In This Life

by Christine Brae

  “At first, I couldn’t believe the coincidence. Can you imagine? How weird was that? To be assigned to the same hospital you worked at! For a long time, I was content to just see you. To be in the same place as you. To watch you give yourself selflessly to others. What was the point in coming back into your life? You looked happy. Dante would show up to take you home a few times and you looked like everything in your life was settled and in place.”

  “It was.” Time to revise. “I mean, it is,” I muttered.

  “And you married him.” He smiled at me as he said this. “Are you happy, Anna?”

  “Dante is so good to me. He loves me so much.” Lame answer. “I love him, yes, and I am happy.” Nice follow up.

  The walkway directly in front of us was filled with people, moving briskly in the chill of the night. The passing of the fall season was evident in the brittle branches of the trees and the lack of life all around us. You see that branch over there? That’s me. I’m about to crack and fall to the ground.

  “That’s great,” he answered, while bobbing his head up and down.

  My emotions began to take over. Memories of the past five years came flooding back, and once again, I felt like I was reliving every minute I spent carrying a torch for him, waiting for him to call me.

  He started out once again. “I’m so sorry about what happened at church. I deserved that. What you said to me then, I deserved every word, and the fact that people heard all about it—I wasn’t ashamed of what that confrontation insinuated. In fact, I didn’t expect anything less from you. I fell in love with that fiery, impassioned, beautiful spirit of yours. And the months that I spent watching you here confirmed nothing but the fact that you’re such an amazing woman. What a gifted doctor you are! I once heard a mother and father speaking about how they couldn’t have survived their daughter’s last days without you.”

  Who said anything about love? Love speaks through actions, love grows through interaction. We had none of that in the last five years.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Donovan and their baby, Louise,” I mumbled softly. She’d had an enlarged heart and there was nothing we could do but wait painfully until it could no longer survive in her tiny body. I didn’t want to talk about my patients, though. I wanted to tell him what I thought so that I could focus my efforts on Dante. Just weeks ago, we were going to seriously plan on having a family together. But tonight, I was no longer sure whether that was what I wanted. I remembered his reaction when he saw us at the apartment and it angered me once again.

  “The nerve of you to expect me to wait,” I said sadly.

  “I never said that.” He glanced around uneasily, pressing his lips in a thin line.

  “Then why were you so surprised that Dante and I were married?”

  “I don’t know. I just didn’t expect it to be the two of you, I guess. He never told me. All the times we spoke, he never mentioned that you were together for that matter. Let alone married.” He paused once again before nervously running his fingers through his hair. His trademark move. When he didn’t know what to do with his hands, he took it out on his hair. I could have almost predicted it. Years ago, I spent hours on Google searching for “Signs that He’s Into You.” Mirroring your movements, combing back his hair is supposed to mean that he’s interested. Baloney.

  “I’m not a priest,” he continued.

  “Yet,” I countered, reprimanding myself for the upsurge of cautious hope. The push and pull was back. I didn’t know what in the world I was looking for in this conversation. So what if he was on the way to becoming a priest? Why did it bother me so much?

  “Not until next May,” he agreed.

  “That’s not relevant,” I snapped angrily. “You’re a deacon. Period. I don’t really get why we’re here.”

  “We’re here because,” he paused to clear his throat, “because I can’t keep watching you from a distance anymore. I need to face this, face you. For the last five years I’ve tried to run away from my confusion. But I never stopped thinking about you, Blue.”

  “You didn’t try to find me,” I said, staring at him indignantly. “You’re a liar.”

  My mood had changed drastically. I was embarrassed about the thoughts that ran through my mind earlier that day. There I was, pushing Dante away for an idea in my head that had probably never been there. I sat up straight and began gathering the empty wrappers around me, stuffing them in their original bag with the empty paper cups. This was me, always cleaning up after everyone. Always making sure to leave things the way they should be.

  “I want to know,” I huffed. “I want to know why you left me that morning.”

  “I mean, does that make sense to you? To change my entire life’s direction based upon a ten-day fling? If I stayed—if I had stayed, I would’ve been on the plane back to the states with you. And I couldn’t let my family down.” This guy just kept pulling all the punches. The questions in my head had quickly evaporated. We were in an endless loop of whys and hows and neither of us knew where this was heading.

  I lifted myself up, paper bag in hand. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. So I’m going to leave now. Goodbye, Jude. Don’t ever show up at my hospital again.”

  He covered his face with his hands before nodding his head and keeping his eyes on the ground. It was as if he had anticipated my reaction. He swallowed sharply before letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes. I chastised myself for wanting to touch his hair one last time. Or his shoulders. Or his lips. But instead I urged my feet to walk in the opposite direction, as far away as possible from this catastrophic predicament, this calamity, this destruction.

  I FOUND ANOTHER batch of missed calls from Dante on my phone, but I didn’t call him back until I was home and settled into bed for the night. I didn’t cry, couldn’t cry. Somehow, the years that passed had tempered my expectations and disappointments, stored them somewhere deep inside. I couldn’t seem to find my bearings. Like a flash of lightning or a burst of stars, these tears had manifested themselves in spurts over a steady period of time, and then they were gone. For years I had played the scene of our reunion over and over in my head. And it sure hadn’t involved something as unimaginable, as unattainable, as ridiculous as this.

  I propped my phone up against the headboard and quickly dialed Dante’s number, posing in front of the camera as I waited for him on the other line.

  “Look at you, Spark,” Dante mused, smiling from ear to ear. You look like an angel sitting among the clouds.”

  I wanted him to ask me. I knew he was dying inside. I was too. I wanted to tell him that it would all be okay, but I couldn’t. Finally, he broke loose.

  “Did you see Jude?”

  “I did.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing much really. We just caught up a little bit and he confirmed that he’s going to be ordained in May of next year.” I scratched the tip of my nose nervously.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Of course,” I said. I made it a point to change the subject. “So, when do you come back to New York?”

  “Spark.” He rubbed his hands together and leaned forward so that our faces touched on camera.

  “You didn’t answer me, Tey. When are you coming back?”

  “Spark,” he said again, this time with a mischievous grin on his face, “it’s been two weeks. I’m horny. Show me.”

  I rolled my eyes. This was such bad timing on his part. “What? No, not tonight. I’m so tired.”

  “But you promised!” he whined. “Come on, come on, come on,” he dared.

  I was visibly irritated, flicking my eyes from side to side in coordination with my head. “Seriously? Please! I’m so tired. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay? I’m going to bed now.”

  “Fine,” he said, sulking.

  “Okay, bye.” I hung up the phone feeling horrible. I knew the way that I reacted only served to show him how affected I was by Jude’s sudden appearance in our lives. I slid off the bed and stood in front of my bathr
oom mirror. My hair rested limply against my shoulders, and my eyes looked murky and dark. I leaned against the sink and closed my eyes. What if? What if this was the choice that would lead to my fate? What if I never got this chance ever again?

  And suddenly, the clouds disappeared. I saw the sudden burst of beautiful sunshine, the waters of Thailand, the sun, the sea.

  It wasn’t over. As clear as that one day in the spring, when all I saw was the endless sky stretched out against the blue horizon in his eyes, it wasn’t over. I could never stand up against his God. My God, our God. I didn’t intend to try to change his mind.

  But I would take six months of him. No reservations, no regrets. If I learned anything about losing my mother, it was that time waits for no one. It will shake you off, walk away and leave you in its dust.

  I had to call Dante back to tell him how sorry I was for hurting him. I paced around the room, redialed his phone number, and patiently waited for him to answer it. The merry sound of Christmas carols leaked in through the paper thin walls of my apartment; someone was singing along and someone else was laughing hysterically.

  “Hello?” he answered testily, the way someone would address a pestering telemarketer.

  “Hi. I’m sorry. I can never lie to you. Yes, I’m feeling sucky tonight.” I tried to sound as repentant as I could. There were two rosaries on the night table. One made out of wood and another made out of pressed roses. I snatched the prettier one in my fingers and began to twist it around.

  “Yeah, okay,” he responded in a dry tone.

  “You’re mad. I get it.” Twist, twist, twist.

  He exhaled loudly. “Look, Anna. I lived in this guy’s shadow for the first few years after you lost your mom. I thought you were over him. Apparently you’re not.”

  “Who said that? How do you know that? I—” I started out. No, no. It was time to cut to the chase. “I’m not. And I have to do something about it.” I pulled open the drawer, retrieved a golden pouch and slipped the rosary in its case.

  “What is it about him, Spark? I’m so fucking angry right now!”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, find the fuck out and get it out of your system. I love you so much, why can’t that be enough for you?”

  “But it is! It is enough for me. It’s just that I have some unfinished business with Jude that I have to put to rest. I need to do this. I need to find out why he’s still here when he shouldn’t be. It should be me and you, and yet he lingers, he persists. My feelings seem to feed him, keep him alive in my head. Please, Tey. Let me figure this all out. Give me some time.”

  “Are we breaking up, Spark?”

  “We have to. Separate. I’m done with living two lives. He was always here. In between us, he was always here.”

  “This is all just bullshit. I can’t do this anymore. We’ll talk when I get back. In the meantime, good luck with whatever it is you’re trying to accomplish.”

  “Dante, please—”

  The line went dead. It didn’t go silent, it didn’t go blank. It separated him from me for good, it killed us, devastated him, set me free. Our line, our connection, our love, gone. Just like that.

  IT HAD BEEN three days since Dante and I last spoke. There were no call backs, no desperate messages nor admissions of newly discovered doubt or regret. I didn’t expect much from him in that sense. In a way, it was a welcome respite from the inevitable decision that I’d made. We were always so good at indulging in the day to day. That’s what we were doing. Existing until we would be forced to face the truth. And for his part, Jude had stopped coming to the hospital. Maybe things would work out on their own.

  Instead of slowing down for the holidays, the emergency room was bursting with activity. Amidst the Christmas trees and bright lights and gaudy decorations, there were tears of joy and sorrow, some lives saved and some lost. Doctors and nurses tried to keep the upbeat mood by wearing awful reindeer ties and Santa embellished scrubs. I was finally off for two days, intent on catching up on some Christmas shopping before being on call for the rest of the year. My shopping list was short, made up of the only people whom I could really call my family. A PlayStation One for Mikey, bought with my saved up lunch money, a special gift for Dante, some books for my dad, a scarf and hat for Maggie, and something I still hadn’t figured out for Donny. For the first time in my life, I didn’t get to send out any Christmas cards. The demands of work and home had just spiraled out of control. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine that my life would turn out this way. The reversal of fortune, the task of bringing up a young man full of promise, the loss of my parents and of our home. Through it all, Dante had been by my side. And here I was, casting him aside for someone who had no right to my heart.

  That day at the mall, I thought about Jude. I wondered where he was and how he would be spending his Christmas. I imagined what he would look like, all decked out in priestly garb to celebrate the church’s most important event. Is it worth it? I wanted to ask him. Is the love of a congregation enough to forsake the love of a woman? Does it keep you warm at night? Does it hold you and support you and steer you through the darkest hours? Does it fill the loneliness in your heart? Does it satisfy your need, fill your soul?

  I could have loved you, I wanted to tell him. I could have given up my entire life for you, followed you anywhere in the world.

  If only you had chosen me.

  THE BRISK WINTRY chill of a snowy night in the city followed me through the front door of my apartment. I arrived home to find Mikey parked in front of the TV, one hand on the game controller and the other around a can of Mountain Dew. The Christmas lights on the tree flickered on just as the timer went off. The place was a far cry from the extravagant living conditions of our former home or of the home that Dante had shared with us, but we had what we needed—a couch, a dining table, a bed, and two nightstands—and it was pointless to fret about furnishing a place that was occupied for only a few days a week. Mikey was only home from school for the holidays, and I was still completing my rotation at the hospital.

  “Hi,” I greeted him as I unbuttoned my coat, hanging it on the wooden peg in the closet. My gaze settled momentarily on a pair of Chanel ballet flats placed neatly by the corner of the shoe rack. It was the only pair of my mother’s shoes that I’d kept, a bit too small, saved as a reminder of our former life and the love that she had for all things fine and beautiful. “What’d you do all day?”

  “Nothing much. Just relaxing,” he answered, his eyes glued to the screen. “Do you think we can order some dinner?”

  “I can make you some mac and cheese,” I answered as I walked towards the kitchen counter. “I won’t have much cash to spend until payday on Thursday. Sorry.”

  “Mac and cheese sounds good. Thank you, Annie,” he said respectfully.

  I headed into the bedroom to change into my pajamas. Minutes later, I laid out some wrapping paper and a pair of scissors on the table before placing a kettle of water on the stove to make myself a cup of tea. I sat on the couch next to him and watched as he packed up his console and turned the TV off.

  “So, you know that I’m working on Christmas Eve all the way until the 26th, right?”

  “And I’m going to Chicago with Dante.”

  “Yup. He’s going to take you with him to spend the holidays with his family. I’ll see you back home on the 27th so that we can drive out to visit Dad.” I was plagued with dismay by my very own words. “I’m sorry that I won’t be with you.”

  “No biggie. You know I enjoy being with the Leolas. They’re all so good to me.”

  “They’re good people. And they love you.” I lovingly reached out to ruffle his hair. It was thick and light and full of curls. He set his eyes shyly on the floor; I missed the days when he was more loving, more demonstrative. As the years went by, I saw the effect that my mother’s passing had on the both of us. It was as if showing too much emotion would cause us to break and crumble into little pieces. For as long as we sk
immed the surface, the tears could be held in place.

  The chime of the doorbell was a welcome intrusion to the wistfulness of the moment, and Mikey stood up to answer it. It was Josh, the college junior who lived on the floor above us, asking Mikey if he wanted to come over. “Annie?” he called out to me. “Is it okay if I go over to Josh’s to play video games?”

  “What about dinner?” I asked, while walking towards the kitchen. “I can make it right now.”

  “No need,” answered Josh. “My mom made some really good meatloaf. Mikey is welcome to have dinner at my place.” Meatloaf? Someone had time to make a meatloaf when I couldn’t even find the time to shave my legs?

  Mikey pasted a large grin on his face. This kid loved to eat. “Please, Annie? Can I just have dinner over there?”

  “Of course you can, if that’s really okay with Josh. But call me every hour just to check in. I want to make sure that Josh isn’t having a wild college party up there tonight,” I teased them lightly.

  Mikey rolled his eyes, though I knew that he always took my instructions seriously. There was no surviving without each other; we protected each other, made sure that we were always safe. He slipped on a pair of running shoes and was out the door in a second.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I needed this time to be alone, to collect my thoughts, to wrap my presents, and write a letter to Dante.

  One hour later, as I stood to admire the beautifully wrapped presents placed neatly under the tree, I ran my hands along the pretty little ornaments that Dante and I had collected over the years. We had so much history together—each little figurine on the tree was a reminder of the trips that we had made and the places that we’d seen. The fondness that I felt for him came rushing back; I decided that nothing in my life was more important than to make amends with the man who saved my life. Before doing that, however, I needed to address some unfinished business.