Denial

by Jackie Kennedy

  Hurting, and not wanting to hear Maggie’s words, Amy pulled out of her arms. “Please, Maggie, come with me to get the boys.”

  Maggie shook her head. “No.”

  Amy stared at her, then stomped her foot into the sand and insisted that she see her boys.

  Maggie was unrelenting. Amy tried again. She begged the redhead to take her to see them.

  “No,” Maggie said, shaking her head.

  Amy looked at Maggie with pleading eyes, then hanging her head moved off toward the sand dunes, leaving her cousin behind. She walked slowly, but soon excitement overtook her at the thought of seeing her boys. She started to run but quickly realized that no matter how much ground she covered, she wasn’t nearing the dunes. Feeling the heat, she slowed to a jog then slowed to a walk. Eventually, exhausted, she stopped and stared at the dunes. She was no closer. It seemed the more she moved toward them, the more they moved away.

  Maggie shimmered in front of her.

  In shock, Amy staggered back. She looked back to where Maggie should have been no more than a blip on the horizon. She stared at her cousin and stuttered, “How…how did you do that?”

  Maggie moved closer and taking her cousin into her arms, let out a real belly laugh. Obviously loving that she had surprised Amy, she eventually managed to say, “It’s good isn’t it?” She laughed hard.

  The shock left Amy and was quickly replaced with laughter. She had forgotten how much of a tease Maggie was. She joined her, when the redhead let out another raucous laugh.

  Amy was laughing hard when Maggie looked past her. She stopped laughing. She looked at Amy and said in a serious tone, “Jellybean, there’s no need to worry. They’re fine. I’m looking after the boys.” She tenderly swept sticky hair from Amy’s forehead, “Just as I’ve always done. Just as I always did with you.”

  “I miss you.”

  “I know,” Maggie said, rubbing Amy’s arms. “Amy, everything happens for a reason, great love as well as great loss. They happen to test the limits of our souls.” She smiled at Amy. “Without these tests, life would be a straight, flat road; safe, dull, and completely and utterly pointless.”

  Blinking, Amy looked at Maggie with confusion.

  Maggie looked over Amy’s shoulder. “Now listen to me,” she said anxiously. “You need to focus on what I’m saying.” She looked at Amy. “She will need you. Go to—”

  Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

  Amy woke with a start. Heart pounding, she sat up and dazedly looked around her. Reaching over, she hit her alarm. “Dream,” she told herself as she wiped a hand over her sweating face. “A dream,” she reassured, running her hands through her hair. Eyes wide, she breathed in and out until she calmed.

  Waves of crippling sadness washed over Amy, when she finally understood it was just a dream.

  Chapter 53

  “Glad your first day’s over?” Sandra asked as she tucked into Chinese takeout.

  Amy nodded.

  Sandra chewed on her food. “It always takes me a few days to get back into the swing of things.”

  “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine, Sandra,” Amy said, putting down her fork, she lifted her glass of juice.

  Sandra nodded. “I know.”

  They ate in silence.

  “What’s on your mind?” Sandra asked, scooping a forkful of noodles into her mouth.

  Amy looked at her friend and shook her head. “Nothing, I’m just tired.”

  “Amy,” Sandra responded. “I know you.”

  Amy smiled. “I know.”

  Sandra wrapped some more noodles around her fork. “Are you going to tell me?”

  Amy sighed. “I had a dream last night, that’s all. And it’s on my mind.”

  “What kind of dream?”

  “Vivid,” Amy replied. Losing her appetite, she got up and moved toward the garbage can.

  “And?”

  Amy flipped the lid and emptied her plate. “And,” she answered, moving around the kitchen. “I don’t know.” She put her plate in the dishwasher. “I don’t really know what it was about.” She shook her head. “But Maggie was there, and it felt real. She felt real.”

  “Maybe it was,” Sandra replied, pushing her plate aside.

  “What?”

  “What did Maggie say?”

  “I’m not sure,” Amy said, shaking her head.

  “Think.”

  “Why are you so interested?” Amy asked, frowning.

  “Because sometimes these things can be really important.”

  Amy shrugged. “It was a dream, that’s all.”

  “Was there anyone else there?” Sandra asked, picking up her beer bottle.

  Amy raised her eyebrows. It never ceased to amaze her how sharp Sandra was. “Celeste,” she replied, throwing the empty containers in the bin. “Celeste and the boys were there.”

  “They say dreams that appear so vivid, that seem real, happen like so that we can be communicated with—”

  “Don’t,” Amy said. “Whatever, you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.”

  Sandra took a deep breath then exhaled. “When I was married, I lost a baby.”

  Startled, Amy looked at her friend. “You never told me.”

  “Skeletons in closets have a habit of staying there, Amy,” Sandra replied, shrugging. “Anyway, you knew about the marriage.”

  “I knew you were married, but that’s about it.”

  “What is there to know? He was arse who left me for another woman. End of story.”

  Amy returned to her seat and took Sandra’s hand. “What happened?”

  Sandra looked at their hands. “She died when she was a few months old.”

  Amy’s grip tightened. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sandra nodded. “Her name was Mia,” she said, the pain shining bright in her eyes. “After my Gran.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Sandra’s eyes widened. “Do you really need me to tell you why?”

  “Okay, point taken.” Amy smiled. “We’re even. No more secrets.”

  “Agreed.” Sandra sipped her beer. “The bastard left me when I was pregnant. Eight months to be exact.”

  Amy closed her eyes briefly.

  “I blamed him at first.” Sandra sighed. “Then I blamed myself.”

  Amy reached out and stroked her friend’s face. “I’m here for you. Tell me.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Sandra replied. “One minute she was healthy, next minute she had heart problems. Tears brimmed then fell from her eyes. “Congenital cardiovascular malformations.” She sniffed. “Her wee heart gave out. They didn’t pick it up. There was nothing they could do.” She wiped her face with the corner of her sleeve and sniffed again. “There was nothing I could do.”

  Amy moved out of her chair and hugged Sandra.

  “I blamed myself. Thought it was because of the split,” Sandra said, holding Amy tightly. “But, in retrospect, I totally focused on not getting stressed in anyway during the pregnancy.” Sandra looked at Amy. “I can’t really blame him. I was in a marriage that should never have happened and I was glad to be rid of him, to be honest.” She smiled through her tears. “I’ve already told you he was an arse?”

  “Aye.” Tears falling, Amy laughed. “I think you’ve mentioned that already.”

  Sandra let Amy go. She rubbed her wet nose. “Amy, I’m dripping all over the place, any chance of a tissue?”

  Sniffing, Amy nodded. “I need one too.” She got up and brought back a box of tissues. She passed Sandra a handful.

  Sandra looked at the bundle. “Crikey, my nose isn’t that big!”

  “No?” Amy teased. “Let me know when you’re going to blow. I’ll take cover.”

  Sandra laughed. “Any chance of a cup of tea,” she asked. “To finish off the night.”

  “No problem.” Amy replied. She put the kettle on.

  “Anyway, the whole point of me telling you this is that I had a dream,” Sand
ra said. “Just like yours. It was vivid. So vivid, that every detail has stayed with me.” She looked off into the distance then shivered slightly.

  Putting the cups out, Amy noticed that her hands were shaking. Sandra must have noticed too because she got out of her chair and came to her. Taking Amy’s trembling hands in hers, she gave them a reassuring squeeze before moving over to the fridge.

  “When my Gran died I was in my mid-twenties,” Sandra said, taking out the milk. “She brought me up, you know.”

  “What happened to your folks,” Amy asked with concern.

  “Nothing really,” Sandra replied. “Nothing that dramatic, anyway.” She shrugged. “I’m the product of a teenage pregnancy; a one-night-stand.”

  Amy looked at Sandra.

  “I never knew who my dad was, and my mum,” Sandra said, shaking her head, “she was too young to cope. My gran fell into the role of looking after me.” An affectionate look crossed Sandra’s face “She was a great old biddy, brilliant to the end.”

  Amy filled the teapot with hot water.

  “In my dream,” Sandra said, taking the milk top off the carton. “Gran was standing with her arms out to me, wanting me to pass Mia to her, but I didn’t want to. I was crying really hard.” She looked at Amy. “You know, that way when you cry so hard you can’t get your breath.”

  Pouring tea into the cups, Amy nodded.

  “But she kept smiling and telling me it was okay.” Sandra passed Amy the milk. “That she would look after her, and that I wasn’t to worry. That she would look after my baby, like she had me.”

  Amy stirred the milk into the cups and not looking at Sandra said, “Maggie told me the same.”

  Nodding, Sandra came close to Amy. “Did she?” she encouraged.

  Amy nodded. “What does it mean?”

  Sandra picked up a steaming cup. “I don’t know.” She paused. “It could mean everything. It could mean nothing.” She blew into the cup. “I’m not very religious, but maybe it’s not all over when you die. Maybe there’s something more.” She looked at Amy. “All I know is that we don’t have all the answers. On a bad day, I get a lot of comfort knowing that maybe Mia is being looked after by someone I love.”

  Amy picked up her cup.

  Sandra sipped her tea. “What did Maggie say?”

  Amy tensed. Her voice choked up a little. “That she had the boys.”

  “Good,” Sandra said. “What did she say about Celeste?”

  Amy looked at her in surprise. “She…I…” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Tell me. We agreed. No more secrets.”

  Amy inhaled and, evading the question, replied, “Celeste was beside me on the beach.”

  “What was she doing?”

  “Nothing,” Amy shrugged. “She was lying on the sand and I couldn’t wake her. And then Maggie appeared.” She shook her head in frustration. “It felt so real.”

  “What did Maggie want?”

  Amy sipped her tea, then replied, “I don’t know.”

  Sandra wrapped her fingers around the cup. “Yes, you do.”

  Amy drew in her breath. “She told me that the boys were safe.”

  “What else?”

  “Sandra.” Amy sighed in frustration. “It was a dream!”

  Sandra sipped her tea. Raising her eyebrows, she said, “Humor me. What did she say about Celeste?”

  Staring into her cup, Amy replied, “I’m not sure.”

  “Yes, you are.”

  Unsure of where this was going, Amy looked at Sandra.

  “What do you think she was trying to tell you?”

  “I don’t know.” Amy closed her eyes briefly. “I wish it hadn’t happened. It sharpens everything. Makes me realize how much I miss them.”

  “I know.”

  “Why does it have to be so hard?”

  “It’s not that it’s hard, Amy. It’s painful.” Sandra looked at Amy intently. “It’s time,” she added. “You’re struggling because you already know what to do. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in so much pain.”

  “It’s almost unbearable sometimes,” Amy said, letting Sandra in.

  Sandra nodded. “What did she say about Celeste?”

  Amy’s mouth firmed and she shook her head.

  Sandra looked at Amy for a long moment. “I married for all the wrong reasons, you know, Amy,” she said. “He was fifteen years older than me.” She looked into her cup. “He was ready to settle. But I was literally just out of the pram when we got together.” She smiled wryly. “He liked his women young.”

  Amy looked surprised.

  Pain showed on Sandra’s face. She looked out the window.

  Amy waited.

  “I’d been brought up by my gran,” Sandra said eventually. “She loved me to pieces, but didn’t have two pennies to rub together.” Sandra closed her eyes. “When I was young, I wanted it all. I dreamed about having a big house, fancy car, luxury holidays, and the white picket fence. I wanted all of it. So, I made a promise to myself that I was going to get it, but I didn’t know how.” She opened her eyes and focused on Amy. “Until Stuart came along.”

  A shiver ran down Amy’s spine. She had never seen Sandra’s eyes so cold.

  “Gran didn’t want me to marry him. She knew the truth, you see. She knew I didn’t love him and that it was the financial security I was after. She knew even before I did.” Her eyes widened. “All I could see were gifts and treats, nothing else. I couldn’t see past the money.” She breathed in deeply. “And he was difficult, in all the ways that a selfish person can be difficult.”

  Intrigued, Amy sipped her tea.

  “Everything that could go wrong, did!” Sandra’s eyes glittered. “No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough.” She looked down. “And within a year, it was me that wasn’t enough. He took lovers, and God, did he have an appetite for women.” She shook her head in disbelief. “But I didn’t leave, I stayed. Got used to the money you see.” She looked at Amy. “And he knew it. He knew he had me. He knew he’d bought me. So, he did what he liked and I pretended not to see it.”

  Wide-eyed, Amy stared at Sandra, unable to reconcile the woman she was describing as her friend.

  Sandra smiled and shrugged. “I was twenty-three and had just finished my nurse training when we married. You’re optimistic at that age,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Your identity is still being defined. But by thirty,” she frowned, “I felt as if I’d lived a lifetime.”

  Amy looked at Sandra, sympathy filling her eyes.

  “That’s why I travel, Amy. After I lost Mia,” she said, “it helps me reconnect with what’s important. My gran always wanted to travel. She worked hard all her life. Like all women did at that time. But she talked of traveling.” Sandra’s eyes darkened. “If her life hadn’t been so dictated by the times, she would have visited every place on the map.” She smiled weakly. “But, in her time, it was unheard of. Then, a working-class girl couldn’t contemplate more than a trip to the local beach.” She shook her head. “Gran brought up six kids. Worked hard all her life, and in the end I thought she died with nothing to show for it.”

  Amy touched Sandra’s arm and squeezed it.

  Sandra shook her head. “Worked with nothing to show for it, what an idiot I was then.” She half smiled. “It wasn’t until I lost Mia and was sitting in a big, empty, old house, alone, that I saw what my life truly was. I was pretending.” She rubbed her forehead. “I thought I had the perfect life. Lived in the right area, had the right friends, went on the right holidays. Even when my gran died, I didn’t see it.” She shook her head. “Only after Mia, did I realize that it was me who had nothing to show.” She looked at Amy. “He owned everything, even me.”

  Sandra moved to the kitchen sink.

  “Gran used to tell me that life was messy, and that I wasn’t to fall into the trap of trying to build a perfect world around me. But I ignored her,” she said, washing her cup. “I can hear her words now, telling me to find perspecti
ve, get out there, find life. That the whole point of living is not to box yourself in with things that don’t matter or try to make too much sense of it. Just live it.” She shook her head. “God, I miss her.”

  Sandra looked at Amy. “The reason I’m telling you this is that my gran didn’t have choices, Amy.” Her eyes widened. “We’re lucky. We live in a time where our lives aren’t dictated too much. We don’t have to stay on the road with no interruptions, no deviations, no loose ends. We have the freedom to do things that we want to, change direction; live our lives as we choose.” She frowned. “Do you understand?”

  Amy nodded. “It’s one revelation after another tonight.”

  “I know. But you get the gist?” she replied. “You have the choice.”

  “I get it,” Amy said, biting her bottom lip.

  Sandra dried her cup. “Getting out of my everyday life helps me get a better perspective because sometimes, after a shift, I’m so tired that I fall asleep the moment I sit down. And it’s not unusual for me to wake up and still have my coat on.” She looked at Amy. “It’s an empty existence.” She put her cup away. “I don’t want that to be what my life’s about, and I don’t want that to be your life either.”

  Amy could sense the air changing. She folded her arms protectively.

  Sandra breathed in deeply. “I’m thirty-eight years old, and since my marriage, I’ve never met someone that I want to be with more than casually.” She smiled. “In fact, that applies to my ex as well.” She frowned. “I’ve never found someone I care enough about to want to know what they think of my opinions, my ideas, the way I look, my friends. I’ve never found someone who can get to the heart of me,” she looked at Amy, “that consumes me, makes me unable to function properly without them.”

  Amy shivered. She could feel it coming. She could feel the shift, the cracks starting to appear around her.

  Sandra watched Amy. She waited for a moment.

  Amy could almost hear the question.

  Sandra asked quietly, tenderly, “What does it feel like, Amy?”

  Not wanting her world to shatter, Amy looked at Sandra. “Don’t,” she replied, her face paling.