Loving Your Lies

by Shelly, Piper

  Gentle hands wrapped around my shoulders. “You can wake her. She’ll hear you,” Julian said into my ear.

  Dragging a deep breath, I crossed to her bed and settled down. My first touch of her arm coaxed out her moan.

  My mother rolled to her back, her lids slowly opening. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to strangle the tears burning to the surface. There was nothing good about this morning. My mum was going to leave me. Again. Without a word, I collapsed beside her and let the pain come out in hard sobs.

  She scooted backward to lean on the headboard, dragging me with her. Then she hugged me so tightly I could hardly believe she’d have the strength for it. “Don’t cry, my baby. Everything will be good—you’ll see. I’ve lived my life and found a happy ending with you. I’m not grieving.”

  She sounded bright and sober-minded. Neither fear nor sorrow rang in her words. “And I don’t want you to be sad either. You’re young and have a good life to live. Promise me you’ll stay with Marie and Albert. They can be the parents you always wished for.”

  “I never wished for anything but for you to come back. How can I not be sad when He’s going to take you away from me?” The words ripped from my clamped chest as if they tore my throat bloody. This time not even Julian’s loving hand on my neck could soothe me.

  “Mon Dieu, what happened?” My aunt whirled into the room as though she’d expected the worst, her face horror-stricken. At the sight of my mother sitting upright Marie’s gaze lit up. She presses a hand to her chest, breathing a sigh of relief. “Dieu merci! You are awake. I was so worried this morning when you kept sleeping though I shook you.”

  She lowered next to me on the mattress and skimmed her fingers through my hair. “But why are you crying, chérie?”

  The bile rushing up my throat kept me from answering. Marie turned her head toward Julian when he planted his hand on her shoulder and urged her with a flick of his head to follow him outside. “Can I have a word with you?”

  Confusion creased her forehead. “Bien súr.” Her movements when she rose from my mother’s bed were reluctant, as if she already sensed Julian had bad news.

  As the door clicked closed, I sank deeper into my mum’s embrace.

  It didn’t take Julian long to return with a sobbing Marie in tow. One look between the sisters seemed enough to confirm what Julian must have told her. My aunt knelt next to the bed and grabbed my mother’s hand. She kissed her palm and squeezed it. “You should have told me sooner.”

  I caught my mother’s questioning glance moving to Julian. He cleared his throat. “I told her what the doctor said on Saturday. That you might not recover from the cold.”

  Wondering whether the doctor had really said this, or if Julian only made this up to cover the truth, I rose from the bed and crossed to him on slow steps. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pressed me tenderly against him.

  “It would be unfair to your aunt not to give her a chance to say goodbye to her sister,” he whispered. “She doesn’t have to know everything, just this much.”

  I agreed silently. His calming scent comforted me.

  While Marie and also her husband talked to my mum, encouraging her that everything was going to be fine and the doctor must have been mistaken, Julian ushered me into the kitchen to have breakfast. But apart from a few sips of tea, nothing would go down. My stomach churned.

  With the warm cups in our hands, we just stared at each other across the table. Neither said a word. It was a hard fight against the tears wanting to spill over. But I remained strong. And so did Julian. His blank face revealed nothing, but his heavy sighs cut the silence. He rubbed his hands over his face, then reached for my hand and brought it to his lips. Warm breaths coming through his nose caressed my fingers.

  “Will you remember me?” I said with a hardly audible whisper.

  Julian’s eyes switched to mine, but instead of answering, he furrowed his brows in a puzzled way.

  I forced a hard swallow before I could speak again. “You said you will make me forget everything about you. So I wondered if you would remember me once you’ve returned to Heaven.”

  Julian coughed. His throat must have hurt him as much as mine did. “Of course, I will remember you. I’ll treasure our moments together. Forever.”

  Each breath I took filled my chest with rocks. They tormented me. A small part of me anticipated the time when I would forget, for the pain wouldn’t be so excruciating anymore. But it was easy to silence and bury that part under more heavy stones.

  Marie came in a few minutes later. Her eyes glistening and her nose red. “Henri just called and said one of the modules of the sprinkler broke. Water is flooding the vines. I will go with Albert to help them fix it. It won’t take long.” She waited for us to nod then scurried to the door with her gaze focused on the floor. In the threshold, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. “If anything happens, if your mother’s condition gets worse, call me in immediately.”

  We both nodded again. Then we returned to my mother’s room.

  “Is there anything I can get you?” I asked. A wet cloth lay on the nightstand, and I patted her burning forehead with it.

  “No, dear. Just stay with me while I rest for a moment.” Her eyes had already closed, so I remained silent and kept caressing her hot face.

  Julian knelt on the floor, his chin supported on his bent arm that rested on my lap. There was no way to say whether losing him or my mother hurt more. But the aching coupled was too much to bear for one person. I yearned to close my eyes like my mother and escape the pain.

  After half an hour during which my legs went numb and my back started to ache, Julian stood and urged me to the wide lounging chair in front of the window. He slumped down first, pulled me onto his lap, and cradled me against him.

  “You know, as an angel,” he said softly with the weight of honesty in his voice. “I’ve seen many beautiful things and experienced thousands of wonders. But the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen was you. And with you I’ve had the best moments of my life.”

  Knowing he spoke of sixty-odd thousand years, his words filled me with warmth. “You certainly are the best thing in my life, too.”

  His breathing stopped, his body tensed. Almost as if he expected something important to happen.

  “What?” I demanded.

  He relaxed—on the surface. But his hollow eyes and his tight grip on my hand told me he struggled to hide deep disappointment. He buried his face in my hair. “Nothing, love. It’s nothing.”

  With my cheek nestled against his chest, minutes ticked by like seconds. The rhythmical skimming of his fingers on my neck lulled me to a state of half sleep. The warm scent of wild wind was all I perceived while his chest rose and fell steadily. Curled up, with my feet on the chair, it was a comfortable enough position for me to fall asleep. And I would have, if my mother hadn’t woken with a gurgling cough.

  Before I knew what had happened, I sprang to her side and grabbed her hand. “Mum, I’m here.” The worry I tried to hide from her unfortunately echoed clearly in my voice.

  The strong squeeze of her hand gave me some confidence. “I need a sip of water. Can you get me a fresh glass?”

  Her lips were dry like sandpaper, and it didn’t help that she licked them with a tongue just as parched. I made it to the kitchen and back in less than ten seconds, although I left a water trail after me. My hand placed behind my mother’s head, I helped her drink in slow sips.

  When she’d had enough, she opened her arms for me. Happily, I dived into her embrace.

  “Thank you so much, little baby.”

  Fear gripped me in a headlock when I realized she wasn’t speaking about me getting her a drink. My head on her shoulder, she asked me to summon my aunt.

  Fear changed to panic. I shot up. “Why? Are you feeling worse?”

  “No, dear.” She gave me a strong and confident smile. “I forgot to tell her where my life insur
ance is, and now would be a good moment to talk to her. I’m feeling just fine.”

  Did she really, or was this Julian’s angel powers giving her strength? Her hand on my cheek felt warmer than before. With the color returning to her cheeks, she looked a whole lot better.

  “I would send Julian, but I’m afraid I need his help in here. So could you get Marie for me?”

  To my questioning glance, Julian replied with a nod and walked toward me. I stood, uncertain if I really should leave my mother alone.

  Strands of my hair ran through his fingers. He pulled my head against his chest and planted a gentle kiss to my brow. “It’s all good,” he promised.

  So I slipped into my boots, strode out, and hurried toward the vineyard. A few hundred feet ahead, I spotted Marie and Albert, both bent over the small iron bar that stuck out from the ground. They were too far to shout, so I scurried on, my thoughts lingering in my mother’s room.

  What would they talk about now that I was outside? Mum didn’t seem scared at all today, although we both felt it was going to be over soon. Maybe she was asking Julian about life on the other side. Getting prepared.

  I stopped dead, and with my feet my heart stopped, too. The world spun around me in an endless carousel. Eerie underwater noises bubbled in my ears.

  Oh, how could I be so ignorant? My mum wanted me out of the room so I wouldn’t have to watch what was going to happen. She could have sent Julian, but she needed him with her. To escort her to the other side.

  God, no!

  My eyes wide and mouth open, I must have looked like I was run over by a bus when Marie turned toward me. And that was exactly how I felt.

  “Jona? Is your mother feeling worse?” Marie blurted then winced.

  But I had no time to reply. I whirled around, needing to get back inside. Invisible cords slowed my movements. The first few steps seemed to take me an endless time while my breaths erupted on painful spasms.

  “Julian, don’t!” I croaked, although I wasn’t sure if I even said it out loud. But in my mind I continued yelling his name over and over. He must hear me. Please, he had to. God couldn’t take my mother today. Not now, when I wasn’t with her. When I hadn’t said goodbye.

  “Jona! What is it?” Shouts behind me couldn’t make me wait for my aunt.

  The house suddenly appeared like a mile away. It would take me hours to get there.

  And then I broke into a run. My loose boots pounded on the path, kicking pebbles to all sides. Marie’s cry grew fainter.

  My heart pounded a frantic beat in my ears when I finally reached the house. It was a long way through the hallway to my mother’s room. The door stood ajar, and I slammed against it.

  “Don’t! Please, don’t!” I choked. My mind swarmed with panic. I gasped for air, stumbling farther into the room.

  Caught by strong hands, I glanced up at Julian. I sucked in a breath at his sight. His eyes were the only thing I recognized about him at this time. His casual clothes gone, he was completely dressed in white light, a long cloak swaying around his legs. The pair of wings sprouting from his shoulder blades hovered two feet above the ground, spreading so wide they almost brushed opposite walls.

  The angel took me into his arms and leaned his forehead against mine. His wings enclosed our embrace into a ball of white light.

  My nose dripped. The first rush of tears burned like hellfire. Salty streams ran over my lips. “Please wait!” My voice hoarse and shaky, I clutched the front of his cloak as I begged. To stop him from taking my mother was all I could think of. “Let her stay with me. Let her live. I don’t want to lose both of you. Give me a few more hours. A few more days. Don’t leave me, Julian!”

  A trail of vapor traced the movement of his hands as he reached up to brush back my hair. “It’s impossible.” His tone was soft, yet it left no room for negotiations. “Look at her. She’s ready. It’s time.”

  His wings lowered to grant me a glance at my mother, her eyes wide and happy. She gazed in our direction, but she only focused on Julian. The angel in white light.

  A part of my heart splintered and remained with Julian when I broke free from his hold and inched toward my mother.

  I was right beside her as she finally tilted her head toward me and smiled. “Jona, you came back?” She sounded far away and surprised.

  “Yes, Mum. I came to stop you.”

  The warmth of her hand seeped into my palm. “To stop me? From what?”

  “From leaving.” I sobbed, wiping my nose with the back of my free hand.

  “Why would you do that?” Her innocent, confused gaze matched her childlike tone and had me wondering if she was the mental one or I.

  “Can’t you see the beautiful place over there?” she crooned. “They are calling me. It’s an invitation. I would be a fool not to go.”

  “She’s already glimpsing Heaven.” A shiver skittered along my arms at Julian’s announcement behind me. “It’s time to let go.”

  But I wasn’t ready. Unable to make myself speak, I cradled my mother’s defenseless body against my chest. Lungs tight, I shook with fear.

  Her gaze cleared, warmed even. “Let me go, dear child.”

  “No. No! Never!” Over the crook of my arm wrapped around my mother’s shoulders, I glowered at Julian who was coming closer. “You won’t take her anywhere!”

  One silver tear glistened in his eye, shining with the light of a star. He blinked, and it was gone. “I wish I didn’t have to, but it’s not up to me.”

  Half of the room glowed with his presence as he sank to my side. He pressed his palm to my brow. His touch dragged a storm of memories out of my mind. Each of them flashed before me then vaporized into a void.

  I fought against the pull, jerked my head from side to side. I screamed at him. “Please, Julian! Don’t do this. Leave me this one precious thing!”

  But just like my heart, my mind was left empty. And in the next instant, the spell was over. I slouched alone in the room, holding my dead mother.

  29

  DELUSIONS

  THE BIRDS CHIRPED an unearthly happy song in the crown of the maple tree next to the patio. Between the new green leaves, the sun struggled to glint through. It played a befuddling game of light and shadow on my closed eyes. A fresh peachy smell emanated from the cushion of the deck-chair. That the patio furniture was out of winter storage and Marie laundered the cushions gave further proof of the spring winning over the cold winter months.

  With the skirt of the dress tugged over my bent legs, I hugged my knees, pressing my cheek on them. Yellow. Marie had smiled and said the color would be good for my depression when she had seen me coming downstairs that Sunday morning.

  But I didn’t see how it changed anything. I could as well have worn my usual black cloths that went so well with my mental state.

  After my mother’s death, the world had not been the same vivid place for me. Like a vortex, sadness had drawn me under with no intention of setting me free. Her funeral seemed to have closed a certain chapter in my life. A very painful one, with many twists and an unexpected turn at the end. But I couldn’t find the will and strength to start a new one.

  Quinn had come to attend the sad ceremony. He’d finished reading a passage from the bible for me when I had choked on the words in the church. He was a really good friend. I was glad for his understanding during those first hardest weeks.

  After a long conversation with Aunt Marie and Uncle Albert, he’d offered to take me with him back to England when all the formality around the burial was settled. Albert even promised that he and Marie would pay the rent of a flat and a possible tuition should I choose to study at the London University.

  But I’d declined their generous offer.

  Under tears, I’d begged them instead to let me stay in their house. How else would I’ve been able to bring my mother fresh lilies and roses to her grave every few days?

  There was no discussion necessary, no further pleading. Marie had folded me into her loving ar
ms and welcomed me as the member of their family I had been in their hearts from the very day of my arrival.

  So I stayed.

  From the window in my room, I’d watched the summer cease to a colorful fall, and snow cover the vineyards with a thick white blanket. Permanently red from crying too much, my nose burned at the slightest touch. And when my eyes finally dried and not a single tear would come anymore, my mind had seemed to shut down, too.

  Once, Marie had tried to talk me into seeing a psychotherapist. You are walking around the house like a zombie. But I wouldn’t go see the shrink. Not for the grief inside me. And neither when the delusions set in.

  It had started with dreams only. Dreams of a face I couldn’t get a clear view of. Night after night, I saw the same shining blue eyes, and each morning when I woke, I yearned to find them, searching the crowded market like a lost child each time we went to town.

  Over the weeks, the fine features of a boyish face formed around the eyes and became clearer. But I couldn’t recall the face in my memories. So why would I keep dreaming of a man I didn’t know?

  Unfortunately, my artistic skills were non-existent, or else I would have captured that face in a drawing. In fact, I had tried, but what came out was more like a cartoon Garfield than the fine lines of a gorgeous man. Not someone that Marie or Albert could help me identify when I had shown them the scrawl.

  Thinking of their perplexed gazes as they doubtlessly questioned my sanity, I winced and shifted in the deck-chair. Marie came over with a glass of lemonade and placed the drink on the table.

  “Here, chérie,” she said to me in French. “If you don’t want to eat breakfast again, then you should at least drink some juice.”

  During the last half of a year I’d made good speed in learning the language. And how would I not, when my aunt and uncle refused to talk to me in English. They’d decided the best way for me to learn was to hear French frequently, and more often than just once a week in that course they had signed me up for.