.

  "No. I'm so tired I can barely keep my eyes open, but I'm not sleeping."

  "There are things I need to tell you. Things I want to say."

  Now cozy in her bed and his arms, Sky's eyelids fluttered. She wasn't sure she could stay awake long enough to hear what he had to say. "I'll try to listen, Dash, but I can't promise I won't fall asleep."

  Instantly, he stiffened. "Abigail, why do you keep calling me Dash when you know my name? Isidore or Izzy is acceptable. I'm not comfortable with the moniker Dash. The connotation that I rush through anything simply doesn't resonate with me. You know I am a contemplative man in both my business and personal life."

  "You're right, Izzy. Why don't you sleep? We can discuss whatever you want later."

  Skylar tried to stay awake, but her eyelids fluttered. This day had been long and trying, especially the purging cry she’d had while Ian had visited with Dash. Although she thought herself superhuman, she’d have to remember that sometimes the caregiver needed to care for herself. After a day of balancing Dash, Vince, and then Ian, all she wanted to do was res
t.

  "Abigail Rosenberg, you mustn't tire yourself like this. I won't have it. That’s why we employ household staff. You have a kind heart, my dear, but I forbid you collapsing because you haven't delegated duties properly. You must remember your status. It won't do if you set a bad example for the children." His body stiffened, his tone clearly superior.

  Even in an agitated state, Dash was more composed than most men would be if their wives had called them by someone else's name. She certainly hadn't maintained a level head when he’d done the same to her. Whether he wanted to be called Izzy or Isidore, Dash was still her husband. His care for her the same. Though Alzheimer's had altered his personality and put him in some strange, convoluted frame of mind, he was the love of her life, and, for whatever time they had left, she would make his days as happy as possible.

  Chapter 41

  Exhausted tears stung her eyes. It wasn't as though she hadn't cried enough of them today, and now that her energy was spent, it seemed they came more easily.

  "There, there, my sweet Abigail. There's no need for tears, dearest. I just want you to take care of yourself, my love."

  "Yes, Izzy. You're right. You're always right." Skylar flipped onto her other side and hugged him. Immediately she felt him relax. With exhaustion rapidly pulling down the shades on her thoughts, she buried her face into his chest. Her Dash—the rocker who, until a few months ago, jammed to songs by Metallica and Aerosmith—had once again become the prim and proper Izzy. The man who loved her in all the right ways was still inside somewhere. It was so frustrating. So painful. He was disappearing before her eyes, and all she wanted to do was hold him tight. She wanted all the parts of him. To smell his burnt grilled cheese sandwiches. To watch him clean his Harley until it shined before taking her for a ride. To make love with him all through the night and glimpse the sunrise by his side. She didn't know Izzy. All she knew was the man she never thought would come along. He was there, in her arms, but he was devoid of any memories of her. Izzy wanted Abigail. She wanted Dash. It was too much to wrap her head around, but if she closed her eyes, inhaled his scent, touched him, then maybe, just maybe, he would remember how it used to be, and so could she.

  He wrapped his arms around her, adjusting them both so that she could hear his heartbeat. "There, there, my love. Our dispute is over. No matter what, Abby, you'll always be my girl."

  Skylar stifled a cry as he gave her a squeeze. The lump in her throat lodged there as he reached for the covers and tucked them around her. The revelation that she might never see, hear, or speak to Dash again shattered her heart. Like a child blowing a dandelion wish, the life she’d pictured scattered on the wind along with a million hopes and dreams.

  More tears surfaced, though she thought she'd cried them all. All she could do was sit by and watch as their future disappeared.

  "Oh, my goodness, dearest. You must let this go." He gently brushed her cheek with his thumb, the caress so tender she leaned into it. "There's no need to be upset, dear girl. It's nothing."

  It was everything.

  Skylar slowly nodded. Sleep approached as a welcome friend and, as she lay cradled in her husband's arms, her breaths evened out.

  "Abigail, do you remember the dress I purchased for you on my last trip? The blue one? I like that frock. You should wear blue more often."

  Sky didn't answer as sleep settled in.

  "Oh, my dear girl. You are a tired one, aren't you? You do remember that we're to meet the Fitzgeralds for dinner? They will be our companions tonight. It's sure to be a delightful evening."

  "Hmm. I didn’t," Sky answered. If she could sneak in a nap as he talked, she was sure she’d be in a better frame of mind. "I'm sorry, Izzy. Why don't you refresh my memory while I rest?"

  Laughing heartily, he pressed a kiss to her head. "I most certainly can do that, my dear. You know how I love the propriety of a well spent evening."

  Skylar drifted away as he began, caught up in the rich sound of his voice. As she succumbed to exhaustion, she fell into an unfamiliar place in her dream. Somewhere she'd never been before.

  "Abigail, they're playing our song." An outstretched hand appeared before her, and suddenly she wasn't inside their house. When she looked up, there stood Dash. The only word she could use to describe him was "dashing." How ironic.

  Dressed in tails, a black bow tie sat perfectly at the hollow of his throat. He was different, yet the same. His eyes were still the warm, chocolaty color that had caught her the first time she’d looked into them.

  "Abigail?” An invitation quirked his brow as she hadn't yet taken his hand. As Skylar looked down and saw that she was dressed in a floral gown. The background was soft pink, the other colors scattered throughout with the fresh flowers of spring.

  "Izzy?" she questioned.

  He nodded, his smile dazzling and oh, so inviting. When she lifted her gaze and connected with his eyes, she found her home. Her anchor. Her Dash.

  She couldn’t explain it and, at the moment, didn’t care to try. What made sense was that Skylar was starving for her husband, and she didn't care that they were in a dream. She was with him, the one she loved. She reached out, accepting his invitation, and gently placed her hand in his.

  The connection overwhelmed her senses. One touch of her fingers to his palm weakened her knees. She trembled. Her skin warmed. With one coupling, the past and present sutured together their lifetimes. The world as she knew it spiraled, dizzying her as she traveled toward another time and another place. Heat sparked with a simple touch. Synapses exploded, crackling and firing as her present persona melded with that of Abigail’s. The combination terrified her as the realization sunk in that she, Skylar, was Abigail.

  How to explain the unexplainable? How and why this was happening—that which had occurred with a simple skim of two hands touching and eyes linking—mystified her. But she didn’t care. She was with her beloved, Izzy—who, by some twist of fate, was, miraculously and most assuredly, Dash.

  He led her to the dance floor. Elegant chandeliers hung sparkling from the ceiling as a rainbow of colors dotted the walls, the magical effect of light meeting crystal. A man and woman skated by them as they danced the waltz, he in a tuxedo much like the one Dash was wearing, while the woman, whom Sky presumed to be his wife, wore a dress trimmed with delicate lace. Others joined them on the dance floor, swirling around in her dream, but her attention was only on her husband. Tall and lean, she was well aware of the muscular form hidden beneath his clothes. He grinned, leading her around the dance floor. Her smile equaled his. How could it not? Nothing mattered other than that he was here, with her. All else faded away.

  "Do you remember this tune, Abby?” His handsome face beamed. His speech was so clear. He was present. Whatever this was—wherever they were—she suddenly didn't ever want to leave.

  "Da da dum, da da dum, da da dum ti dum dum." They danced the waltz, Dash singing the beat as he moved them about the space. But he wasn't Dash; he was Izzy, and she didn't care.

  His eyes held a smile, and she was tethered. The love she saw reflected there transcended everything she understood about time and space.

  "Is it coming back to you, Abby? Do you remember me?" His tone was soft and tender.

  "Yes." Skylar gazed into his eyes, his pleasure at her response evident.

  A relieved smile played at his lips. "I'm so glad. I thought you'd forgotten me." His eyes danced with delight. "There are things that are worth remembering, wouldn't you agree?"

  Skylar nearly fell into him as a chill ran up her spine. "Do you know me? Really know me?"

  He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with delight. "I do. I could never forget you. That’s why I came to you, my love. I wouldn't exist without the other half of my beating heart."

  How was this happening? What part of the time and space continuum cracked, allowing them more than one lifetime. She was Skylar, yet she was Abigail. He was Izzy, yet he was Dash. None of it made sense. None of it was real.

>   Yet it was.

  Rational thought seeped into her dreams and, fighting for a sensible explanation, Sky tried to wake herself. Tried to rouse her consciousness to a state that made sense. When she tried to pull away from Izzy in her dream, he refused to let go.

  "I know this is hard for you to understand, my sweet girl, but there are some things that stand the test of time. Some braided lives that are so intertwined they are meant to be eternal. The love we shared both then and now knows no bounds. No distance or circumstance can keep us apart. Do you understand that?"

  It was the look in his eyes that brought her back to him. As she abandoned rational thoughts and looked into the love reflected there, all fear faded away. Yet, there was a flicker of sadness that flashed within the warm brown color.

  "My poor, Abigail. I promised you that I would find you, and I'm keeping that promise. I only have a little time with you, so I need you to understand what is happening. Sometimes, something magical happens. Two people who were meant to be together will always be. We were before, we are now, and I'm sure we will be again, darling. Although last I saw you, you were terribly afraid. I'm sorry that I was unable to protect you. If it had been within my power to save us, to get us both off the ship, I would have done so by love, grace, and sheer willpower. The tragedy was that you and I weren't finished. Cabin C-26 was never meant to be our final resting place. It was a terrible thing that happened. An unimaginable tragedy. I had planned to surprise you with dinner and a gift when we reached our destination, but it was not meant to be. I was helpless, and you were cold. The waters were so frigid they stole the pink from your cheeks. I watched as the color drained from your lips, but you held my promise in your eyes. They remained as beautiful as a clear sky or a crystal lake. Though I hated knowing we were leaving this earth, I had no doubt our love would survive the passing. And now I've come back to you. I found a way to let you know that we always will be. I looked for a way to let you know, and I found it. I know you are as afraid now as you were our last night together. I want you to know that there is no need. No matter what, we will never be lost to one another. We never were. Please, for me, try to remember what was, so you can appreciate what is.”