The Color of a Memory

by Julianne MacLean

  A look of recognition flickered in the woman’s eyes and she took a breath. “I’m sorry,” she said. “This is awkward.”

  “I’ll say.”

  What was she doing here? Had she come to present herself to Jean as Alex’s one true love?

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, my tone dripping with accusation.

  “I came to meet Jean and Garry,” she replied. “They invited me.”

  “They did? My God.” I wished suddenly that I had confided in Jean on the phone and told her the truth about Alex and the picture I’d found in the car.

  Who knows what this woman might have said to them. I didn’t trust her one iota because she’d already proven she lacked integrity. That had become obvious the moment she slept with another woman’s husband and was eager to become a home wrecker.

  I looked down at the little girl in the car and shivered at the possibility that she might belong to Alex. Did she have his eyes? His smile?

  Then I noticed a man sitting in the driver’s seat. He leaned across the passenger seat with his head tilted to look up at me.

  He was curious. Probably because I was speaking in heated tones.

  “Who’s that?” I quietly asked, feeling daunted all of a sudden because I was standing on the street, on my own, boldly confronting the woman who may have slept with my husband.

  I wished David was there so I had some support. I also wished I didn’t feel like one of those jealous wives who scream and point fingers on the Maury Povich Show. Please, don’t let me be that.

  “He’s my husband,” the woman replied. “His name is Jesse. And you’re Audrey…right?”

  The woman’s eyes were warm and friendly, surprisingly sympathetic.

  “Yes,” I said, feeling confused and unsettled by her knowledge of me. “And you’re Carla?”

  She pursed her lips questioningly and grinned at me. “No, I’m Nadia. We met a year ago in the playground across the street from your house.” She held out her hand to shake mine. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you who I was back then. I probably should have, but I was embarrassed that I’d violated the confidentiality agreement. I kind of felt like a stalker.”

  I was in a daze as I looked down at her outstretched hand…realizing slowly that this was not the woman who had borne a child with my husband. This was the person who had received his heart on the day he died.

  Good God. What was wrong with me?

  My gaze lifted to her chest where I saw the top of a scar. “You’re the heart recipient,” I said, slipping my hand into hers.

  It was mind-boggling to me, that Alex’s heart was actually beating inside this woman who stood before me. An organ from his living form was pumping blood through her body, keeping her alive—yet he was gone. As a physical being, he no longer existed in this world.

  “Yes, that’s me,” she replied as we shook hands.

  “I’m an idiot,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” she asked. “I can understand why you’d be reluctant to meet me, and I was worried about meeting you today. I didn’t know how to explain myself. I shouldn’t have pried into your life the way I did last year, without telling you who I was.”

  “I thought you were someone else,” I blurted out.

  She shook her head with confusion.

  “Never mind,” I said. “It was a stupid mistake.” I wanted to sink through the concrete.

  “Are you leaving now?” I asked, glancing down at her daughter in the back seat and suddenly wishing I had accepted Jean’s invitation, because I didn’t want this woman to go yet.

  “Yes,” she replied. “We were here all afternoon and Ellen is pretty tuckered out, but I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to spend more time with you.”

  Her husband got out of the car. “Hi,” he said, circling around the back. “You must be Audrey.”

  He was young and handsome and was dressed casually in jeans and a long sleeved gray T-shirt.

  Nadia gestured toward him. “This is my husband, Jesse.”

  Holding out a hand to shake his, I said, “It’s nice to meet you. And is this your daughter? She’s gotten bigger since the last time I saw her.”

  “They grow so fast,” Nadia said. She bent forward to speak to the little girl. “Ellen, say hi to Audrey. We met her last year in the playground in Manchester. Do you remember?”

  Ellen nodded, but she looked as if she was about to nod off, and I suspected she didn’t remember me at all. She was just being polite, which displayed incredibly good social skills for a two-year-old.

  Jesse and Nadia stood on the sidewalk for a few seconds, their smiles full of warmth and curiosity. I was, after all, the wife of the man who saved Nadia’s life.

  Strangely, much of my anger toward Alex slipped away in that moment, and I felt as if he was actually here, standing on the sidewalk, showering me with love—not knowing, of course, that I’d wanted to tear a strip off him all week. Or maybe he did know and wasn’t fazed by it.

  But that was silly. He wasn’t here.

  Nadia reached over to lay a hand on my arm. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”

  Her touch was comforting. I struggled to breathe evenly. “It’s been a strange week,” I replied. “And I wish I had come to lunch today. I didn’t want to meet you before, but I think I was in some kind of denial. Now that we’re face to face, I don’t want you to go.”

  Nadia looked up at her husband. Their gazes held for a moment, then he said, “Why don’t you two hang out for a while? I can take Ellen for a drive around town until she falls asleep. Want me to drop you off at a bar or something?” he suggested with a smile.

  I gestured toward my car where Wendy was waiting patiently. “I have my daughter. We were just going to visit Jean and Garry, but I could ask if they’d mind watching her for a bit. Then we could take my car,” I said to Nadia.

  “That sounds perfect,” she replied. “I’ll wait for you here.”

  Quickly I went to get Wendy out of her booster seat, and felt incredibly exhilarated. I wasn’t sure what was causing such euphoria, though I did hope there would be some answers today.

  Answers to what questions, I wasn’t sure, because this woman had never actually met my husband. How could she know anything?

  Chapter Forty-three

  Since I was driving—and Nadia had already enjoyed a few glasses of wine that afternoon—we opted for a nearby coffee shop.

  After we sat down with our coffees, I asked her all sorts of questions about how she ended up needing a heart transplant in the first place. She told me about her illness, which resulted in a very high-risk pregnancy and delivery, and for a few brief moments it helped me forget about my husband’s infidelity—because he had not only saved this woman’s life, he’d also saved a newborn baby from becoming motherless. For that, I was proud.

  Nadia had questions for me as well. She wanted to know how Alex and I had met, and I told her about all the good times, willing myself not to bring up any of my doubts or suspicions about his affair. Just keep smiling. She doesn’t need to know.

  Then I don’t know what came over me. My voice broke and I had to stop. I couldn’t speak and I was afraid I might break down.

  Dropping my gaze to my lap, I fought to regain control.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know this must be difficult.”

  I nodded, then found myself unable to put on a brave face and lie to this woman. I’d felt a strong connection to her from the beginning—since the first time I met her in the playground, though I didn’t understand why at the time. I still wasn’t quite sure why I felt so at ease with her now, other than the fact that I knew she had my husband’s heart.

  Was that the reason? Was there something profound going on here? Or was she simply a person I would have been friends with, regardless?

  Either way, I wanted her to know the truth today. I didn’t want to be false.

  Then she surprised me by asking…very gently, “Who di
d you think I was when you first approached me today? You called me Carla and you seemed upset.”

  My eyes lifted. Either Nadia was naturally intuitive or somehow Alex’s heart was giving her extraordinary insight into my soul.

  “I was,” I replied. “I’ve been upset all week because something happened. It’s why I didn’t want to meet the recipient of my husband’s heart.”

  She leaned forward over the table, her expression laced with sympathy.

  “I found something in Alex’s car,” I explained.

  “The Buick in his parents’ garage?” she asked.

  I nodded. “It was a picture of a baby, taken during an ultrasound. There was a note on the back dated a week before he died and it said, ‘For Alex, I hope she has your good looks. Love Carla.’ There was a little heart drawn in the corner.”

  Nadia’s eyebrows pulled together with dismay. “So you think he was having an affair?”

  Again, I nodded my head. “Two weeks before he died, he started acting differently. He was distracted and didn’t come home at the normal times.” I paused and gazed toward the windows. “It’s driving me crazy—not knowing—and I haven’t been able to tell Jean. It would break her heart to know her son was cheating, but I also think that if she has a grandchild out there somewhere, she’d want to know.”

  Nadia sat back in her chair. “God, I’m so sorry.”

  I returned my gaze to meet hers. “I’ve been really angry with him this week—and that’s the real reason I didn’t want to meet you today. I was afraid I might be tempted to throw a vase at you or something, because you have his heart. It’s stupid, I know.”

  Her eyebrows lifted. “It’s not stupid. I’d probably feel the same way if I found out something like that about Jesse.”

  I sighed heavily, then an image popped into my mind. “Gosh, I just remembered the dream I had last night. I was riding in the back seat of the Buick, and you were sitting in the front with Alex. I thought you were Carla because I remembered having met you last year and you were so curious about him. The two of you were laughing and joking, but I couldn’t make out anything you were saying. I felt like I was intruding on your relationship, but now that I’ve met you, I can sort of understand why I had that dream—because the two of you do share something. The same heart.”

  “Wow,” Nadia said, sitting back. “I’ve had a lot of strange dreams myself since the surgery. I was telling Jean about it today. That’s how I figured out who Alex was, and how I found you in the playground last year. I knew his name even before the Donor Network connected me with Jean.”

  This fascinated me, and I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. “What kind of dreams have you had?” I asked.

  She gave me a sheepish look. “I feel funny talking about it because it sounds so New Agey, but I’ve dreamed that I’m flying, sometimes over the transplant center, and once, a man flew beside me and he told me his name was Alex. I was really sick at the time, falling in and out of consciousness. I can’t explain what it all means, but I like to think that he followed me in the ambulance to make sure I was okay.” Nadia paused and chuckled softly. “Maybe somehow he felt his old heart racing out of control, because I was pretty scared.”

  I looked down at my coffee and confided, “I’ve had a lot of dreams of Alex, but he’s always out of reach, sometimes with his back to me. I can never talk to him. Last night in the dream, there was a glass window between the front seat and the back. I’ve never had a sense that he was coming to check on me directly. It’s the opposite—more that I’m trying to reach him, but I can’t.” I felt a little jealous that he might be checking on Nadia, but not Wendy and me.

  Was he checking on Carla and her child?

  Nadia waved a dismissive hand. “They’re just dreams,” she said as if she recognized my anguish. “And are you really sure he was having an affair? Do you know who this Carla person is, or where she is? If you could talk to her and find out the truth, it might help you deal with it.”

  I hooked my fingers through the handle of my coffee mug and raised it to my lips. “That’s the problem. I don’t know her last name and we have no contact information.”

  “Who’s we?” Nadia asked.

  “My friend David,” I replied. “Actually, he was Alex’s best friend. I’m sure he’d like to meet you sometime, if you’d be willing.”

  “Of course I would be,” she said with enthusiasm. Then she stared at me for a long moment, as if thinking carefully about something. “And I might be able to help you with your other problem. Do you really want to find this woman?”

  I felt a great rush of anticipation. “Yes, definitely.”

  Nadia reached for her giant purse on the floor at her feet, plopped it on her lap and dug into it. After retrieving a pen and a small notepad, she pushed her coffee mug aside.

  “I have a twin sister and she’s a lawyer in Boston. She specializes in family law and uses private investigators all the time to catch cheating spouses, locate deadbeat dads…you name it. She might be able to find this Carla person. Do you know if she lives in Connecticut?”

  “I’m not sure,” I replied, “but we found an email from her where she used the name ‘Vintage Car Chick.’ The email account is no longer active, but it might be a starting point.”

  “That’s helpful,” Nadia said, writing it down. “So tell me everything you know about her and I can pass it on to Diana. I’ll give you my email address and can you forward me that email when you get home?”

  “Of course,” I replied with a swell of elation, feeling amazed and grateful that fate had intervened and caused my path to intersect with the recipient of my late husband’s heart.

  Maybe that’s where Alex was hiding all his secrets.

  Chapter Forty-four

  When I arrived home that night, the first thing I did after putting Wendy to bed was call David. The instant he picked up the phone and said hello, I told him that I’d met the recipient of Alex’s heart that day.

  “Don’t say anything more,” he quickly replied. “I’m coming right over.”

  I felt slightly breathless as I hung up. Then I dashed around the apartment, picking up clutter and loading dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Next I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and put on a little makeup.

  I couldn’t wait to see him and tell him everything that happened that day.

  * * *

  After a week of insecurity and emotional torment, I felt positively euphoric when David walked through the door. I rose up on my tip toes, threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.

  I couldn’t see his face but I could hear the laughter in his voice as he squeezed me in return. His arms were snug around my waist. “What’s this for?”

  “It was a great day,” I replied, taking a step back to meet his sparkling blue-eyed gaze.

  Tonight he wore loose-fitting jeans and a white cotton T-shirt. His golden hair was wavy and tousled. After such a satisfying, body-hugging embrace, I couldn’t help but take in the attractive spectacle of his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

  What is happening here?

  “I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, then peered down the hall. “Is Wendy asleep?”

  “Yeah, she’s out like a light. Come on in and I’ll tell you everything.”

  Sweeping aside my awareness of his attractive masculinity—because my emotions were far too complicated right now and I didn’t want to spoil what we had—I led him into the living room where we plunked ourselves down on the sofa.

  I began with how I drove over to Jean’s, pulled up behind Nadia, recognized her from the playground a year ago and thought she was Carla, Vintage Car Chick.

  “That’s unbelievable,” David said after I told him that she was, in fact, someone else entirely.

  His eyes glimmered with fascination, and I knew he shared my excitement over learning that the woman from the park wasn’t a home-wrecking stalker. She was the person who had received Alex’s heart.

  It ha
d been a long time since I’d felt so inspired talking to someone—except of course for Nadia, earlier that day—and I knew part of it stemmed from the fact that David loved Alex, too, and the idea of meeting the person who’d received his heart was both astounding and thrilling for both of us. Alex was gone, yet a part of him still lived and thrived in the world. I knew this meant as much to David as it did to me.

  “I would like to meet her,” he said, his gaze direct and intense. “When will you see her again?”

  “I’m not sure yet,” I replied. Then I explained how she offered to try and help us locate Carla. “I have to send Nadia an email tonight and forward the message Carla sent to Alex. I can arrange a meeting with her, if you want. She has a daughter which would be fun for Wendy because they could play together.”

  David waved a hand through the air. “Wait a second. I’m confused. I don’t know much about science, but when did Nadia give birth to her daughter? Is it possible the kids share some DNA?”

  I shook my head. “No. Ellen was delivered by C-section before Nadia had the transplant, so there’s no connection there. But they liked each other when they met in the playground last year, and as a parent of an only child, I always want to help her make friends. Nadia’s daughter is an only child, too, so Nadia feels the same way.”

  He nodded. “I get that. If you want to invite them over here, I could help you cook.”

  My whole face lit up and I smiled. “Okay.”

  David was quick to ask more questions. “So tell me more about her sister, the lawyer. She’s her twin? How is she going to help us?”

  I explained that Diana specialized in family law and she knew several of the best private investigators.

  “I hope she can help us find some answers,” David said.

  “Me, too,” I replied, happily aware of the fact that he had used the word “us” twice.

  Chapter Forty-five