July 19

by Lori Cohen

  I was determined not to let the potentially somber mood in my house destroy the immense happiness I was feeling after my time with Owen. I walked into the house after roller skating, not knowing what I would find. I was so surprised to hear my mom’s and Sarah’s laughter coming from the kitchen.

  “Hi,” I said as I took my coat and boots off.

  “Come join us honey,” my mom said happily. I walked into the kitchen to find my mom, dad and Sarah around the kitchen island sipping wine and eating cheese and crackers. “Sorry we started without you, but we really needed to change the mood around here,” my mom said cheerily.

  “I’m happy you did! It was a little depressing to say the least,” I agreed.

  “I’d like to apologize. It was totally my fault. I’m over it,” offered Sarah.

  I hugged her and said, “Glad to have you back. Now pass me some cheese, I’m starving.”

  After dinner, Sarah and I chilled on her bed and listened to music. I brought her up to date on Owen and his aunt and uncle. Sarah told me all about college — the wild parties, and her new friends.

  “How are the guys? Anyone special?” I asked.

  “There’s a guy on my floor that I kinda like,” she smiled. His name is Eric and he’s from Philly. We’ve hooked up a few times. We’ll see what happens; he’s pretty cool though.”

  “Let’s see a pic now!” I demanded. We were on his Facebook page in no time. “Oh wow, so hot, he looks like Chris Pine!” I said.

  “Yeah, a little bit!” she said smiling. “It’s good to be home. I wish I wasn’t so stressed about school though. It’s tough being type A. I need to relax,” Sarah sighed.

  “Yeah, you put so much pressure on yourself and you get pretty wound-up,” I frowned. I hugged her and laughed. “We’ll still love you if you can’t manage straight A’s.”

  As much as Sarah missed being at home, she would never understand how much I missed having her living here. With everything going on with my dreams and Owen, I felt like I really needed her. So, for the next few hours we sat there, as though we were still little girls, giggling on her bed, like sisters do.

  Later, as I got into bed to go to sleep, my thoughts drifted to Owen. Texting him I asked, “Do you want to come by tomorrow? 5ish? Meet the family?” I asked. Excited at the thought of Owen and Sarah meeting, I waited for his reply.

  “Of course!” he said.

  Chapter 11

  We walked hand in hand down a quiet part of the beach. We looked up at the beautiful homes perched up high with an amazing view of the ocean. “I want that one day,” he paused and then continued, “with you.” We continued down that stretch of beach until it merged with the putting green of the golf course. No one was there. We went up on the green, stopped and hugged with the ocean breeze kissing our skin.

  I woke up to a stream of sunlight coming in through my window. I felt its warmth and hoped Spring was on its way soon. It was early, so I decided to get some reading and notes done for our “Afterlife” project.

  I was excited to see Owen pull into the driveway, a few minutes early, from my bedroom window. I quickly ran down the stairs to greet him. After a big hug and kiss, I took his hand and led him to the family room to meet my parents and Sarah.

  “Hi Owen,” Sarah said as she got up off the couch to hug him.

  My dad got up and shook Owen’s hand and said, “I’m so happy to meet you.”

  We all sat in the living room and not surprisingly, having Owen there with my family felt natural and relaxed. Sarah talked about life at Babson. Owen talked about his first real winter experience and just the change from West coast to East coast. I could see that my mom desperately wanted to address Owen about his parents and she finally found the words.

  “Owen, we just want you to know how very sorry we are about your parents. It must be very difficult for you,” my mom said.

  I squeezed his hand.

  “Thanks, I’m doing a lot better than I was. My aunt and uncle have been amazing and meeting Aria has been great.” Now he squeezed my hand.

  “That’s so good to hear,” my mom smiled at me as she said that. “I hope you can stay for dinner. It’s taco night here!”

  “I’d love to. Thanks.” Owen responded.

  Later that night, after saying goodbye to my family, I walked Owen to the door. “Hey, you never showed me your art. I really wanted to see it,” he said.

  “Well the truth is, I want to surprise you and wait until it’s all complete at the show. It’ll have a much better impact on the gallery walls. It really does look different in that setting,” I explained.

  I didn’t want to tell Owen about my messed-up dreams at that point. I suppose part of me was afraid he would think there was something wrong with me. The bigger part of me was just so happy in my awake world that I didn’t feel the need to confuse the two.

  “Okay, I get it. I can wait.” he said and then grabbed me and hugged me hard. “I had a great time tonight. Your family is so nice,” he said.

  “Thanks. I had a great time too. Not too awkward hanging out with my family?”

  “No, not at all!” he said, pulling me closer. We kissed gently and said goodnight. The minute he walked out the door, I missed him.

  Sarah immediately came running at me from the family room. “Wow,” Sarah beamed, “what is going on between you guys. It’s like electricity.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, simultaneously pumped and curious.

  “I get it. I get what you were describing about this connection you two have. I can feel it. I can’t describe it, but I can certainly feel it. This is going to sound corny as hell, but it’s magical.”

  I laughed. But not a laugh at her or at what she was saying, but the actual sound of elation came out of my mouth. She understood. It was joy I felt when she said that. I got into bed that night feeling at peace. Having Owen in my life felt perfect.

  “Want to go to the mall with me after school?” Sarah asked as I was getting ready for school.

  “Sure! Whose car though?” I asked.

  “Dad is working from home today. He said it was fine to take his. I’ll come get you after school,” she said.

  “Okay, great! Thanks!”

  I was happy to have Sarah to shop with. If nothing else, she is highly efficient and brutally honesty, which meant I had a pretty good chance of finding the right dress for my art show. When she said that she too wanted to buy something new for the show, I was surprised and secretly flattered. It meant a lot to me that she was taking my exhibition seriously, and not as if she was going to my kindergarten open house. Since I just had my religion class, my final project was fresh on my mind, so I decided to talk to Sarah about it.

  “What?!” Sarah responded.

  “Just answer me without the sass, do you or don’t you believe in an afterlife?” I asked again.

  “Jeez,” Sarah said as she came out of the fitting room, “that’s a bit random, isn’t it?”

  “Why is it so hard to get an answer out of you today?”

  “I don’t know Aria, I never really gave it any thought. But if you really want an answer, I’d say no. We die. It’s over. That’s it,” she said, analyzing herself in the mirror. “More importantly,” she added, “what do you think of this dress on me?”

  The dress was a bit too short, but Sarah didn’t mind baring her legs. She looked great in any case. “I love it,” I replied and got back on track. “It’s actually not random. This assignment I’m working on has me thinking about this stuff.”

  “I’m not really a believer,” she said, fussing with the hem.

  “Don’t you find it hard to believe that our souls just disappear after our heart stops beating? Like, don’t you think it’s possible they’re actually separate? That maybe we were something before we were Sarah and Aria, and we will be something after we die?”

  “Aria, you’re freaking me out. I just wanted to shop with you and get a nice dress for the art show. I don’t really wa
nt to think about death and dying!” She chuckled and went back into her fitting room.

  “Okay, then get back out here and tell me what you think of this,” she poked her head out and smiled, “Woah! Hot! I LOVE it!”

  “Really?!” I said, excited that she seemed to approve. “It’s not too sexy?”

  “Aria, it’s your show. If it makes you feel good, go for it! You look incredible!” She gave me a thumbs up and disappeared again.

  I looked in the mirror. I felt great in the dress. It was form fitting, short, off-white with a cap sleeve and the whole dress was covered with tiny sequins with a scooped back. It was sexy, elegant, and would certainly shock anyone who has ever seen me in my normal wardrobe of jeans and flannel. I loved it. I put on the strappy four-inch black heels the store gave me to try with the dress and I instantly felt more glamorous than I ever imagined I could.

  Sarah was coming out of her fitting room with an arm full of rejects when she stopped and simply said, “Um. You are so totally getting that whole outfit.”

  I carefully took the dress off, put it back on the hanger and went straight to the cash register to pay for the dress and shoes. We spent another hour in the mall and Sarah eventually found her perfect dress too. The discussion about afterlife, I realized, would have to wait until I was with Owen again.

  “I think you’re going to love the dress I bought,” I typed to Owen when I got home.

  “Dress? For what? Our wedding? ;)” He replied

  “Yes, for our wedding. Is that ok?” I smiled as I typed.

  “For sure! Did you have a date in mind?”

  “ASAP of course — why would we wait?” I played along.

  “Well, I can think of one reason...”

  I was curious what he would come up with “...yes?...”

  “So I can fall even more in love with you than I already am.”

  My heart raced and I’m sure my breathing stopped. I didn’t know what to say or do. Stunned, I wrote back, “WOW. good reason.”

  “Now when can I see you, so I can tell you that I love you?”

  “I think you just did!” I said, freaking out inside.

  “Not the same.”

  “Tomorrow after school?” I proposed.

  “Yes,” he wrote.

  “See you tomorrow.” I replied, wanting to end the perfect conversation right there. I was floored. I was elated. I was in love.

  The next day at school, I didn’t see Owen at lunch because I had a yearbook committee meeting during our lunch hour. So, by the time I got to my World Religion class, he was there, laptop open, waiting for me. We stared at one another intensely, smiling. Mr. Rauch was giving us class time to work on our projects and I was excited to talk to Owen about our topic.

  Unlike Sarah, Owen was deeply intrigued by the different philosophies of afterlife and seemed to enjoy the process of exploring the possibilities. As he talked, I noticed he was speaking faster than normal, and his face was flushed. He was passionate and focused. It was like he was looking for answers...desperately.

  We decided to construct a chart that would outline the philosophical differences between the major religions. The chart was huge and needed to be rolled out on the floor, so we sat in a corner of the class where we could work without disturbing anyone else. Taking turns, we filled in all the boxes with bullet notes. Sitting so close to him, I found myself lost in the idea of souls, karma, and energy. I felt transported as we talked and shifted around one another.

  We were both frustrated when Mr. Rauch said it was time to pack up. Owen and I decided that our afterschool date would take place back at his place where we could continue working on the project. I think we both knew that the conversation would also eventually turn to be about the two of us. The anticipation of sharing our feelings in that way was almost too much to take.

  Later, in his family room, after we said hello to Amy, we grabbed a snack and resumed our work. “Aria, I just don’t believe that our souls just disappear when we die. It doesn’t make sense to me. If I’m totally honest, I NEED to believe that there is much more to us after we die. How else could I deal with my parents’ deaths if I didn’t believe that, right?”

  “Totally. Owen, in my heart of hearts, I know there’s more. I’m not just saying that to make you feel better. I really believe it. How small-minded would it be for us to think that our physical being is it?” I said.

  “Small-minded. Yes, exactly. The concepts of soul and karma and afterlife all make sense to me, way more than everything I’ve ever learned to be true,” he shared.

  “I feel the same,” I nodded, “I think the Eastern religions have it right. They’re more spiritual, more open-ended. The Western religions seem too compartmentalized — heaven or hell, or nothing at all?”

  “Yeah, don’t you sometimes feel that you feel the spirit of others?” I could tell when he asked me that question he was being careful not to sound too out there. I wasn’t sure if he was specifically thinking of his parents, or something else.

  I took a risk, but I felt like he opened the door, “Owen, I’m not just saying this — I feel something in you differently than I do others.” I looked at him, with tears just below the surface, wanting to come out. I stopped short of telling him that I believed he was my soul mate. But that’s how I felt from the moment I met him.

  “Aria, that’s why I love you.” He paused, looking at me with a vulnerability that I had never felt from anyone before. Then he continued, “I feel like I know you so differently than anyone I’ve ever met. Like I’ve known you forever. Like you’re here just for me.” He leaned over, shut his eyes, and kissed me so softly on the lips. When he looked at me again I was crying. He kissed me again and pulled me in so closely. I felt his heart beating against mine.

  We lay together on the couch not wanting to move a muscle, together wanting to stay forever in that embrace. I found my mind drifting to thoughts of my dreams: the only other time I felt so loved and so connected to someone. But this wasn’t a dream. Owen was real, and he was mine. I said, as if hearing my own voice for the first time in my life, “Owen, I love you too.”

  The weekend came, and I sequestered myself from human life as I focused on finishing my art. I did nothing more than eat, sleep and paint over a 48-hour period. The series was almost complete, and I had twelve canvases in all. As I was putting the finishing touches on the last canvas, I stood back and circled around the easel. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it didn’t seem complete. I felt there was something left unpainted... I thought about my dreams, the feelings, and the story I was telling through my art. It was a story of love and adventure, but it seemed like an unfinished story. I paced around the room feeling somewhat out of sorts, not knowing how to deal with my artistic dilemma. How could I be satisfied with something that didn’t feel completed? Ultimately, I decided to call the series “Unfinished love”. In doing so, I gave myself license to leave it incomplete. After all, if my dreams had not revealed any more, there was nothing more to paint.

  It was an overwhelming feeling to stand back and look at what I had created. There were my dreams in living color! I had not shared the process or details of my dreams with anyone — not my mom, dad, Sarah, Dani or Owen, so it would be a surprise to everyone. I was filled with anticipation and stress, hoping that my art would be well-received and understood by those who love me. My art was a reflection of me from deep inside; a place no one quite knew, and a place I was discovering.

  Part Three

  CHAPTER 12

  The day of the show finally came. All I could think was how the bride must feel on her wedding day. I would be the center of attention, along with my mom, and this was not a place I was comfortable being. Even looking my best, I could never be comfortable with all eyes on me. But then I had to remind myself, it was the art everyone was coming to see, not the artist.

  My mom had draped the gallery, separating the space in half: Mother/Daughter. For our benefit, she closed the drape so that we coul
d install our own canvases in the morning with the team of professional picture hangers. This allowed each of us privacy, until we were ready for the reveal to each other, well before the show opening at 6pm. She thought of everything!

  By noon, we had both finished the installation and were ready for the reveal. First, I went to her side. She took my hand as we walked through, not saying a word. Energy and color were leaping off her abstract canvases. There was a story of optimism inside despair, order inside chaos, and beauty inside the mundane. It was powerful, and I was speechless. “Wow, I’m amazed by your talent,” I said as we just stood there for a couple more minutes staring at the canvas in front of us. “I love you, Mama.”

  “I love you too, my sweet girl. Now it’s your turn...”

  This time it was I who took my mother’s hand and led her through my side of the gallery. She stopped at certain pieces and analyzed them a bit longer than others, sighed a lot (in a good way), and when she was done she turned to me and said, “Aria, you’re in love.” My jaw dropped, and I asked her what she meant. “I mean, you have captured the feelings of love so vividly in your art. I feel it so strongly. And there’s no way you could have painted these if you didn’t feel those feelings of love. They are magnificent, and they are alive!” We hugged again before heading home to get ready.