Down from the Clouds (The Unspoken Series)

by Grey, Marilyn

  I told myself I'd find her. Ran out the door that night. Up and down the street. Nowhere. Pop told me to keep trying. To never give up. He said, "When you know you know, and when I met your grandmother the world stopped. That's how you know it's the lady you want to spend the rest of your life with. When the world stops and all you see is her."

  Ella's voice carried my thoughts away.

  "What'd you say?" I said, taking her hand in mine.

  "What are you thinking?"

  "Just about you. That night I first saw you and thought I'd never see you again. My pop telling me to never give up. To fight until I bled to find you. And then searching for years to no avail, wondering if I was ridiculous. Watching Braveheart one too many times with Matt. Feeling this ache because while all of those William Wallace speeches were amazing, the thing I could never get out of my head was that all of those things he did, it was all for her. The one he loved. The one they took from him. He fought so hard for her. I wanted someone to fight for too. But you were beginning to feel like a fantasy, not real life." She reclined in my lap and looked up at me. I ran my fingers through her hair, down her neck. "I was so close to giving up."

  "Good thing I let that news lady interview me that night."

  "I came home that night from a long day of feeling like a nobody. Matt and Lydia were all curled up on the couch. I was happy for them, but man did I wish they were on her couch instead. Then I saw your face. I knew right away. When I ran out the door I felt like a roller-coaster just about to tip over the biggest hill."

  She sat up and faced me. Inches from my face. The love of my life. I waited for her to lean in. To let me love her. But she stayed there, her sweet minty breath on my lips, looking into my eyes, to a place no one had ever seen before.

  She saw through my mask. No one except ole Pop could do that. And even he couldn't give me chills like Ella could. One glance of her eyes is all it took. And this was far more than a glance.

  I broke eye contact. Looked down at her chest, rising and falling so close to mine.

  "What's in the envelope?" she said, eyes still on me.

  "The envelope? Can't we have a romantic moment where we talk about our storybook beginning and how we want to have two boys and two girls and keep the story going?"

  "This is romantic to me. Getting to know you. Seeing you dig up things you’ve kept inside because no one climbed deep enough to pry it out of you. I'm climbing. And I'll keep climbing until I free whatever part of you that you've hidden from the rest of us."

  "You are a determined one, aren't you?"

  "I am known for that."

  We smiled.

  "I'm really not hiding anything. I told you about my mom and dad. That's pretty much everything."

  "Except that envelope."

  "Well, even I don't know what's in that."

  "Don't you think it's time you did?"

  "No."

  She laughed. "Can I read the first two he wrote you?"

  "If you want."

  "I do."

  "Okay."

  Things got crazy with Matt and Lydia’s wedding. Ella was a bridesmaid and the cake maker. I was the best man and cake maker’s taste tester. Before we had much time to blink the wedding snuck up on us, giving Ella enough distractions to forget about the envelopes from Pop. I knew the time would come eventually, but I really didn't want to explain why one of my biggest regrets in life involved her.

  Ella and I parted ways to get ready for the wedding. Her best friend Sarah picked her up since she was asked to be the photographer. And she's a great photographer. We met in art school and became good friends. I still can't believe Ella was right there all along. I'm not one for believing in God, but the way life was orchestrated sometimes, well, it really made me wonder.

  I arrived at Matt's house before anyone else. Like a good best man should. He opened the door happier than a kid on his birthday.

  "It's about time you and Lydia tie the knot." I walked inside and shut the door.

  "I wrote a song for her. I'm going to play it as she walks down the aisle. She has no idea."

  "She'll love it. She's been wanting you to write a song for her since the day she first saw you play."

  "I know. I just had too many issues."

  "Yes. And now that this is all in the past, can you look back and figure out why on earth you had issues marrying a beautiful woman who loves you more than anyone else ever has?"

  We sat on the couches across from each other. He spread his legs and tapped his knee.

  "Well," he said. "Probably my lack of commitment and decision skills, mixed with a little bit of fear."

  "Fear of what?"

  "The unknown and the too familiar."

  "And that means?"

  "The unknown would be having kids, paying bills, being stuck with other people to care for and a self-employed business that has its bad months."

  "And the too familiar?"

  "Growing so used to someone and fearing I might wake up one day and realize I'm bored and want a change."

  I nodded. "Interesting."

  Someone knocked on the door. Matt stood. "Hey, I'm honest."

  "That's true."

  "You mean you never think that?"

  "Not in the slightest."

  "Man, and I thought I had ideals."

  He opened the door. His family came in and hugged him. I waited, then stood to greet them. His mom hugged me and whispered, "I'm so happy for you too." His dad shook my hand without much emotion and walked into the dining room, out of sight. Most awkward person I've ever met. You wonder how the man had children when he can't seem to shake a person's hand without beelining for the soap.

  Matt's older brother, Michael, shook my hand. "Nice seeing you again. Been a while."

  "Yeah," I said. "How's everything going?"

  "It's going."

  His younger sister, Miranda, patted my back and gave me a hug. "Gavin, I can't believe it's been so long."

  “Hey, Miranda. I know. I've been so busy. It's really no excuse."

  "Oh, I go by Randy now."

  "Is that to match your new orange hair?"

  "My hair changes almost weekly. I have to keep it exciting."

  "I can see that. Must take after Matt, huh?"

  "Why do you say that? Matt's about as boring as it gets."

  I laughed.

  "This is my boyfriend." She pointed to the guy beside her, complete with high-water skin tight jeans and, why yes, it appeared to be makeup on his face.

  I extended my hand. "Gavin."

  "I'm Kennedy." He shook my hand and practically cut off my blood flow.

  "So, Mira—I mean, Randy. What's with the new name? Trying to escape from the ties of Miranda and turn into a super hero?"

  "Eh." She laughed. "I like to think of it as growing. An adult has strong, huge bones compared to a baby. While they may be the same bones you had since birth, they sure do look different."

  "Interesting. I guess I see the point."

  "Don't strain too hard," she said. "Might hurt yourself."

  Matt walked over with his youngest brother, Max, who stared off behind me as he twiddled his thumbs.

  “Max, buddy. How's it been?"

  He tried to smile. Made a sound, then jumped up and down.

  "How old are you going to be next week?" I said, noticing the Lion King book in his hands.

  "Tell Gavin how excited you are for your sixteenth birthday," Matt said, knowing as well as I did that Max stopped talking when he turned three and hadn't made a peep since.

  Smiling and putting Simba as close to his eyes as possible, he jumped in place again. I gave him a hug. He accepted, but didn't hug back. The only way Max expressed love was in his smile and the way he jumped up and down or banged hangers together. That meant happiness. Sadness or frustration generally involved banging his head on the nearest hard surface or ripping something into a thousand pieces at a frantic pace. I only saw that happen twice and I felt hopeless. Can't i
magine how Mrs. Ryan must have felt.

  She walked back over. "Well, boys. Ready for the big day?"

  Matt smiled. "As long as Gavin doesn't lose the ring, we're good."

  "And that is likely." I checked my pocket to make sure. "You know me well."

  I stood facing rows of eager faces. They chose a beautiful place to get married. It used to be an old mansion, but someone bought it and turned into an overly romantic wedding ceremony and reception place. The entire ceiling on the top floor was removed and replaced with a glass ceiling, along with glass walls. The star-filled December sky and the Philadelphia skyline was all you could see. I looked around the room, lit only be the soft glow of candles. Amazing how candlelight could warm even the hardest faces.

  Matt's foot shook under his piano bench as the flower girls walked to the sound of my gorgeous Ella playing the violin. She wore deep red down to her ankles like the bridesmaids who came in after the girls. Hair down, curled, and pearl earrings dangling from her left ear. She alway had her hair behind her left ear, never the right. The bridesmaids positioned themselves across from us and Lydia stood at the white and red rose-laden opening meant to be the door.

  She looked like Arwen in Lord of the Rings. Poet sleeves hung to the floor. Long crinkled dress flowed far behind her and followed her as she moved. Wavy hair to her elbows. Smile catching the tears dripping from her eyelashes. I never understood why women spent so much money and time on their makeup for their wedding when they ended up washing it off before they even got to the groom.

  Matt smiled as his fingers graced the keys and his voice echoed through the room.

  I found myself surrounded by darkness,

  and the future looked so grim.

  It was as if someone turned the light off

  and I didn't know where to begin.

  I was falling at every turn,

  looking for your smile,

  but I hadn't seen the truth and light

  till I looked back in your eyes.

  Can you take the hand of this blind man?

  With you I can finally see.

  With our hands held together,

  we will walk in harmony.

  And if I ever loose my way again

  I’ll know just where to turn.

  Back to you my guiding light

  for you, my sweet one, this heart of mine does yearn.

  And now that we are standing together

  with our life about to begin,

  I can feel the warmth of the sun shine on

  with open hearts the love floods in.

  As I stand with you face-to-face,

  looking at your smile,

  I know nothing else could be this right.

  Our future starts tonight.

  Can you take the hand of this blind man?

  With you I can finally see.

  With our hands held together

  we will walk in harmony.

  And if I ever loose my way again

  I’ll know just where to turn.

  Back to you my guiding light

  for you, my sweet one, this heart of mine does yearn.

  Let's away my love,

  Let the world fade fast.

  I'll swear by heaven above,

  this love of ours will last.

  Now … take the hands of this blind man,

  to you I pledge my life,

  to love you faithfully,

  I'm counting myself as blessed to call you my wife.

  Lydia stopped three feet away from me, kissed her dad on the cheek, and left his arm to join Matt's. He stood from the piano and took her hands. His smile could've broken his jaw if it were any wider. Lydia couldn't stop crying, but I can't tell you much after that because my eyes never left the picture of Ella standing across from me, staring right back.

  She stood beside the bridesmaids, hands clasped in front of her, green eyes shining in the candlelight. I smiled at her and mouthed, "I love you." She held up her pinky and mouthed, "I love you more."

  During the rest of the ceremony the world disappeared as I stared at the most beautiful thing to walk into my life. I couldn't wait to marry her. To call her my own.

  Chapter Four

  While Matt and Lydia spent their honeymoon on the hills of New Zealand—yes, a tribute to Lord of the Rings—Ella and I bought new furniture for our house and picked paint colors for every room.

  I have to say, and I'm not bragging here. Well, maybe a little. It amazed me how we agreed on so many things. I always imagined arguments or disagreements when it came time to decorate a house with my new wife, but not with Ella. Honestly, it was probably because she didn't care about that kind of thing. The complete opposite of Lydia in every way, but now that I thought of it, she reminded me a lot of Matt.

  Interesting.

  I shook the thought and turned to Ella. "I can't believe you don't have more of an opinion about the house considering your skills with Chances.”

  She shrugged. "It's kind of like my face. I can make it look better if I want to, but there's rarely a moment that I want to."

  I laughed. "Unique way of life there. Not sure many women could relate."

  "Well, as long as you don't care, I definitely don't."

  "I like your natural beauty. I'd take real over accentuated beauty any day."

  "Not sure many men could relate to you either, then. You'd never miss the fact that your guy friends would never consider your wife sexy?"

  "Pssh . . . are you kidding me? You’ve always said I’m the only man that should see that side of you, and I can’t help but love that idea.”

  She kissed my cheek. "You're a sweet one. If I didn't know better I'd say you were a good liar."

  "There's not much I'm good at, to be honest."

  "Oh, right. You can't fake humility with me. You're paintings are better than Monet, your music writing skills are way better than anything on the radio”—she twirled around the room—“your house decorating abilities. There's so much. Not to mention you are quite handsome."

  I took her hand. "Dance with me."

  My phone beeped. She looked up at me as we slow danced under the chandelier in the empty dining room. My phone beeped again.

  "You can get it," she said.

  "You know how I feel about letting technology interfere with life."

  It beeped again.

  "Might be important."

  "Nothing is important enough."

  I took it out to silence it and saw a bazillion missed calls from Matt. Not like him to call so much. They must've been back already.

  "It's Matt," I said. "Maybe I will call him back. Is that okay?"

  "More than okay."

  She unpacked a box as I dialed.

  "Gavin," he said. "Did you see the news?"

  "What news? Are you back already?"

  "We're on the way home from the airport. When we were there I saw something on the news. You never told me your dad went missing."

  "You never asked."

  "Well, he's not missing anymore."

  My stomach rose to my mouth. I waited to hear those words since I was five. Other dads dropped their kids off at school, taught them to ride a bike, tie their shoes, and fly kites. Not mine. He disappeared and chose to desert me. I told myself I'd never let him back in. I wished he were dead. I didn't want him to show up again. I didn't want to face what he did to me. I didn't want a dad.

  "Are you sure it's him?"

  Ella stopped and looked up at me.

  "Has to be. He said he came back because of his dad’s health and he wanted to meet his son, who happens to be named Gavin Kessler."

  "Okay."

  "We'll talk later. Check the news."

  "I'd rather not."

  "How do you feel about it?"

  "I don't."

  "Right. The ever mysterious wonder."

  We hung up and Ella inched toward me. "Your dad is back?"

  "Apparently."

  "And you don't want to meet hi
m?"

  "No."

  She sensed my defensiveness. I didn't want to take it out on her. Didn't want her to see the anger and bitterness I held inside because of that man, that man who decided after three decades of lost memories he was going to show up and apologize and have a son again? No way in hell.

  Ella touched my arm, kissed my neck, and whispered in my ear. "I'm here if you want to talk."

  I didn't. "I'm sorry. I just don't think I want to give him the honor of being talked about."

  She pressed her cheek against mine and wrapped her arms around my neck. "I love you."

  "I love you, too."

  There are many sides to all of us. There's the side we show the world. The one that cleans up a messy house before guests arrive, but not for our own spouse. The one that holds a phone in front of our faces for hours, snapping a thousand pictures until we find one good enough for Facebook. This is the side we want others to see. Then there's the real side of us. The side of us buried inside that few people find. Some of us pretend to reveal our true colors. We pride ourselves in being "authentic" and "transparent," touting our flaws like there's no tomorrow, except we choose the flaws we want to show the world in our "transparency." What a joke, really.

  Then there's the side no one knows, not even ourselves. The side we suppress and shove so deep inside that we forget about it. Meeting this side of myself didn't appeal to me. Scared the life out of me. I didn't want to find flaws I didn't know existed. Real flaws that I didn't want to parade around. These are the things that make us who we are, the very things we want to hide from everyone around us as we pretend to be someone else. Someone we wish we could be, and all the while miss out on living our own life, real life.

  I don't know about you, or anyone else for that matter, but for me it felt safe to hide behind the person I wished I could be. It was easier. Joy could be turned on like a light switch. I liked life this way. The idea of my boat being shaken by a storm at sea didn't appeal to me. Ye of little faith.