The Angelic Occurrence

by Henry K. Ripplinger

  “I hope the kitchen has the Minestrone soup on today. It’s delicious and so is the grilled cheese with Pesto and tomatoes. I would never have thought up that combination.”

  “Matthew is a good cook and a creative one at that.”

  As Ivania continued to talk about another dish she enjoyed, Henry checked her hand and didn’t see any ring. He had noted that the last two times she had been in, but wanted to make doubly sure once more as his heart was beating fast at the thought of perhaps asking her out for dinner. To the best of his recollection, Ivania had never mentioned that she was married. He could tell she was a lot younger than he was, but the way she looked at him when their eyes met simply said, ‘I’m interested in you.’

  “I noticed that you haven’t been in for awhile, Ivania.”

  “Yes, the man I have been seeing for the last four years had a tragic and fatal accident over two months ago. He was a mining engineer and he along with two of his colleagues and the pilot were killed in northern Saskatchewan when flying up there to inspect a Uranium mine. The plane crashed in the wilderness and it took the search party over two weeks to locate them. There were no survivors.”

  Ivania’s eyes teared up and she softly whispered, “We were to wed in the fall.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Ivania.” Henry wanted to reach over and touch her hand, but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. He noticed the line up at the door and thought he better start assisting the hostess.

  “Thank you for letting me join you, Ivania. I better help seat the customers. I’ll send a waiter over right away to take your order.”

  Henry reached forward and touched Ivania’s hand, turned and left.

  From that day on, the relationship between Henry and Ivania changed.

  While Henry considered it more of a close friendship, he sensed that Ivania considered it more seriously.

  Henry shook his head as he recalled how Ivania had come into his life, almost at the same time as feelings for Jenny had started to resurface. What did it all mean? It was all so confusing. I don’t know what I’m feeling anymore.

  Chapter Five

  Two days later, Jenny and her lawyer waited in the courtroom. James and his entourage had set up shop at the table opposite. It bothered Jenny deeply that their marriage had come to this. What hurt her even more was the presence of her son sitting next to his father; such a defiant act against her. At least the other day when J.J. was called as a witness, he sat in the public pews, but today, he sat at the same table as his father. The sight of seeing her son put in such a position that he would have to choose between his mother and father was almost too much for Jenny to bear.

  What have I done wrong for my son to have such a blatant disregard for my feelings? I tried to be a good mother in the little time I was allotted with him. Jenny swallowed hard trying to hold back her tears.

  Jenny saw J.J. cast quick, furtive glances her way. She could sense that underneath his bold exterior he was troubled by all this. She felt for him and loved him deeply. He was so much like James and, yet, what was their relationship really like? Was it really love and loyalty that J.J. felt towards his father or was it fear? That was how James controlled everyone around him: he instilled fear.

  J.J. had witnessed what happened to executives who violated their loyalty, how quickly they were terminated and at times, even blackballed from ever finding another job in the city. Jenny felt certain J.J. would never cross his father out of fear that he would meet the same fate as these unfortunate men.

  It was just a natural spillover from everyday observation of events, but then again, J.J. knew his ultimate destiny and purpose in the whole scheme of things. He knew he had been groomed from the day of his birth, like some prince born into a royal family; he knew that his destiny was to take command of an empire. And every fibre of his body knew that he could never jeopardize that utmost goal and consummate expectation of him.

  “All rise. His Honour, Judge Gerian presiding.”

  The judge entered from a door behind the bench. Everyone stood until His Honour was seated.

  “Please be seated,” directed the court attendant.

  Judge Gerian waited until everyone had taken their seats and all the shuffling had died down. He started to speak, then stopped and looked at James’ table and then at Jenny’s for a long moment. He seemed almost hesitant to state his decision. He looked down at his notes, tightened his lips then slowly looked up.

  “The decision I have made, comes after much thought and deliberation. What didn’t come out in the proceedings was why the relationship was estranged and why Mrs. Hamilton didn’t leave earlier on. I assume Mrs. Hamilton stayed for the sake of her son. In this case, however, such information or knowledge would not have helped the court.

  “Normally in divorce proceedings an equitable division of assets is sought which is fair to both parties. This should be the case for a marriage that has gone on for over 21 years. As a result I would be remiss if I didn’t come to a decision which was favourable to you both.

  “However, as Mr. Neels pointed out in his summation and I have already alluded to as well, this marriage relationship was not normal. It is hard to believe that no assets were accumulated outside of the company in both your names and for Mr. Hamilton not to have acquired a large savings account, shares outside of the company or personal investments. It is unfortunate that Mrs. Hamilton did not question this earlier on and the way in which the Spousal agreement was structured to shelter Mr. Hamilton’s shares. Better yet, had she the foresight that her husband would keep everything within the business and trusts, it would have been wise on her part not to have signed the Spousal Agreement. ”

  James’ lawyers started to talk and laugh amongst themselves. They could see where the judge was heading and smugly congratulate James.

  “Order, order in the court!”

  Silence prevailed at once as Judge Gerian looked compassionately at Mrs. Hamilton and went on. “I thought that I could make the division of the estate more equitable by making a claim on the property on which you lived. However, I know that if I were to decide to make such an order, Mr. Hamilton would immediately appeal my decision based on the law surrounding the Spousal Agreement you signed prior to your marriage. Should he lose, again, it is my sense of human nature, that Mr. Hamilton will appeal until the court decides to grant him his due rights under the law. It is my regrettable decision therefore, to save you further heartache and expense—”

  James Hamilton’s lawyers chattered amongst themselves and shifted noticeably in their seats. Judge Gerian immediately restored silence with the wave of his hand.

  Returning his gaze to Mrs. Hamilton, his voice once again compassionate, the judge continued.

  “To save you from further grief and expense, which you will now find yourself very limited to, I cannot order Mr. Hamilton to give you any more than the settlement he has offered. It is my sincere hope that some understanding and consideration will be extended to you by your husband and he finds it within him to be generous and fair towards you.

  “Certainly after 21 years, there must be some feeling towards each other, some obligation, some debt, some commitment, and some responsibility. I ask you both to work out a solution which reflects what I have just said and to reach within your hearts to be kind to each other.”

  The judge’s sympathetic look for Jenny turned into a stern gaze as he rested his eyes on Mr. Hamilton. He seemed to want to say more, but thought better of it. He picked up his gavel and reluctantly, weakly let it fall, its sound so soft it was barely audible. In a tone which carried dissatisfaction with his decision, he almost disgustedly declared, “Court is adjourned.”

  As Judge Gerian left the bench, the hooting and hollering resumed at James Hamilton’s table. Jenny had tears in her eyes, as she looked over at the scene. It was her son placing his hand on his dad’s shoulder, patting it as if to s
ay, “Way to go Dad” that pierced Jenny’s heart as if with a knife.

  Jenny’s lawyer turned to her and apologized for the outcome.

  “My hands were tied, if it weren’t for the Spousal Agreem—”

  “Shush,” interrupted Jenny, “it’s okay, I was too naïve and trusting. But isn’t everyone when they’re young and in love?”

  “It’s that no-good husband of yours. He has no heart, never did, and never will. You’re better off without him.”

  As soon as her lawyer said those words, Jenny recalled the heeding her father gave her years ago. It seemed like forever, now. “Go out with other boys. It’s the only way to compare hearts, Jenny. You may see things in others that are not in James. I have seen too many business types like him…” He had tried to warn her of what was to come. He had seen it. Unfortunately, she had just laughed off his prophecy.

  “It’s all too late now, Dad,” she muttered under her breath.

  “What was that, Mrs. Hamilton?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing, Alan. Just thinking about some advice a very important someone in my life once gave me and foolishly, I didn’t heed it.”

  As Jenny walked to her car, she couldn’t shake her father’s words of encouragement for her to go out with other boys.

  “Why didn’t I?” reflected Jenny. “Come to think of it, there were only two men in my life, James and Henry.”

  Jenny always felt guilty when her mind drifted back all those years to when she was young and so much in love with the boy next door. She now allowed her mind to go there. There was no further need to suppress those thoughts and remain obligated to James. There was no more James in her life. In a way Jenny felt relieved, she was free again.

  As Jenny slipped into her car, the liberation she felt moments ago was replaced by loneliness. She needed a hug, to feel she was loved and the only person who immediately surfaced to her mind yet again was Henry, her first and, yes, her only real love.

  “I know he is married, has a family and is happy. And yet, I wonder why he never answered any of the letters I sent him? I thought we were so in love.”

  Jenny leaned back against the hot leather seat warmed by the afternoon sun. She recalled how they first met in Mr. Engelmann’s grocery store. She had seen him come in and duck behind one of the aisles so he wouldn’t see her stare. She smiled as he knocked over the stack of salmon tins at the end of the aisle and thought how it would be a perfect way to meet him by helping him pick up the tins.

  “I think from the moment I looked into his green eyes, I loved him.”

  Jenny thought about the dates they’d had, the notes they wrote to each other and how their love grew deeper and deeper as the summer passed.

  “And poor Mom, how concerned she got about us, getting so close, seeing too much of each other, worried that I might get pregnant…” Jenny whispered. She smiled as she recalled the time they nearly made love in the park.

  “Oh, how I wish we had! Perhaps then, things might have been different. Perhaps then, Henry and I would have eventually married and… Oh, Jenny! Those days are over and long gone. This is all just wishful thinking now.”

  Jenny put the key into the ignition and started the convertible. And just before she put her – or, rather, James’ – BMW into gear, she thought about the letters.

  “When we moved to Ottawa, Henry and I promised to write to each other. I kept my promise. I wrote so many letters to him and he never answered one of them. Not even one.”

  She stomped on the gas so hard that the tires squealed as the car thrust backwards with a sudden burst of acceleration. She sensed a release of pent up emotions as frustration and anger came to the fore. She wasn’t sure towards whom she should direct them? James? Her son? Herself? Henry for not writing? If only he had written, things might have been different.

  “Life can be so cruel.”

  Such a thought was usually alien to Jenny. She loved life, but somehow life hadn’t reciprocated. She took a deep breath and as she expelled more tension, a tear rolled down her cheek and then another. All the suppressed emotions from the last few days surfaced. But it was the thoughts of Henry, her realization that her first love still lay buried deep within her heart, that brought it all to the fore. If only he were not married.

  Jenny slowly drove home, sobbing uncontrollably, helplessly. She so needed to love and be loved. Her only solace was to immerse herself in feelings of nostalgic regret over a love that should have been.

  The next day, Jenny got her diary from the secret drawer in the living room and made her way through the kitchen to the grounds out back. The house seemed so empty and lonely since Matilda and Charles had left. For days and months after, Jenny’s heart yearned to have them back. But, true to form, James had taken away from Jenny anything and everything that gave her joy.

  Matilda had been an especially loyal and close friend. They would have conversations that sisters would share. Matilda knew about Jenny’s diary. Jenny shivered when she remembered the morning when, in her haste to get ready for school, she’d left her diary on the end table in the living room intending to put it in the secret desk drawer after her shower, but forgot. Later that afternoon James had popped in unexpected, saw it and picked it up. Matilda came into the room just as he was about to open it.

  “Oh, that be mine, Mr. Hamilton,” Matilda quickly intervened. “I be keepin’ my favourite recipes in there. I was showing some of them to Mrs. Hamilton, just this very morning.” She bravely walked over and took it from James’ hand and dashed back into the kitchen.

  They’d nervously laughed over that incident so many times. Had James opened the diary he would have known so many of her secrets. It would have been catastrophic for Jenny and Matilda if James had read the diary.

  Jenny stepped out into the morning air and was greeted by a swarm of Monarch butterflies. Their wings seemed to be fluttering more rapidly just at the sight of her. To Jenny the Monarchs were like angels flitting about. She often thought that one of them was her friend, Tammy, coming in disguise to pay her a visit. She reached up and one quickly settled on the palm of her hand. Perhaps this one was her friend, Jenny mused. In a few short weeks the Monarchs would begin their long trek back to Mexico and she would be leaving too. Not as far, but she would miss the beauty of it all.

  If it had not been for the grounds with its array of flowers, the butterflies and beautiful landscaping, she would have left long ago. However, the pleasure and peace of nature, the scent in the air filled with the natural perfume of all the flowers and pungent smell of herbs still gave her enough comfort and relief to stay. And at the heart of it all was the Angel of Thanksgiving. She never failed to fill Jenny with peace and joy. How many times when the storms of life were closing in on her was she lifted back into the light by her angel? She could never thank her father enough for commissioning such a beautiful gift for her. Whenever she sat in the angel’s presence, she felt her father’s love.

  Jenny loved to walk along the winding path feasting her eyes on the beauty before her. Wherever she turned, different plants and flowers bloomed. Just as one flower stopped flowering another would bloom to take its place. From early spring to late fall the grounds glowed with the scent and beauty of a kaleidoscope of colours. Thomas was an artistic landscape genius. He knew God’s creation better than his own name.

  She wondered where Thomas was?

  “Oh, I hope and pray James didn’t let him go, too,” Jenny muttered. She felt instant relief to see the top of his head bobbing up and down as he trimmed one of the hedges. She loved Thomas as much as Matilda. They both had such a kind manner and way about them. Their words were so calming and peaceful. They truly were special servants of God.

  The wildflower patch never looked better. Her spirits lifted at the sight of the morning dew glistening with the healing essence of the flowers. Jenny bent down and picked a buttercup before entering the gazebo.
She smelled the flower and, like the butterflies, licked the moisture off its petals as she sat in her chair and began to swing.

  The Angel of Thanksgiving looked so brilliant, too, as the sun bounced off the gleaming white marble. She thought of the morning she first saw it and how it had emerged out of the mist as a luminous apparition. She thought for sure she had died and gone to heaven. It was such a precious gift from the staff to show their love and support for her. It was so amazing how the statue had found its way back to her. Tears filled Jenny’s eyes over the miracle of the statue seemingly created and brought to her out of the love and friendship of those around her. A tear fell from her cheek onto the open diary. She brushed it away with her finger and wrote:

  Aug. 3, 1986

  In another two days I shall leave this beautiful garden. Thank you Lord for all the joy and solace Your creation has given to me. I shall especially miss the people here and the support and comfort they have shown. Thank you too for James, the comfort of his home, this heavenly garden and our son. Someday perhaps, James will stop his race to own the world and enjoy the treasure that is right under his nose.

  Jenny rose, still holding that latter thought in her mind, and picked a beautiful array of flowers from the wildflower patch. She especially loved the Blue flax, Baby Blue Eyes, Cornflower, and Sweet Alyssum in the mix.

  “Oh, I better add a Forget-Me-Not. There. This looks so lovely, perhaps the best combination I have ever put together.” She placed the bouquet in the angel’s basket. “This is for you, James. Thank you for allowing me to share your garden. This is truly the best gift you have given me in all the years of our marriage. Above all else, I choose to remember this part of our relationship. I offer it up to you now in thanksgiving and pray that someday you will derive the great joy and happiness it has given to me.”

  Jenny rested her hand on the angel’s arm for support and stood on her tiptoes to kiss the angel on the cheek. She allowed her hand to slide down the smooth arm of the angel holding the basket, her hand eventually falling on the flowers she had just put there. She patted the bouquet and softly and ever so gently whispered, “For you, James, just for you.”