Myra picks up her phone and walks into the bathroom. She sits down on the toilet seat lid and stares at the box in her hands. “I will admit it's weird, but I can't be pregnant. I just can't be. I'm still nursing Matthew, and I haven't even had a period yet.”
“Well, you probably ovulated and Dylan's super sexy sneaky sperm jumped on that egg like white on rice, and that's why you didn't have a period. But remember, you've been telling me how Matthew's been eating more table foods and not nursing as much.”
“I know… but Dylan and I have been trying to be careful—”
“Oh my god, I do not want to hear your lame-o excuses. Oh, Dylan darling, please don't drill me five times tonight with your heavy duty power tool, baby. Let's just beat the sheets three times. Let's be 'care-ful’…” Susie mocks in a high-pitched, annoying voice.
“Shut up. We have four kids. We don't have sex multiple times every night.”
Susie giggles. “Honey, you get way more action than I do and my kids are practically grown. Here I go and lose all this weight and get all skinnylicious, ready to have Jeff boink my brains out and now he can't get it up. That man's wiener is softer than a melted marshmallow. Of course he's all embarrassed about it and absolutely refuses to admit he has a problem and will not go see a doctor. He's so stupidly pig-headed. I want to beat him with something, like pound him over the head with my George Foreman Grill. Or smack him repeatedly with my old belt because we both know that humongous beast could inflict some pain. Doesn't he understand that I have needs and those needs include a hard weenie? I mean everyone in the free world over forty uses Viagra… except for my husband. I see those commercials that talk about the four-hour hard-ons and I want that. I want to abuse Jeff’s hard wiener for exactly three hours and fifty-nine minutes before I have to rush the man to the hospital.”
“You're insane,” Myra says, shaking her head.
Susie does this weird thing where she puts the phone closer and closer to her face until all Myra can see is a set of very large nostrils on her screen. “Guess what I did?” Susie asks.
Myra giggles at the nostrils. “What?”
“I ordered him some Horny Goat Weed.”
Myra busts out laughing and laughs until she has tears in her eyes.
“Quit laughing. It's supposed to help him get it up. It's like some kind of aphrodisiac. I'm going to secretly sprinkle it on his fiber cereal in the morning. I can't wait to see what happens. He'll probably be at work and boing he'll start getting random hard-ons and won't know what the hell hit him. I might have to show up at his office to check his vitals… and make sure I'm completely underwearless.” Susie’s whole face comes back on the screen, and she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
Myra wipes her eyes. “You're killing me and grossing me out all at the same time.”
Susie shrugs, still grinning. “Sorry. I love to overshare with you. Now hurry up and pee on the stick. Ooooh, I get to come up with some new 'Mel' names. And you're getting a new name too, little missy.
From now on you are Mrs. Fertile D. Myrtle, you baby making machine.”
“I can't be pregnant,” Myra moans again.
“Yes, you are, Myrtle,” Susie says, giggling.
Myra's eyes dart to the bedroom when she hears a loud wail come blaring from the baby monitor that sits on her bedside table. “Matthew's awake. Let me call you back.”
“No! You need to take that stinking test first. I need to—”
“My baby comes first. Bye!” Myra says before sticking her tongue out at Susie's irate face and promptly hanging up on her.
* * *
The following afternoon, Myra's stomach churns and her mouth fills with saliva. She knows what's coming next. “Here's the paper,” she says hurriedly, setting a stack of blank paper in front of the kids. “Crayons and markers are right there. I have to run to the bathroom, but you can start.”
She barely makes it to the toilet before she empties the contents of her stomach. With a groan, she splashes some water on her face and rinses her mouth out. Just as she steps out of the bathroom, she stops and listens to the conversation going on around the table.
“Mel lives in heaven,” Megan says, “with the angels.”
“So he's got wings like Batman?” Max asks.
“No, dummy,” Megan barks back. “Batman's wings are black. Mel's wings are white.”
“He fwies?” Madison asks.
“Yeah,” Megan says. “Isn't that cool?”
“I wanna fly,” Max says. “Does he have feathers?”
“Probably,” Megan says. “I think all wings have feathers.”
“Cool,” Max says. “But how do you know they're white? They could be black. He's a boy.”
“Because he wivs in da cwouds,” Madison says. “And cwouds aw white.”
Myra quickly rubs the moisture from her eyes and walks around the corner towards the table. “How's it going?” she asks the kids, sitting down next to Max.
They all excitedly show her their pictures. Megan has drawn a picture of an angel with big wings and a rainbow above his head. Her heart clenches when she sees the bottom of the picture that has a mom, dad, three kids, a baby and a dog… her family.
Madison has drawn a stick figure and tried to add wings to it, but it just looks like two large rectangles on a stick figure. She has colored everything in pinks and purples.
Max has drawn a stick figure as well with huge wings on the side colored in black.
“Okay,” Myra says. “These are beautiful. Now don't forget to write your letter to Mel on the other side.” She looks at Max. “Do you want me to help you with yours?” She knows Max’s aversion to writing.
He nods and hands his paper to her. “What do you want it to say?” she asks.
“Use this,” he says, shoving a black crayon at her. “I want it in black, like Batman,” he whispers.
“Okay,” she whispers back, smiling. “What do you want to say to him?”
He frowns and purses his lips for a second. “I wish I could come see your house. I bet it's really cool if it's up in the clouds.”
Megan interrupts. “But his house isn't—”
“Megan,” Myra says in a stern voice. “This is Max's letter. He can say what he wants to.”
“Fine,” she says with a huff as she goes back to her letter.
“Okay, Max. You can continue,” Myra says to him. She reads his letter back to him so that he knows what he's said so far.
He frowns again, thinking. “What kind of toys do you have? Do you like Batman? I do. I also like Ironman. He flies superfast but doesn't have wings. Do your wings itch? Because feathers are kinda tickly…”
Myra has to cover her mouth to stifle a giggle.
Max takes a second to rub his freckled nose. “Oh, and I want to ask him if he can come to my house and play with me. Tell him there's only girls here and my brother's a baby.”
Myra watches his little face as he frowns, trying to think of more things to say. “Is that all you want to say?” she asks softly. He responds by nodding. “This is a really great letter, Max.”
He smiles broadly at her. She wraps her arm around him, pulling him onto her lap.
“You know that Mel can't come here to play with you, right?”
His innocent blue eyes stare at up her. “Why?”
“Well, once someone goes to heaven, they can't come back here to earth. Because heaven is such a wonderful, beautiful special place, they don't ever want to leave.”
“But doesn't he miss us?”
Myra has to bite her lip to keep the tears in. She clears her throat. “Yes. I'm sure he does, sweetheart.”
“I'm done,” Megan announces.
“Me too,” pipes in Madison.
“You don't need help with your letter, Madison?” Myra asks.
“No, mommy… I did it aw by mysef.”
“I’m so proud of you,” Myra says to her.
“Mommy?” Megan says.
“Yes, s
weetie?”
“I decided to make a letter for Matthew since he can’t do one. Here it is,” she says, handing Myra a new sheet. It has a picture of a baby with a large angel hovering over him.
“It’s beautiful, Megan, thank you.”
“You’re welcome, mommy.”
“All right… You all can go play, but remember your dad is coming home early today so we can go see Mel, okay?”
They all charge off. Myra flips over Matthew’s picture that Megan drew and reads the back.
Dear Mel,
I’m Megan and I’m writing this for my baby brother. His name is Matthew. He can’t write yet. He likes to chew on lots of things. He slobbers and that bothers me.
I drew a picture of him on the back of this. I drew a picture of you too. I hope you like it.
Love,
Megan and Matthew
Myra sets the letter aside and picks up Megan's picture, turning it over to read her letter.
Dear Mel,
Did you get my other letters? I'm in third grade now. I love it. I have lots of friends. My best friend is Jilly. She’s my cousin. I hope you have lots of friends in heaven. Do they make you go to school in heaven?
Love,
Megan
Myra picks up Madison's letter.
Deer Mel,
I lik u. Ar clowds soft?
Madion
Myra stares at the missing S in her name for a moment before dropping her head into her hands and letting the tears flow. She quickly wipes her eyes when she hears Dylan's truck pull into the garage.
A few minutes later, Dylan steps into the kitchen. “What's wrong?” he asks, tugging her into his arms.
“Nothing... It's just the letters. It gets to me every time.”
Dylan nods, kissing her tears away. He sits down, pulling Myra onto his lap. He picks the letters up and reads them. He hugs her, wiping a tear away before clearing his throat. “All right... Well, let's get these ready.”
He folds the letters and hands them to Myra to tuck into envelopes. She then attaches them to the balloons she picked up earlier. Max, of course, wanted a Batman balloon. Megan picked out a really pretty one with flowers on it, and Madison chose one with Cinderella on it. Myra chose a simple blue balloon for Matthew.
Dylan kisses her softly. “I'll go round up the kids. You ready to go?”
Myra takes in a deep breath and nods.
* * *
Dylan frowns the closer they get to Mel's grave. He sees a car there that he doesn't recognize.
“Who is that?” Myra asks.
“I don't know,” Dylan says, pulling in behind them. The car doors open and out steps Sabrina... a very pregnant Sabrina.
Myra gasps.
“Holy…” he starts to say before Myra squeezes his hand to stop the profanity from falling from his lips. He's not seen Sabrina since that night in the hospital so many years ago when they said goodbye to each other. He talked to her a couple of times after that night to check up on her to see how she was recovering from her injuries, but he's not seen her since.
“Oh my goodness,” Myra gushes. “That's Officer Garcia with her.”
Dylan frowns, staring intently at the guy, trying to recall who he is when memories of the policeman that took them to the hospital flood back. That was the night he told Myra he loved her… in the backseat of that dude's cop car.
Myra helps get the kids out of the SUV, making sure they hold tightly to their balloons while Dylan pulls a sleeping Matthew from his car seat. He carefully tucks Matthew’s head against his neck, pulling a blanket out and wrapping it over him to protect him from the cold.
Closing the door, his eyes meet Sabrina’s. She frowns, studying him intently before looking at Matthew in his arms. She still looks the same, just a little older, her hair a little shorter.
“Hey, kids, come over here first,” he calls out to them. “I want to introduce you to someone.”
“Sabrina. Hi,” he says, leaning forward to give her a quick half-hug.
“Dylan, I can’t believe it’s you,” she says, smiling. “It's so good to see you again.”
“You remember Myra?”
“Of course...” The two women smile at each other and quickly shake hands.
“And this is Marco,” Sabrina says. “I'm not sure if you remember him…”
“I do,” Dylan says. The two men quickly greet each other.
“Kids, this is Sabrina,” Dylan says. “And these are my kids. The one wrestling with her balloon over there is Megan, she's eight, and the big guy holding his mom’s hand is Max, he's six.” Dylan looks down at his leg. “Ah, yes, and the one hanging on my leg happens to be Madison, she’s ten…”
“Daddy…” Madison says, interrupting him.
Dylan stares down at her. “What?”
“I not ten. I’m fo.”
“Really?” he says, winking at her. “I guess I forgot, pumpkin.”
“You so siwee, daddy,” she says, grinning up at him.
“And this sleepy guy I’m holding is Matthew, he's eight months.”
Sabrina smiles brightly at the kids. “It's a pleasure to meet each and every one of you.”
“Daddy…?” Madison says, tugging on Dylan's hand.
“What, sweetheart?” he says, looking down at her again.
“Is she a weel pwincess? She's so pwetty.”
Sabrina tosses her head back, laughing.
“No, she's not a princess, sweetheart,” Dylan says with a smile.
Myra touches Dylan’s arm, smiling up at him. “Excuse me. Kids…?” she says, interrupting. “Let's go let the balloons off for Mel, okay? Marco, do you want to come with us? We can do some catching up.”
Marco nods and follows after Myra and the kids, leaving Sabrina, Dylan and Matthew alone.
Sabrina stares after the kids as they run from them. “Dylan. Your kids… your family… they are amazing.”
“Thanks. They are. How have you been?”
“Good.”
“Did you end up moving to New York?”
Sabrina laughs. “No. Those plans definitely fell through.”
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Oh, no… they fell through in a good way. Because of him,” she says, nodding towards Marco. “After you left that night in the hospital, he came in and talked to me, and he ended up staying. I had every intention of moving to New York. He was going to quit his job and go with me, but then I realized I couldn't be that far away from Mel. So I stayed and we've been together ever since. We even got married,” she says, holding up her hand. “Two years ago.”
“That's great.”
Sabrina looks at Dylan's wedding ring. “I see you two tied the knot as well. How long have you been married?”
“Seven years.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
Sabrina looks out towards the kids again. “I can't believe we haven't run into each other here before now.”
“Well, we only bring the kids here twice a year… on Mel’s birthday and today.”
Sabrina nods. “What's with the balloons?”
“Oh. We have a tradition where the kids write Mel a letter and send it up to him in heaven. We originally just started with the balloons when the kids were smaller, but now that they're older, they like writing him letters too.”
“That's… that's so beautiful,” Sabrina says, her brows furrowed. They watch as the kids let the balloons go, the wind lifting them quickly into the sky. They are both quiet… both of them remembering. They continue watching until the balloons are just tiny dots in the gray overcast sky.
Dylan clears his throat. “So, is this your first...?” he asks, motioning towards her stomach.
Sabrina puts her hands on her belly. “Yeah, this is our first. It's taken me a long time to get to this point.”
“I understand.”
She stares at him and then Matthew for a moment. “How did you do it?”
Dylan watches his ki
ds chase each other laughing, their cheeks pink from the cold. “It was a lot easier than I thought it would be. Just look at them.”
Sabrina stares at the kids for a moment before nodding in understanding.
“You'll find that there's plenty of room in your heart,” Dylan says. “Mel has his own special place in mine, he always will. But so do these guys. They all have an equal part. And I treasure every minute I get with them because I came to realize that if I lost them all tomorrow, it would still be worth it.”
He turns to Sabrina. “I don't ever regret having Mel. I think I used to. But now, I'd do it all over again, lose him all over again just to get to spend that small amount of time with him that I had.”
Sabrina smiles, her eyes teary. “Me too…”
They're quiet for a few more minutes. Dylan adjusts Matthew on his shoulder.
“It was so wonderful to see you again, Dylan, and to see your beautiful family. I know this may seem a little strange to say, but it's kind of like we've lived two lives, isn't it? Our life we had together with Mel seems so distant, like it happened a lifetime ago. Like it was a whole other life somehow...”
“Yeah… we both got a second chance.”
“We did.”
Megan runs up to Dylan. “Daddy, I'm cold.”
“Okay,” he tells her. “Hang on just a second.”
He looks at Sabrina. “It was really great to see you again too, Sabrina, and I really mean that. I'm happy for you and Marco. You take care, okay?”
“You too,” Sabrina says with her hand resting gently on her stomach. She smiles softly and gives Dylan a nod.
Dylan picks up Megan and carries her and Matthew over to Mel's tombstone. He looks down at it for a moment. “I love you, son. Be waiting for me. I can't wait to see you again,” he prays silently to himself. Myra comes up and takes Matthew from his arms.
“Everything okay?” she asks softly.
“Yeah,” he answers with a nod. “Everything is as it should be.”
Color of Forgiveness Page 49