The Summer of Your Life

by Lucy Morton

  “He will have his reasons," Pam says.

  I do not listen to them.

  I do not enjoy the days I have left in Greece, nor do I take a plane to New York simply because my bank account is in red. Had Martin not paid for the honeymoon, I would not have been able to afford me two "dream" weeks on the island.

  The days pass slowly, and I just become a body without a soul wandering the stone streets of the area, by getting into the pool to take the heat or walking on the seashore at night to relax before going to sleep.

  And there is a single thought in my head: a night in which I saw that life, in spite of being serious, it could be wonderful.

  CHAPTER 10

  STUART

  Living again

  New York, a week later

  Returning to the chaotic city of New York, means returning to the reality of a life that I would not have wanted even in my worst nightmares.

  I never imagined that the outstanding trip to Greece long before the accident, gave me the most wonderful woman I had met in my life after her. Because before, she was always the one.

  Perhaps she, lying in a bed in a vegetative state, has had her way as she always told me.

  “If someday something happened to me", she murmured before going to sleep, with his big hazel eyes and a nervous smile on her lips, "if I died and I went to heaven, I would do my best to introduce you to the woman of your life.”

  “Don’t be silly, Angela. The woman of my life is you", I said, laughing.

  “There may be more. Not many, of course. Not just anyone. Life has a plan, Stuart. It always has a plan.”

  But one fateful night when my wife and I went out to dinner at friends' house, we had a car accident. A drunk driver rolled us over without me doing anything to stop him. I escaped from the accident unharmed and Angela did not wake up. She has been in a vegetative state for a year, lying in a hospital bed she will never wake up. And I, her husband, am the only legally person that can put an end to her situation.

  While I am taking the subway to the hospital, I think of it over and over again on Angela's premonitory words. Can anyone know that his life will end up soon? Can she have a feeling? We never talk about having children. In fact, we made very few plans except for a trip to Greece. To Ikaria Island. Angela said that it was special, unique in the world. I was able to contemplate its beauty the week I was there, although I must tell Angela that I did not like too much its food. Not at least the food of Villa Dimitri chef.

  Angela would surely hate the guy I've become. She never liked snoop or rude people, and she always criticized the men going to bed with any woman in front of them.

  Except for the occasion when I got up without a word, no woman had been in my bed. My bed was sacred. Its cushion still had Angela's pleasant lavender scent. But little by little, over time, the smell was disappearing a bit and I fear that someday it will disappear completely. Her dresses are still in the closet, waiting for her. The books he did not have time to read accumulate dust on the living room shelf. Throughout this cursed year, I have learned to live with her absence. The first eight months I went to the hospital every day. Then my visits decreased because I believed my heart would burst because of the pain. "Why her and not me?" I wondered all the time.

  A young woman in her twenties goes into the subway. She reminds me Kate. Like her, she is blonde and she has big blue eyes like so many other people in the world. But her essence is intoxicating and special like Kate's. I laugh only thinking of her and all the fun moments that we live in Greece. I imagine she'll be back in New York and I'd like to call her, but I'm afraid that if she has not done that, maybe she does not want to. After all, people get a little crazy when they are on vacation and they see things that, when they return to everyday life, may not be as real as they seemed at the time they were living it.

  There is one more stop to go. A stop to go down, to walk five minutes to the hospital and to see Angela holding by noisy and unbearable machines, lying on a bed. Her spirit, if it exists, must be angry with me: "Why did not you do it before? Why did not you turn off the machines the moment the doctors told you my brain was not working? Why did you want to keep me here?”

  In fact, I never lost hope.

  I sat beside her thinking that at any moment she would open her eyes or she would put my hand on her. That never happened. The nurses looked at me with pity and these last months, the faces of the doctors told me hardly that I had to end this.

  Angela's parents have not ceased their efforts to convince me via WhatsApps. Her mother told me one day that he had dreamed of Angela.

  “She was very sad and she was wearing a white robe. She wanted to leave this world, Stuart. Son, I am her mother, you do not know how much it hurts me to have to beg you to sign the papers with the order to disconnect her. You can only do it, you're her husband. You must let her go and you must go on with your life as Angela would like, too.

  At first they blamed me for the vegetative state of their daughter. His father, a retired policeman looking rough, told me:

  “You were drunk, too! And you let her die! Stuart, Angela is dead!”

  “ No, she is not", I said, crying my eyes out.

  “Is that’s how is she supposed to be alive?" He asked, pointing to his daughter.

  The five minutes on the way to the hospital are forever. With my hands in the pockets of my pants and a lump in my throat, I climb the slope and I stand in front of the hospital entrance. Automatically, like a robot, I am heading to the elevator. Sixth floor, room 210. I know it by heart.

  When entering the door, Angela's parents are crying next to their daughter's body. I have not seen her for two months. Her mahogany hair is messy and greasy on the cushion. Her eyes closed. Her small nose and soft lips covered by a large tube. The machines are working to maintain her heartbeat, but her brain does not respond. "And it never will”, I just convinced myself.

  “Stuart, son", Angela's father say hi to me, with pity.

  Her mother hugs me. It relieves me a little the way they are looking at me. From the hundreds of messages they sent me, I thought they would start asking me a lot of questions or begin with accusations.

  “It's time, Stuart" Angela's mother begged.

  “Can you leave me alone with her? It will be a moment", I ask.

  They nod sympathetically and they disappear through the door. I see from the little glass that they have stopped to talk to the doctor, that a lawyer arrives with a bunch of papers that I will have to sign and that Angela's mother starts crying disconsolately in her husband's arms.

  I look at my wife. The protagonist in this miserable show. I remember her smiling and living intensely every second of her life. Excited by the small moments, knowing that it turns out they are the most important moments in life. Angela was a wise and determined woman and it really hurts me to speak of her in the past. She knew and she saw things that the rest of the world learned (with a bit of luck), by being eighty years old. Maybe the life of these wise souls should be short. But how painful and unfair it is for people that we love these souls who know more in a short period of time than others who live a hundred years without having learned nothing at all.

  “Angela..." I whisper in her ear. “I've been to Greece, you know? In Ikaria Island. And it is special, indeed.”

  I stroke her hand and I gave her a kiss on the forehead. I just imagine that I am watching her mouth making a face by forming a nice smile on her lips.

  “I've met someone. Her name is Kate Spencer and she is as vivacious as you were. She's a little crazy, yes, but... Who is not? This world is crazy. I'm so sorry that you're no longer in it, Angela. Forgive me for holding you for so long. For not having enough courage to disconnect these machines. I know that your wish was very different from this and I know that I have not behaved well. But I kept my promise. I went to Greece. And this is just going to be the first of many other promises I'm going to keep.” I breathe deeply. I can barely keep talking. “I am going to be happy.
I'm going to live. I'll make ads if they want me and I'll fight for Kate's love. You'll think I'm an idiot, but for some strange reason, I want to believe that you put her in my way. You know? It sounds like a cliché but when we first met, we argued and we did not like each other. That always happens in romantic movies, right? But then... it made me lives the summer of my life. And I'm not saying that our trip to Bali was not right. It was very good, you know. But it is... it could be said to be a new illusion. A new path that has surprised me. It's much more than I expected, Angela.”

  I rinse my tears and I can see through the window how his parents, the doctor and the lawyer, are waiting impatiently in the hallway.

  “This is the moment, Angela. Thank you for these years by my side. Thank you for letting me being myself and making me smile. Thank you for every second of your life in which you chose me. You'll always be in my heart.”

  Goodbye my life. Goodbye my love

  Fifteen minutes later, after talking with the grieved doctor and the diplomatic lawyer, I signed the papers that I should have signed months ago. Since everything began, since there were no hopes and I insisted on imagining them.

  I watch as the doctor with the nurse’s help, begin to disconnect the machines that keep were keeping my wife in this world.

  I do not let go of Angela's hand until, perhaps, by the rest of her own body, she gives a last and tiny breath and she leaves this world.

  Tears, desolation, loneliness.

  Goodbye my life. Goodbye my love.

  “Death is not any

  life event.

  You cannot live with death.

  If eternity means

  Not an infinite temporal time,

  But the timelessness,

  Then just live forever

  Who lives in the present”

  (Ludwig Wittgenstein)

  CHAPTER 11

  KATE

  The reunion

  New York, two weeks later

  Stuart called me yesterday. I felt like an idiot doubting if I may pick up the phone or not. His voice was so different. Calm, as if he had found the peace he wanted. As if he had let go of that backpack full of stones he was carrying on his back. He was different, nice. He was excited to hear my voice and he said he was looking forward to see me. I did not tell him, but I couldn’t wait to be with him. By believing that our brief history had not been just a "summer love" like so many others in the world, they instantly vanished like a shooting star. I wanted to believe that there could be something real in all the looks we had already been taken it. That it may be something stable and lasting. Not just because ending up alone in a SoHo shack with seven cats or more, but because I really wanted to be with that man.

  I returned to New York a week ago, but I did not dare to call him despite my friends' insistence. "You are really annoyed!" I said, stroking Lucy's cat to practice with my future life partners.

  Now I want to tell them, "See? Everything happens in due time, girls. Everything. I just had to make him suffer. Let him see that he missed me.” All to hide that he had actually been a coward for the fear of the brief but painful word NO.

  I decide to go see my parents. I have not seen them since I ran out of St. Patrick's Cathedral, when Martin said "I do not". Fortunately my mother is not there. My father hugs me and he says excitedly:

  “Come on honey, come on. I want to show you something.”

  He shows me a letter with yellowish edges and his small and perfect letter. This is a touching letter he wrote when I was five years old and he used to read me when I was ten years old. It had been a long time since I had read it and my tears were running out my face with every word:

  To Kate, my daughter.

  19 Things I want you to always remember:

  1. You are no princess and you will never be, unless your mom or dad are kings or you meet a prince and you marry him. You are a wonderfully ordinary girl and if you are to going to identify with something, it does not matter whether it might be with princesses, amazons, warriors, artists or athletes.

  2. Prince Charming does not exist. They belong to fairy tales what people told you, so that you assume that your role in the world is to wait for the ideal man to relieve you of the burdens of being a responsible and independent woman. By saving you from the fatigue of society and make you the mother of children who should complement you as a human being.

  3. All the toys in the world are suitable for you. It is not true that there are boys’ and girls' stuff. They will give you little ovens, baby toys and sets of beauty so that you get used to those activities when you grow up. If you want to have more strollers than dolls, it will be fine. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise.

  4. There are no limits to your desire to be free. The best thing that can happen to you in life is the ability to choose beyond your gender, without conditions and that your choices change as much as you want.

  5. Do not take "a girl should not do that" for an answer. Those people who speak to you like this (even if they are your parents), want to condition you, clip your wings and mark out a path you think you should follow. You must defend your decisions. You have to grow up knowing that those people who hold divisions according to sex, they all have small brains and poor minds.

  6. Climb all the trees as you can. That's not being a tomboy. That is to be alive and to know how to play. Remember that you will need comfortable clothes to do that.

  7. The world is full of beautiful colors. The pink is just one more. May your existence be a rainbow.

  8. Get yourself games that go beyond changing diapers, feeding baby bottles and using plastic pots.

  9. Ignore advertising. Avoid fashion. Avoid all that they mean to oblige you on television, until you can distinguish what it might be worth for you.

  10. Never ever stop asking why things are the way they are. You shouldn’t be satisfied with the first answer. Never have any doubts if you can look for a solution. Knowledge is bright and it can take you everywhere.

  11. Run away from violence. Not because it is the men’s heritage but because it is the tool for morons.

  12. No one will love you more whether you are thin or very tall, or because you have big tits. At least no one worth to know.

  13. It’s okay watching cartoons, but you should read. Read a lot. Read until your eyes hurt. Read stories, novels, pirates, aliens and white whales stories. Even if at first you do not understand what you are reading because you are small. Some of that remains in your head and it opens it.

  14. Do not reject reading the story of Cinderella, but remember that she and all the others, tired of eating partridges in the part that comes after "and they lived happily ever after”.

  15. The same goes for music, the world does not end in Shakira and Selena Gomez. If you can, you should learn how to play some instrument, whatever.

  16. Just getting married and being a mom is one of your possible destinations, but mandatory. Your future is not written in stone, it is like clay and you can mold it.

  17. You will never be too small girl to understand, what happens is that sometimes, big people do not know how to explain things to you.

  18. There were not always female presidents. They are the result of centuries of struggle and effort of all the women in the world. Therefore, do not forget those people, who preceded you, you owe them much of your freedom.

  19. The girls who are half naked on magazine covers and on TV, they do it because they believe they have nothing else to show. You must show your brain, that unlike you ass, you will get more determined and firm over the years.

  I laugh out loud filled with excitement and I hug my father. He is looking at me tenderly and he continues speaking.

  “It's all over, Kate. You will laugh at everything that has happened in a few years. You will remember it as an anecdote. Everything's going to be all right, baby. You will see.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Thank you.”

  After a while, Mom arrives. She finds it difficult to be nice, but still
, I think about her salute as an exceptional compliment.

  “Well, Kate, this tanned of you covers your shadows.”

  6:00 pm

  “Oh, my God!” Stuart is approaching... he is coming towards me, smiley and quiet and when he is in front of me, he caresses my cheek and he gives me an impressive kiss in my mouth. We are not naked under the Greek waters with a huge moon and a beautiful starry sky witnessing our kisses and looks. We have a lot of people around us, wandering the streets of New York in their own bubbles and the loud noise of traffic is anything but romantic. But I do not care. I am with him. I am finally with him and that’s what matters.

  “You do not know how much I've missed you, Branson. The Island was empty without you.”

  “Why did not you call me, Miss Logan?" Do you think that you are going to play it hard?” Stuart laughs.

  “Maybe.”

  We come into a coffee shop minutes later and Stuart seems to be at last, prepared to confess the terrible event of his life. I shudder to hear each of his words, by watching all his tears because of his deceased wife, Angela. The hard moment in which he had to sign the papers to disconnect the machines that were keeping her alive for a year and how bad he was feeling with himself for not having done it before. I know he does not need my sympathy, much less my advice or "you did the right thing." I think I know him a little and I know that's not what he's looking for in me.

  When he finishes telling me his story, he shrugs resignedly and he asks me:

  “So, what can we do now?”

  “Living and enjoying the life, Branson. In the best way we know.”

  «Dear Memory,

  Remember what you have to forget and leave

  that nostalgia in bed.

  Take your smile and let’s enjoy this moment,

  Which although it hurts, it does not kill anymore.

  Best regards,

  Life»

  THE END

  Stuart has gone back to work in television ads and he appears

  sporadically in some American TV series.