In This Life

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In This Life Page 25

by Christine Brae


  Just like every book with a beginning and an end, I decided to proclaim that night as the genesis of my life’s story. I guess that was the wonderful thing about starting over. Although you never forgot the past, it’s what happened from that day forward that truly mattered. It became clear to me that instead of harping on the fact that God didn’t grant me my one big miracle, I should be relishing in the little ones I received from Him every single day.

  Tomorrow, I thought to myself, as I yawned sleepily into my pillow—tomorrow I would begin to live again. I wouldn’t disappoint them and I would honor my promise to Dante.

  “YOU LOOK SO stunning, Mags,” I said as she stood in front of the majestic mirror in the lavishly decorated dressing room of the hotel. I slipped a clip in her hair to keep her veil from falling off. “Donny is a very lucky man.”

  “Thank you, my dear friend. If only you could see yourself as others see you. You’re glowing, Spark.”

  “Ugh. Growing, you mean.” I laughed. “I feel like a kangaroo despite being in this beautiful Peter Langner dress. But I love the way its length covers up my swollen legs.”

  “Pregnant or not pregnant, you’re beautiful, Anna.” She wrapped her arms around me at the risk of getting my makeup all over her dress. “Are you okay? Will you be okay? You left the dinner early, and I know you needed some time alone.”

  “Things changed after last night, Mags. I had a dream about Dante and my mother,” I said.

  “And?” she asked curiously. Her eyes brightened up as she smiled at me.

  “And they’re okay. They really are okay. I can stop worrying about them now.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “I love you, Anna. And I regret with all my heart that I didn’t tell you about Jude five years ago. I was wrong to belittle what you had with him. I am so sorry, and I can never take back your tears. But things will get better, I promise.”

  I didn’t want to see the droplets of rain in her eyes. Today was a day for sunshine. “Please don’t cry. This is your special day. I love you too, Maggie. I know you were just trying to protect me. It just wasn’t meant to be. It’s time to go. I’ll see you at the other end of the church. Here’s to new beginnings!”

  I WATCHED HER walk down the aisle with tears in my eyes. She was a sight to see—a vision of loveliness gliding through the clouds to join herself with the man of her dreams. As the bridal chorus began to play, a collage of images started running through my mind. The beauty of the moment, the love in the air, the friendships, the sorrow, and the continuation of life for the living. It all started to make sense. Everything is part of a plan. I was meant to learn about Jude’s ordination because I needed to give him his peace. Step by step, as she got closer and closer, each moment in time was suspended in the air, and I was soaring along with it. I glanced at my watch to see that the wedding had started forty-five minutes late. I had fifteen minutes to get to him.

  I wasn’t going to stop him from giving himself to God. What I needed was closure. I wanted to tell him how proud I was of him; I wanted to share his special moment, be there for him, be strong for him and assure him that things would all work out. That he would go on to live a remarkable life filled with service and grace. That everything did happen for a reason, and that he had restored my faith in God.

  I stood impatiently as I waited for Maggie to reach me, shifting my balance from one foot to the other, straightening my dress, swinging my hands back and forth. Did she have to take so damn long? Poor Donny had been waiting for a year to do this. Hurry up!

  Finally she was here, her father in tears as he handed his baby girl over to Donny.

  “Psst. Maggie!” I hissed, just as the priest walked down the steps of the makeshift altar to begin his blessing.

  She turned her head towards me in surprise. I motioned for her to come closer. She did, and so did the rest of her ten foot train. She left her place beside Donny and stood right off to the side of the room.

  “What’s wrong, Spark? Is it the babies?”

  “Maggie! I have to go! Your wedding is so damn late! I have to go and see Jude!”

  “Why? Why are you going?”

  “God helps those who help themselves. I have to let him know that things will be all right.”

  She let out a squeak that rocked the entire room before pushing me away in the opposite direction.

  “Go! Go! Just go! I’ll see you when you get back!” She turned to the confused audience and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Peter! Peter! Where are you? Go with her!” But before he could even react, I was gone.

  I’D MADE A lot of stupid decisions in my life, and this one would go down in the books as the ultimate one. I hopped on the shuttle bus, still wearing my bridesmaid’s dress, and sat restlessly as it made its way through the traffic in the city. They said that Saint Peter’s Square was all but two miles away from the hotel, but it took an eternity to get there. All throughout the grueling ride, I got up a few times in an attempt to get off the bus and walk. But each time I tried, the high heels on my feet reminded me that riding the bus was a better option than waddling down the cobbled streets of Rome. It was almost two o’clock by the time I hobbled up the steps to the church, ran past the tall colonnade that flanked every corner, and wove my way around the sea of people that were here to witness the same thing that I had come for. The grandiosity of the basilica, with its painted ceilings and endless aisles, overwhelmed me. The prayer alcoves, the saints and statues, they looked at me with pity in their eyes.

  “You fool,” they said to me. “You had the chance to take one of ours, and you gave him up. You should have known that we don’t make trades. Life’s too precious to engage in barter. Fate has no negotiation.”

  I tried to find him, tried to see through the crowds, but the men at the altar looked like tiny ants from where I stood. The church was quiet, filled with somber silence as I arrived in time to watch ten men dressed in white robes lie face down on the floor as an aria of song filled the air. There were so many men with dark hair, and I was sure he was one of them, so I focused my attention on the man at the end of the line and imagined that it was him, promising a life of service and honor to God.

  “Remembering that you have been chosen among men and constituted in their behalf to attend to the things of God… with the sole intention of pleasing God and not yourselves,” an elderly voice rang out clearly through the speakers surrounding the pulpit.

  I had seen enough. This validated the end of the line for me; in my heart, I had endorsed his decision and I prayed that he would find his happiness and peace. I couldn’t bear to live in grief any longer. I had to leave him be. The upsurge of self-reproach consumed me; I felt suffocated by my own actions, so viciously hauled back into the reality of this day. A vow is forever. From here on out, nothing in the world could erase the choice he had made.

  He had his absolution, now who would give me mine?

  I sank to my knees and dissolved into tears as I reached the end of the steps that would lead me back to the Square. I was determined to empty my heart out, leave my love for him in this sacred place, but instead here I was, filled with distress at the thought of a life without him. I covered my face in my hands and sobbed, aware of the fact that I must have looked liked a jilted bride on the morning of her wedding. People came and went, the sound of their footsteps, their conversations, their silent wonderings floating all around me.

  “Anna?” said a voice directly in front of me. I peeked out through my fingers, embarrassed at having been recognized. “Anna?” he said again as he settled down in front of me and gently pulled my hands away from my face. There he was, looking so composed, his voice soothing, his touch healing.

  We faced each other as we knelt on stone, as if in prayer, in worship, in atonement.

  “Jude?” I had to blink once. Twice. Three times. It was him, or maybe not? He wasn’t dressed in priestly robes; he wasn’t even dressed in black. He looked like a normal human being, with the trademark New York Yank
ees baseball cap, a white t-shirt and jeans, and a backpack slung across his shoulders. Another trick of fate, I thought. What else? What else could it be?

  “How did you find me?” I marveled at the power of happenstance. I began to realize that there was really no such thing as coincidence.

  “I will always find you.” He beamed despite the clouded look in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Anna. I’m so sorry for your loss. I prayed so hard. I wanted God to take me in his place. I just wanted you to be happy. I know how much you loved him.”

  His teardrops began to fall softly like the rain.

  I should dance in them, I thought. I could dance in his tears and wash all my wounds away.

  It was then or never. I had to tell him everything, tell him how much I loved him before he walked away forever. I lowered myself to the ground in supplication until my head was at his feet.

  “Please forgive me. I have loved you all these years. I pushed you away, I let my bitterness and pride get in the way. You’re the price that I paid and I will always regret it!” I cried.

  “Oh, Anna. No, no.” He pulled my face up and held my chin close, our tears intermingled, our words obscured in sorrow. “Listen to me. You’d said that our love was born out of death and loss. That’s not true. Our love is a gift from God himself, born out of courage and adversity. No love is more real than this.”

  The draining emotion and the weight of my stomach caused me to tip back and sit on my feet. My arms fell to my sides as I placed them on the floor to keep my balance. His eyes quickly settled upon my midsection. It was hard to miss; I was wearing a maternity dress after all.

  “Is that… are you… Did Dante know?” He stayed in place, afraid to touch something that wasn’t his.

  “I’m five months along,” I said as I wiped my eyes dry. “Dante knew. It made him so happy.”

  “Five months?” He paused for a few seconds. “December?” He closed his eyes and allowed a few tears to fall. And then he broke out in a jubilant smile. “That was morning sickness. In Thailand.”

  I nodded my head slowly. “Twins.” I began to cry again. These children were conceived out of love. Too bad that same love could never ever be.

  “Is it over? Are you a priest?” I asked, fully expecting him to say yes.

  “What?” He shook his head in bewilderment. “No, no! I was here to get a dispensation, and I received it yesterday. I went to the hotel to try to see you this morning, but you were busy taking care of Maggie. And then Peter called me to tell me that you were on your way here.”

  “You left the church. For me?”

  “It wasn’t a choice. It was always you.”

  He chose me? He chose me. I couldn’t begin to describe the feeling in my chest, the sudden rush of air into my lungs, the lightness of this moment; bit by bit, the remnants of my heart began to form like puzzle pieces coming together. It’s funny how things could change in an instant. One minute you’re broken, your world exploded around you, and the next minute you’re whole, your soul rescued, your torment erased.

  I smacked his arm as he lightly brushed my tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

  “Tell me that you wouldn’t have argued against it.”

  “I would have.” I smiled through the thickness of my tears.

  “Exactly,” he said with a chuckle. “I never went back, Blue. I told you I’d wait. I promised you that I would. From the day that I saw you again at the church, I knew I wasn’t going back.” He brought his lips to mine and kissed me. It was the kiss on that one dark night six years ago, the kiss in the hut over the ocean, the kiss in the rain. It was the kiss that paled all the others, the kiss of beginnings, not endings.

  “Why here, Blue? Why did you come here to watch me leave you?”

  “I wanted to tell you that I understand everything now. You were right all along, why this all happened. And that I was sorry I didn’t believe you,” I said, my hands held tightly together in repentance.

  “Here,” he said as he reached into his pocket to pull out the familiar teal colored pouch that had meant so much to me. “I believe this belongs to you.” I turned sideways to give him access to the back of my neck. The seahorse of forever was back where it belonged.

  With me.

  “Tell me what this means. Tell me where we go from here,” I pleaded.

  There is sacredness in tears, someone once said. What I learned that day was that without pain there could be no deliverance; without sin, no salvation. That in this life, it is only through sadness that one could truly experience joy. And although you are shaped by experience, you are ultimately defined by your destiny. Jude was my gift from God. If we paid enough attention, we’d find tiny little gifts imbedded in every single drop of misfortune.

  “It means that when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll find you right next to me,” he said confidently and without a care in the world.

  “It means that our children will know a great love between their parents,” I added.

  “It means that Mikey will have a family again, and the rain will bring us song after song,” he went on.

  “And it means that you are mine in this life.” I smiled triumphantly.

  He wrapped his arms around me from behind, pulling me tight into his embrace and leaning his chin on my shoulder.

  “I love you, Anna Dillon. Always have and always will. A love like this could never be wrong.”

  “I love you too, Jude. No more running, I promise.”

  We gazed up at the sky to find the sun peeking through the clouds and the spectrum of colors reflected by a rainbow.

  “Huh. Twins,” he said. “Max will flip out! He loves babies, he practically lives with Katie because of that.”

  Gradually, he leaned himself back and leapt to his feet before pulling me up with both hands. It was as if he knew that I’d been having balance issues as of late.

  “Let’s go home, Anna,” he whispered in my ear as he held me close, one arm around my waist and the other with the palm of his hand flat against my stomach.

  “Yes, let’s,” I said.

  And as we blended in with all the others, with the thousands of believers who were here to affirm their faith in the land of the great empire and in the city where past and present converged in harmony, I had a thought. A thought that filled me with certainty that the path that God planned for me had just been set in motion.

  “He has our lanterns!” I squeaked happily as we walked hand in hand, rushing back to make it to Maggie’s reception.

  “Who? Who has our lanterns?” He leaned over to kiss me on the cheek.

  “Dante! He told me!”

  For a fleeting moment, I believed that I saw Dante’s eyes reflected in his. “I have no doubt that he has them. No doubt at all.”

  We were but two tiny stars in the galaxy, Jude and I.

  That was all we were.

  Two stars among many, in the infinite constellation of the universe.

  “MOMMY, CAN I sit outside with you while you talk to Uncle Dante?” Her golden hair blows freely in the wind as I fire up the pit on the fourth anniversary of his leaving. I can’t wait to meet him under the moon again tonight.

  “Of course you can, Danielle, but I don’t really talk to him much. I just visit with him while he’s up in the stars watching over us,” I say as she makes herself comfortable with her head on my lap.

  “I’m sleepy, Mommy, but I want to stay while you visit with him too.” She stretches her little mouth into a big, loud yawn.

  “Okay. Close your eyes so that you can see him in your dreams,” I say, leaning down to give her a kiss before spreading the blanket on top of her. A heavy raindrop plunks itself down on her head, rolls down her forehead and settles in her eye. She lets out a grunt and squeezes her eye shut.

  “I hate the rain, Mommy. It’s cold and icky.”

  I laugh as I run a finger across her cheek. “Oh, honey. Some of life’s best moments happen in the rain. Besides, don’t you remember wha
t happens after every rain?”

  “Rainbows!” she squeals with delight, clapping her hands together.

  Rainbows.

  I sit in silence for a few minutes and watch the pieces of wood begin to catch fire. The view from our deck reminds me of the days of our youth, the dances in front of the bonfires and the warm nights on the beaches of Thailand. It isn’t difficult to imagine, since our home in the Outer Banks brings us the best of the sand and the sea. We live in a three-story house overlooking the ocean in a seaside resort town filled with visitors and tourists and overcrowded roads. Our days are filled with the laughter of two little girls, busy schedules, hospital shifts, and fried oysters from Spanky’s. Our nights are filled with stories and songs, love and pleasure, happiness and peace. My private practice allows me the flexibility to be with the girls more often, and Jude’s work as a youth counselor and permanent deacon at our parish church allows him the luxury of being home in time for dinner with his girls. We live a simple life. After all, working three days a week as a part-time physician doesn’t really equate to a successful career in the medical profession. I didn’t discover a cure for cancer and Jude didn’t change the world. But what we found was so much more. We found ourselves, and together we are writing the love story of a lifetime.

  The glow of the fire calls me to begin this year’s letter. I have everything that I need next to me. His glasses, his watch, and his blanket were the only things that I saved when we cleaned out his apartment before moving away.

  Hi, Tey. Happy Anniversary!

  I miss you. I know you’ve always said that I was a little bit unusual. Do you suppose that’s why everything seems to have the opposite effect on me? Instead of missing you less, I miss you more each year. Can you see Dani on my lap? Look how much she’s grown! She seems to be the one more like me. Teah not only looks more and more like Jude, she’s also got his personality; while Dani is loud and giggly, Teah is quiet and introspective.

 

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