Rewind

by Julia P. Lynde

  She stammered a reply.

  "Um. Veronica. You don't donate to any charities?"

  "I buy Girl Scout cookies," she said, "and a wreath from the Boy Scouts every fall."

  That turned into a longer conversation. But it was a busy time of the year. It seemed they were all busy by then. Veronica eventually wrote a check and handed it to me. She said, "Can you just give this to whomever you think most deserves it. Just handle it every year."

  It was a pretty significant check. Not millions significant, but a lot. So the next day I went back to the banker and said, "Can we set up a small charitable foundation? What are the rules?"

  And so we did. From that point forward, every year towards the end of the year, Veronica would give me a check. Some years the check was larger than other years. I simply started giving at first ten percent of any money I made to the foundation as well, but over time that slowly turned into twenty percent. Once Veronica's staff found out about the foundation, they also started giving us money. Then I found ways to use the money to reinvest in the community.

  Veronica and I talked about it and we both agreed that the money should be used locally. So I spent time every year finding the right things to do with it. I looked for modest projects, where the amounts we could provide might really help. We donated heavily to a local shelter for battered women and local food shelves, for instance. I always discussed the programs with Veronica, and sometimes she and I would also volunteer for the organizations.

  We both ended up acting as mentors for numerous young girls over the years. Some of those were formally recognized, a lot was quite informal. We tried to help where we could.

  * * *

  We never had kids of our own. Of course, we couldn't produce one together, but we could have pursued a variety of arrangements. We talked about them, but we decided that what we were doing was good, that our lives were rich the way they were. Neither of us ever regretted that decision.

  Hosting foreign exchange students was fun.

  And being Auntie Shane and Auntie Veronica to Matt's kids was great. We spoiled his kids rotten.

  * * *

  Time passes, of course, like it always does.

  I was sitting in the grass, reading Veronica a story. It was just a couple of pages, but I was sure she would have liked it. I had brought flowers with me and nestled them against her gravestone. She'd been gone for two years.

  When she'd gotten sick, she told me, "Find other lovers. You're still young, I don't want you to be alone."

  Another day she said, "It's okay if you sell our apartment. I know it may be hard to stay there after I'm gone."

  I'd begged her to get better. I'd begged god to make her better. Veronica just held me, caressing my hair, by then more grey than red, but still just as long as ever, and told me over and over that she loved me, and how happy I'd made her.

  And then she died, and I was alone. For the first time in my entire life, I was completely alone.

  That was two years ago.

  I finished reading the story to her. "I thought you'd like this one," I told her. "I was thinking about that time you made me model the rubber cat suit. I don't remember what I'd done to push your buttons, but you'd called Wendy and asked if we could come straight over for a modeling session. And so I wrote about a magical cat suit that when you wore it, you became a cat."

  I could imagine her laughing at me.

  "I have a novel, Roni, but I'm not sure I'm going to write it."

  I reached up and pulled the scarf off my bald head. "I don't think the chemo is working anymore, Roni. I hurt all the time now, and I don't think it's going to be long. I don't think I have the energy to write the novel, but when I see you, I can tell you all about it."

  I started to cry a little. "Remember when I cut my hair? I promised I'd never cut it again, and now. Look. It's all gone. You wouldn't recognize me."

  It was a Tuesday, mid morning. The cemetery was quiet. I liked to come on Tuesdays because no one ever bothered me. I noticed a woman walking across the cemetery towards me, but I didn't pay her any mind.

  I lay down across Veronica's grave and tried to imagine her holding me.

  "I miss you, Roni, but it won't be long now. Did you wait for me?"

  The woman walked straight up to me and sat down cross-legged facing me. I just stared at her. Didn't she realize this was private?

  Then she reached over for the flowers I'd brought and picked them up. She started to pull the bouquet apart.

  "Hey! What are you doing?"

  She took the first rose, poked the stem into the ground, and held it there for a moment. And I swear, it started to take root. I stared as she did the same with remaining eleven roses. By the time she was done, there was an entire rose bush blooming all over the gravestone. Then she finally looked at me, and she was glowing.

  "I'm so proud of you, Shane," she said.

  "I hate you!" I screamed at her. "I hate you hate you hate you!"

  "I know," she said. "I'm sorry."

  "You took her from me, and I miss her so much. You could have helped her, and you didn't!"

  "I'm sorry."

  "You could have let us die together. I want her back! Bring her back."

  "She loved the story you just read. She was laughing while you wrote it."

  "What?"

  "She's always with you, Shane. When you're in the apartment, and you think you can smell her personal scent, it's her, holding you. She misses you, too. She asked me to help you. She knows you hurt now."

  "Why are you here?"

  "I wanted to talk to you. I'm so very proud of you, Shane. I don't meddle very often, and I do love it when the results are as glorious as you have been."

  "I didn't do anything special, "I said.

  "Don't be daft," she said, shaking a finger at me. She cocked her head. "You really believe that, don't you?"

  I shrugged, feeling like a petulant girl. Then I remembered what Roni called me all the time and I started crying again.

  "Shhh, shhh," the woman said. "I know it hurts, missing her so much, but you'll be together again. I'm so proud of you. For a lot of lovers, one lifetime is more than enough. For the two of you, an eternity may not be enough." She paused. "Oh, but where was I? Oh, yes, nothing special, you say? Perhaps we should catalog just how un-special you've been, shall we?"

  I shrugged again and tried to stop crying.

  "Well, let's talk about Veronica first then, shall we?"

  "Can I ask you something first?"

  "You can ask, I may not answer."

  "Did you make us love each other?"

  She laughed. "No, that was all you. Shane, you know, I gave man three gifts. I gave them life and this planet. I gave them brains. And I gave them free will. And I never meddle with those." She looked around. "I wish you would take better care of the planet. I wish people would use their brains more often. But I'm not going to step all over free will and force anyone."

  She shrugged. "But I'll nudge. I gave you Shane's body, her memories, and her problems. I let you keep enough of what makes you special that I thought you could take care of those, and you did. I knew you would need help. I didn't know you would ask Victoria and Wendy. When I thought about unusual places for help, they weren't at all what I had in mind, but I surely did love watching you when you walked into their store."

  She smiled. "And then, when they were planning the dinner party, I looked at who they were going to invite. Veronica wasn't on the list. They thought she was too old for you. But then I simply reminded Wendy of what a fabulous guest Veronica is, and how you could use a mentor in the business world, someone they trusted, so she got an invitation. And then I had to nudge Veronica just a little bit to cancel her other plans. I reminded her the plans weren't important. After that, it was all you."

  She paused. "Well, almost all you. Veronica was wrong and you were right. Neither the old Shane nor the old you had ever heard of tango. That was all me. I slipped that into you only after y
ou asked her to swing dance. It was what made the sale, I think."

  "You taught me to tango?" She nodded. I thought about it. "Thank you."

  "You're welcome. I did so enjoy watching you and Veronica dance together. So much love, so much passion."

  "When she wrapped her arms around me and I felt her breath on my neck, I think that's when I started to fall in love with her. Being held by someone had never felt so amazing as stepping into her arms that first time." I paused, still feeling distrustful. "You didn't make us love each other?"

  "Not in the slightest," she said. "When I saw the directions things were going, I thought, how perfect. So I meddled just enough to give you a chance, that's all. A meeting, a dance. I let the two of you figure it out from there."

  She looked sad for a moment. "Veronica needed help, too, Shane. She was lonely. She had so much potential to love, and I absolutely adore the houses she decorated. They're so uplifting. But before you, her houses were darker, more stark. They were good, but they didn't lift the human spirit the way her designs did when loving you." She smiled. "Do you remember the night you finally made Veronica scream your name?"

  "Hey! You weren't supposed to watch things like that!" I blushed, but I remembered. I couldn't get her to scream often. Usually she whispered. But that night she screamed.

  "The next day, she did a design for a couple. The design featured hints of a certain shade of red with a green brocade."

  "She used my colors in someone else's house?"

  "The couple it was for had a little girl of eight years old. That little girl had hair precisely the color of yours. So Veronica used that color as a design element. That little girl grew up in a house where everywhere she looked, she saw subtle reminders that she was loved. Without those reminders, things would have been different for her."

  I decided that was okay.

  "Then shall we talk about all the young girls you and Veronica helped together? Or the employees who made their livelihood from the business the two of you ran? Before you came along, Veronica worked long hours and was rarely happy, and her staff knew it. She was the boss, nothing more. But after you, Veronica was happy. Always happy, and that completely changed how she interacted with her staff. She wasn't just a boss, she was their friend. And when they needed help, they knew they could go to her. And that's because of you."

  God smiled. "But let's move on. Should we talk about Matt?"

  "Matt was just fine without me."

  "Yes, he was. Do you remember ever meeting a friend of his named Jordan?"

  I did. "Matt told me she was gay and didn't have many friends."

  "She didn't have any friends. Not one. The kids at school thought she was weird. But Matt befriended her. They're still friends to this day. And he would talk about you and Veronica to her. Instead of having a horrible high school experience, Jordan's was okay. I would have liked it to have been better, but Matt made it okay. And while she struggled with her relationships for a while, she knew real love existed, and she didn't settle until she found it."

  The woman tapped me on the nose. "And that's all because Matt learned about love from you and Veronica."

  "Mom and Dad."

  "Your parents loved each other very much, but they were very conservative about showing it. You and Veronica, however, were not. No one could be in the same room with you and not see how much you loved each other. Matt saw it. And he shared that with Jordan. And now he shares it with Sarah, his wife."

  "He got lucky there," I admitted.

  "Not luck. He saw what you and Veronica had and knew he wanted the same thing for himself. So Matt and Sarah are deeply in love, and that wouldn't have happened if Matt had pursued relationships differently. And their children grew up in a household where love flourished, so they're happy and well adjusted."

  The woman stretched for a moment, taking in the mid morning sunshine. "I do love this time of day," she said.

  "Now, let's talk about your stories."

  "I wasn't very successful."

  "Poppycock. You put a lot of yourself into those stories, and it always showed. No one could read one of your novels and not come out of it a better person. Furthermore, you were open about your sexuality, so younger girls reading your novels grew up to have you as a role model. You prevented three suicides and kept four other girls from other forms of physically self-destructive behavior. Two drug addicts read your novels during treatment programs, finding the strength to make it through the programs whereas without your novels, they may not have. Four hundred and seventy nine of your readers in some way got involved in anti-bullying campaigns, either stopping their own bullying, not starting bullying they would have started otherwise, or intervening in bullying done by others. One thousand and seventy nine people after reading your novels and learning more about you finally understood what love was and were able to make changes in their lives that made things better."

  Then she looked sad for a moment before brightening again. "But the best part of all this came from one teenage girl. Do you remember a book signing you did in Des Moines eight years ago?"

  I nodded.

  "There was a girl in back, dressed in goth. She asked you how you initially coped with coming out."

  "I'm sorry, I don't remember her."

  "It's okay. You told her that you asked for help."

  "Okay, it sounds like something I'd say."

  "After the book signing, she walked to the nearest hospital, walked up to the front desk, pulled a gun out of her purse and set it on the counter, and said, 'I was going to go home and shoot my parents and then myself. I need help. Can you help me?'"

  "I didn't know," I said in a small voice.

  "Of course you didn't, dear. The rock doesn't know what happens to the ripples in the pond, either. But Shane, you have made some of the most amazing ripples. Thank you ever so much."

  I looked around at Veronica's grave. "They'll mow these flowers down."

  "No one mows my flowers down," she said.

  "Thank you for them, they're lovely. Roni would have liked them."

  "Roni does like them."

  "You could take me to her now."

  "I'm sorry, Shane. Soon, but not yet. You have two more stories you need to tell."

  "Only one," I replied. "And I can't. I can barely get a few pages out. I have to take the drugs for the pain, and they make me sleepy. And lately, they aren't really helping with the pain, either."

  And then she reached over and laid her hands on my stomach. Her hands were glowing.

  "No! Stop! Don't you dare heal me! I'm ready to go, just take me with you. I want my Roni!"

  She ignored me. I tried to pull away, to break the contact, but I was frozen in place. After a short time, the glowing stopped and she nodded, one. The pain was gone, every last bit of it was gone.

  "How could you?!" I screamed at her.

  "Hush, child," she said. "I didn't cure you. I won't take you today, but I didn't cure you. I took the pain away, and I slowed the cancer down."

  "No!"

  "Just a little, Shane. Trust me, just a little. I need this from you, Shane. I promise you'll be together again soon."

  "Promise?"

  "Cross my heart." And she did just that. "Shane, you have two stories left, and I really need you to write them."

  "I only have one."

  "Yes, right now. I need you to write it. And then set it aside. After that, I think it's time you tell Veronica's story."

  "What story?"

  "Don't worry, when it's time, she'll whisper it to you. You'll know what to write. Trust yourself, just write it."

  I nodded.

  "You won't live to see either novel published."

  "I don't care."

  "When you're done, give both novels to Matt. Ask him to take care of them for you. That part is important too."

  "Why? My agent can take care of them."

  "I'm not answering that. Give them to Matt."

  I looked into her face before no
dding acceptance. "I've never been alone before," I told her. "Can you bring Roni back for me?"

  "No, Shane, but I have someone else for you." And then she puckered her lips and whistled, then turned and looked.

  I looked with her. Walking across the cemetery towards us was a beautiful if elderly Golden Retriever.

  "Suze?" I said. I looked at God. "I couldn't remember her before. Her name is Suze." I crouched down and Suze came straight to me, shoving her big furry head into my face. She gave me a quick lick and then sat down.

  "How?" I asked. "You told me my brother took her in."

  "He did. She lived for two more years with him before returning to me."

  "Then how? She looks exactly like I last saw her."

  "I did a little rewind for her. She asked."

  "She asked?"

  "Yes. This morning. I'd gone to talk to Veronica about you. She and Suze have become such good friends. I told Veronica I was going to talk to you. Suze walked up to me and told me in no uncertain terms she was coming with. So here we are."

  I hugged my dog and cried in her fur. "I've missed you, Suze. I didn't know it, but I did." Then I looked at the woman. "Where will I walk her? We're in the middle of the city."

  "I suppose at that lovely park you own across the street."

  "You mean the ugly lot no one wants to claim?"

  "I believe you are mistaken, Shane. It's a beautiful little park with grass and flowers and trees." She looked at me pointedly.

  "Oh." I said, realizing what she'd done. "You meddled a lot."

  She nodded. "Shane, you can trust Suze. She's very smart. She won't get hit by a car. She'll be able to walk herself once you can't. And there's a homeless person who sleeps in the park. If you let him stay there and pay him a little bit, he'll keep the park looking nice."

  "Write the stories, Shane, give them to Matt. Love Suze." She paused. "It won't hurt. Then you and Suze together can join Veronica."

  She got up and turned to walk away. "I'm ever so proud of you, Shane."

  She walked away. I looked at Suze. She helped me stand up. "Ready for a car ride, girl?"