by Mary Campisi
“The jewels are on the edges,” he said. “I don’t see any inside.”
“You have to look very hard, and be patient. One day you’ll find it, right there, staring back at you.”
“Huh.” He held the mirror up to the sun, squinted. Then he looked at Alex, “Can you… can you write to me and I’ll write back?”
She should cut everything off now, make it easier on herself instead of dying a little more every time she opened her mailbox, but she couldn’t. “If your father says it’s okay.”
The front door of the Androvich house opened and Gracie and Stella stepped outside, carrying shopping bags.
“Mom doesn’t think they have food in Virginia, so she’s making sure you don’t starve.”
“Stop, Gracie.” Stella shook her head, smiled at Alex. “You can’t tell me they make bread dumplings in Virginia; I won’t believe it.”
“No, they don’t make bread dumplings,” Alex said, thinking of the wonderful taste.
“Right. And you won’t be getting babovka or chicken paprikash either.” She pulled out a large Ziploc baggie. “Inside here”—she pointed to the baggie—“are a dozen or so recipes. How to make stuffed cabbage, chicken paprikash, spaghetti sauce, homemade bread, noodles. What else? Oh, when you make the dumplings, don’t forget, slice them with a thread. No knives.”
Alex stared at the baggie. If Stella had given her a gift from Bloomingdale’s it could not have touched her half as much as the recipes inside the baggie. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to hold onto her composure. “Thank you, Stella,” she said, her voice cracking. “Thank you so much.”
The older woman set the bags down, held out her arms. “I’m sure gonna miss you, child,” she said, pulling her into her embrace. “I love all my children, but I’ll be damned if I understand any of them.”
Gracie was next. “Alex.” They held each other, the ache and sadness flowing between them. Gracie had been the closest she’d ever come to having a sister… or a best friend. “I… I really would have liked to have had you for a sister-in-law.”
“I know.”
“Maybe he’ll—”
“No.” Alex pulled away, met her gaze, “He won’t.”
Gracie nodded.
From the corner of her eye, Alex saw a flash of silver coming up the driveway. Nick! She had not expected to see him again. She wasn’t ready, not now, not when her emotions were so raw, the wounds too open. He parked his Navigator behind her, got out.
“Hi, Nick,” Gracie said. “Bye, Nick.”
He didn’t answer—his eyes were on Alex. Stella and Gracie disappeared into the house. Justin was nowhere in sight. Alex forced herself to plant her feet and stand firm when what she really wanted to do was get away, run, fast.
“Hello, Nick.” Incredible that those were her words, her voice.
“You left last night before I could thank you for what you did.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You gave a very convincing speech.”
It wasn’t a speech, it was the truth. Did you hear it? Did you listen to any of it? “Thank you.”
“Your uncle tried to discount most of what you said, but I don’t think he was very effective. They’re holding a vote today at one o’clock.”
She nodded, “And Norman? What’s his stand on all this?”
“Wavering a little, I think. He was there last night, did you know that? I guess what you said really tore him up, so, who knows? I’m going to see him when I leave here, maybe help change his mind.”
“I hope it works out.”
“Yeah, me too. At least that’s something we can hope for.”
“Nick… I…” There was so much she wanted to say, a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough. “I…”
“Yeah.” His eyes moved over her face, her body, back to her face. “Me too.”
Then he was gone.
***
Sapphire Lake was the last stop before she left Restalline for good. It seemed only fitting that this place should be her last memory, her treasure to take away in her mind, her heart. Was it only two months ago that she and Nick had come here, shared their differing philosophies on beauty, wealth? He’d told her the story of his grandparents settling in Restalline and his grandmother who sold her sapphire earrings so her husband could purchase a track of land. And his grandfather, so touched by what she’d done that he’d named a body of water after her selfless act?
Alex sat down on the bank, splayed her fingers in the soft grass. She closed her eyes, tilted her head to the sun, and let its rays wash over her, cleanse her, heal her. Nick. She loved him. She would always love him.
A car door slammed behind her, followed by the sound of footsteps and a dog yelping. Alex swung around, saw Justin heading toward her.
“Alex!” He was waving his arms.
“Justin! What are you doing?” Jet ran up to her, sniffed, ran away.
“I’m coming with you! Jet! Jet! Come back here!”
Alex scrambled to her feet. Justin had been hiding in her car? The little scamp! Now she’d have to take him back to his father… have to see Nick again… would it never end?
Jet tore off around the lake, zigzagging, barking, picking up sticks and tufts of grass along the way. Justin ran after him, yelling his name, exciting the dog with his high-pitched demands. Alex kept an eye on both animal and boy. “Justin! Come back here!” He was getting too close to the water. “Justin!”
There was a splash and Jet was in the water, his small body bobbing up and down after something only he could see. “He’s going to drown! He’s going to drown!” Justin jumped in after him, arms paddling, feet kicking wildly as he tried to close the distance between himself and the dog.
Alex watched, frozen. Dear God, let them be okay, dear God, let them be okay.
They were almost to the middle of the lake when Justin reached Jet, grabbed him by the collar, but the dog squirmed, got away. “Jet! Jet!” Suddenly, Justin let out a howl, “Alex! Help! My leg! It hurts. I can’t move it.”
Fear ripped over her, tore at her. “Paddle, Justin, use your hands.”
“My leg! My leg!”
She ran to the other side of the lake. “It’s a cramp. Just try to relax… use your hands.” Alex eyed the stretch of water, gulped in air. She hadn’t been in water other than to shower or bathe since the scuba diving debacle ten years ago. Oh, God! Help me! Help me!
“Alex—” Justin’s head went under the water. Seconds later, he resurfaced, choking, gasping for air. “Alex—” He went under a second time, came back up, arms flailing, screaming. “Alex!”
There was no more time to think or hesitate. If she didn’t do something he wouldn’t make it. “I’m coming, Justin.” She flung off her shoes, stared one more time at the water, then focused on Justin’s head. Justin. Justin. Think of Justin. Alex dove in, slicing through the chilly water, propelled past her fears through sheer will and need. He went down a third time when she was twenty feet away. This time he did not come up. She dove beneath the surface, desperate, frantic. Jesus, God, where is he? Then her hand brushed against his shoe and she latched on, pulled his small body up and out of the water. Justin emerged choking, coughing, eyes red, arms wound around her neck. Alex swam to shore, slowly, Justin shivering and clinging to her side. When they reached the bank, Jet ran up to them, a yelping scrap of wet black fur.
“See? He’s fine,” Alex said, collapsing on the grass. “You saved him, Justin.”
“Yeah.” He coughed again. “And you saved me.” They lay on the ground, sucking in air, until eventually their breathing evened. “Alex?”
“Huh?”
“Aren’t you… aren’t you”—he turned on his side, looked at her—“afraid of the water?”
“Uh-huh, I am.” She met his gaze, “But sometimes there are things that are more important than what we’re afraid of”—she touched his cheek—“like you. Sometimes we have to fight back those fears so we can help someone or do something important. Like
now.”
“Oh. So are you still afraid of the water?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh.” He looked away, looked back. “Because, you know that mirror you gave me, the one with all the jewels and the hidden one in the middle? I…I had it in my back pocket…and when I started sinking…I felt it fall out.”
“Oh.” Oh. She looked at the lake, so blue and quiet, yet so cold… sometimes there are things that are more important than what we’re afraid of… She sat up. “I’ll be right back.”
Justin’s face lit up, “Thanks, Alex.”
She walked to the edge of the lake, closed her eyes, and dove in. When she reached the place where she thought Justin had gone under, she plunged beneath the surface, forced herself to the bottom and began scouring the murky floor. Old pop bottles, a bicycle tire, rocks, a shoe, but no mirror. She swam up to the surface, sucked in air and made three more attempts, all in vain. “I can’t find it,” she yelled to Justin. “I need a break, then I’ll try again.”
“Okay.”
“Come to this side,” she said pointing to the west side of the bank. “It’s a shorter swim.”
“Alex! No!”
But she wasn’t listening, all she wanted to do was get back on the ground and plunk her body on the grass. She was halfway between the middle of the lake and the shore when her leg caught on something. What the! It felt like a wire of some sort. She tried to kick her way out of it, but it only tightened. “Justin! I’m stuck!”
“Alex!” He was standing on the shore, his voice filled with panic. “I tried to tell you, I tried to tell you not to go there. There’s a big wire”—he spread his arms out—“none of us kids are allowed to go on this side of the lake ’cause you can get caught in there.”
Alex tried not to let him hear the terror creeping into her voice. “Well, I’m caught in there. Every time I move my leg, the wire gets tighter. I need you to get help. Go to my car, bring my cell phone… it’s in my purse.”
He stared at her, eyes wide, mouth trembling. “You aren’t…you won’t…you won’t die, will you?”
“No.” Her arms were already heavy as she paddled to keep afloat. “No, I won’t die.”
He ran then, fast, with Jet on his heels. It seemed like hours before he made it back, although it was only minutes. Amazing, how time can dangle in infinity when you don’t want it to, and then leap back through when you’re hoping it will stop.
“Here it is.” Justin held up her cell phone. “Now what?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Call your Dad. Then call 911.” It took four attempts before Justin figured out how to get the call to go through. Alex tried not to think about the cold water sucking the energy from her body, tried not to focus on the cramp starting up her left leg. Her neck was stiff, the muscles in her arms aching from the continuous movement necessary to stay afloat. She was cold, so cold. Her father’s words lapped over her… Next year, you can come with us and I’ll show you what heaven looks like. Next year… Was this to be her heaven? Was she going to die with the mirror of truth lying at the bottom of the lake? And then Justin’s fearful words, swirling around her as cold gripped her, and she fought for consciousness… You aren’t…you won’t…you won’t die, will you?
No, Justin, no, I won’t die… I won’t die.
***
He came to her in a dream, his voice a soft, gentle rush of warmth covering her body, wrapping her in love and hope, keeping her safe, cherished.
I love you, Alex… I love you, Alex… I love you…
Over and over she heard the words, sometimes a mere whisper, other times a long, drawn-out sigh, and still others, a heart-wrenching cry. If this was heaven, she could ask for no more than to hear the man she had loved with her whole being speak endlessly of his love for her. If this was heaven… A sharp pain stabbed her left leg. If this was heaven, she’d feel no pain. Her eyes flew open.
Nick was leaning forward in a chair, his head in his hands. “I love you, Alex.”
“I love you, too.”
Slowly, he lifted his head, met her gaze. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair disheveled, his jaw unshaven. “Alex,” he breathed, “thank God. Thank God.”
She lifted her hand and he took it, kissed her fingers, closed his eyes, and rubbed his cheek against her skin. “Forgive me for letting my pride get in the way, for not seeing how much I needed you until I almost lost you.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Nick. I just… I just want to put it behind us… start over.”
He leaned forward, kissed her lips. “I’ll make you happy, I promise.”
“You already have.” She touched his cheek, pulled him closer. “You’ve given me my very own slice of heaven.” Her mouth brushed against his, once, twice, three times.
“Hey, break it up, break it up.” The voice behind them could be none other than Michael Androvich. He stood there, grinning, one arm flung around Elise Pentani’s shoulders. “Thank God, you’re awake,” he said to Alex. “This man’s been a real maniac, driving us all crazy worrying about you.” He turned to Nick. “Did you worry about me like that, your own brother, when I was lying half dead in the woods?”
Nick shook his head. “You’re such an idiot, Michael.”
“Of course, I’m only his brother”—he looked at Alex—“and what are you to him, exactly?” He scratched his head, rubbed his jaw. “Oh, yeah, that’s right… his future wife.”
“Usually, it’s the involved party who proposes not the involved party’s brother,” Nick said.
“I know, I know, but who knows how long it’ll take you to get around to it? Alex, if he doesn’t pop the question in three months, you come see me, I’ll get him moving.”
Nick laughed, shook his head. “Speaking of popping the question?”
“December twenty-fourth,” Elise said, smiling.
“She won’t live with me, so I have to marry her.”
“Michael—”
He turned to Elise, brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I want to marry her,” his voice was low, husky, “the sooner the better.”
Alex couldn’t believe the man standing at the foot of her bed was Michael Androvich. He was gentle, clean shaven, sans ball cap or rude comments… civilized, that’s what he was and it was very appealing.
“Shit!”
Well, almost civilized.
“I mean heck. Where’d I put that damn, I mean darn bag?”
Elise held up a small brown bag. He smiled, kissed her on the mouth, “Thanks, Babe.” Then he turned to Alex. “Before I forget, Mom said to tell you Rudy found the mirror. Said you’d know what that meant.” He cleared his throat, shifted from one foot to the other. “I know I haven’t been exactly nice to you since you came—especially that first time”—he had the good grace to turn a dull shade of red—“but this is for you.” He held out the bag.
“Thank you, Michael.” She reached inside, pulled out a hard object covered with tissue paper. When she pushed the paper aside, she could barely see through the tears. It was one of Michael’s boxes, a beautiful, rich cherry. She ran her hands along the edges, lifted the lid to peer inside at the burgundy velvet. Michael had told her that his boxes weren’t for sale; they would only be given as gifts.
And he’d done just that. He’d given her a gift of his friendship.
“Welcome to the family.”
***
It was late. Nick had gone home a little while ago to get some sleep and reassure Justin and the rest of the Androvich family that she was going to be okay, and, equally important, that she was staying in Restalline.
Alex closed her eyes, happy yet exhausted. She’d fought two fears these last few days and battled her way through both to emerge the victor. The first was the water, the second, more treacherous, was almost losing Nick.
She didn’t hear the man’s footsteps as he entered her room, came to stand beside her bed. Not until he spoke, in a voice that she recognized as vaguely familiar but somehow differen
t, did she realize that she was not alone.
“Alex?”
She opened her eyes, stared. “Uncle Walter?”
Of course, it was Uncle Walter, she knew her uncle. But the man standing in front of her didn’t look like the man she’d grown used to seeing for the past twenty-odd years. That Uncle Walter always wore a suite with a silk handkerchief tucked in the pocket, and fine, hand-tailored linen shirts. Even on Saturdays he donned gabardine or wool. And his face, always clean shaven, nails well-manicured, hair trimmed and re-trimmed. His voice was steady, sure, his words clipped, demanding. Walter Chamberlain was power.
The man before her was none of those. His shirt was wrinkled, sweat-stained under the arms, no tie, hair disheveled. But it was the way his shoulders slumped forward in obvious resignation, perhaps defeat, and the wavering in his voice that shocked her most, told her something was terribly wrong.
“Alex,” he said again. “I came as soon as I could. I was on my way back home, thought I’d check in with Kraziak,” his voice cracked. “He told me.”
“I’m fine, really.” Why are you here?
“Would you have risked your life for that ridiculous mirror your father gave you?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Would it have been worth it?”
She nodded. “Yes, yes it would have been.”
“I see. What you said last night…about lacking…in your life…did you mean it?”
Alex looked away. He’d never understand.
“Do you hate me so much?” The words were filled with agony. “So much that you can’t credit me with one good thing in your life?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze. His face looked hollowed-out, a shadow of its former strength as though he were diminishing right before her. “I don’t hate you, Uncle Walter. I loved…love you, but I can’t live my life for you anymore.” She blinked hard. “Ever since I came to live with you, I’ve done nothing but try to please you, do what you and Aunt Helen wanted me to do, expected me to do. And do you know why? So I could get a small scrap of praise, a pat on the head or a nod… I settled for that because what I really wanted, what I needed most of all, I knew I’d never get.” She swiped at her cheeks. “Do you know what that was, Uncle Walter? Do you have any idea what I’ve been working for all these years? Do You?” Her voice cracked, dipped to a whisper. “All I ever wanted, ever, was your love.”