by Anna Katmore
Julian pulled my hand into his lap and began to play with my fingers. “This is your moment. What’s up, Jona?”
I heaved a deep breath. “What does it take to trade? My life for my mother’s.”
His skimming of my palm ceased, and his head snapped up to meet my gaze. “That’s impossible. And you shouldn’t even think about it.” The severity in his tone made me cringe. “Life is the greatest gift in the world. You should not be trifling with it.”
“It is my life, and I can do with it what I want.” I hardly found the strength to hold his glare. “I don’t have a reason to live with both of you gone. What kind of justice is that? I find my mother after half a lifetime without her, and in the next moment I have to let go of her again.” I paused. “And you.”
“Accept what she did for you. From this point on, you can start your life anew. Marie and Albert will be more than happy to give you a good home.” He let go of my hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “As for me, I should have listened to your mother when she warned me. She told me I’d cause you too much pain. But I was too selfish to see it. I thought what you needed was someone to show you what love can do. I refused to think of the consequences, didn’t see the pain I was going to put the both of us through.”
The pain he spoke about was tangible. The fear of loss, the longing, it all reflected in his face. It was impossible to even think of surviving one day without him. Or my mother.
“Can’t you call on one of those healers you mentioned? Someone must be able to help her. Give us more time. Just a little. And if she stays, you can, too, right?”
He shook his head. “No healer can help her now. She knows that. And you need to accept it.”
Sitting cross-legged, I braced my elbows on my knees and supported my aching head. “You know I heard you talking to her last night. You said there was a way.” A few minutes ago I had believed taking my mother’s place in death was the only way to be with Julian. Now a new flicker of hope kindled in me. “Tell me about it.”
Julian didn’t confirm, nor did he deny there was a possibility. He just said, “I cannot.”
“Then what does it take to find out?” I demanded, loud enough to make him wince. “Do I have to randomly guess ? Is there a trial of courage required? You said something about sky diving.” I jumped to my feet, standing firmly in the middle of the balcony, and pressed my hands to my hips. “If that’s it, come on. Fetch your wings, and I’ll prove I’m ready to sky dive with you.”
He stood, reached around my waist through my bent arms, and pulled me closer. “You’re a brave one, aren’t you?” His lips brushed my hair as he spoke, then he pressed them tenderly against my temple. “This is one of the many reasons why I love you.”
This was the third time he’d said it, and I longed to surrender to the words. But an immediate rush of white-hot anger flooded me, propelled me out of his arms. “How can you speak of love, when you won’t move a finger to stop things from happening? If you really meant it, you wouldn’t sit and watch my mother decay.”
Not giving him a chance to hold me again, I whirled past him and dashed through my room and downstairs. The bolt clicked inside the lock of my mother’s room as I turned the key, even though I wasn’t sure if that could keep an angel out.
My mother didn’t wake at my noisy entrance, so I perched next to her on the mattress and caressed her burning skin. I watched over her steady breathing for what seemed like hours. And in that time, I made a plan.
If God decided to take both of them, he would have to deal with one more.
Mom woke up at the same time my aunt and uncle returned from the field. Delighted to see me in her room, she immediately pulled me into an embrace. It felt so very unfamiliar to be held by Charlene, but at the same time unspeakably pleasant. I breathed in the cherry blossom scent of her body lotion, the one she hadn’t stopped wearing since the days she’d tucked me in as a child. The memory of loving her flooded me in a warm rush of comfort.
We didn’t talk much, but I helped her get to the kitchen. Julian sat at the table with his chin cupped in his hand. I cast him a long glance, letting him know that I was no longer mad at him.
Marie and Albert greeted my mom and me with eyes so wide they threatened to pop out, gaping at us with open mouths.
I waved at both of them then caught a glimpse of the box with the dirty bottles. “Sorry, I didn’t finish cleaning those.” I grimaced. “And on that note, I’m also sorry for the broken bottles.”
“Oh, do not worry about it, chérie,” my aunt said. “I am so very happy you and your mother finally made peace. It was about time.”
I glanced at Julian, who seemed just as unhappy about it as I was. And for the same simple reason: We were going to lose each other soon.
“Oh, what is this? You took off the bandage?” My aunt interrupted my staring. “Is your hand fine again?”
In all the turmoil going on, I had completely forgotten to cover up Julian’s miraculous healing demonstration. My hands disappeared into my pockets. “Yeah. Well, it tingles a little, but the pain is actually gone.”
“That is good news. But still, you will not be going to work in the vinery this week. I want your hand to be healed completely before you handle dirty roots and fertilizer.”
I nodded, trying not to think of tomorrow. I had a plan to carry out.
That night, Julian and I stayed long in my mother’s room. I intended to savor every moment I had with the both of them, while Julian’s supportive embrace kept me calm enough to face the inevitable.
Shortly before midnight, he led me away from my sleeping mother. “It’s late. You should go upstairs and get some rest.”
Heavy lids pushed over my eyes. I forced them open and shook my head. I didn’t speak in order to suppress a yawn with a clenched jaw.
His fingers brushed my too-long bangs from my forehead. “She’s going to wake up again tomorrow. I promise.”
My lips trembled as I pressed a goodnight kiss to my mom’s cheek. Shoulders hunched, I followed Julian upstairs.
In the hallway at the top of the staircase, I pivoted to glance at his face one last time. The way he tilted his head had me wondering if he sensed I was brooding over something. But I didn’t give him time to question the matter. Instead, I cupped his face and, standing on my tiptoes, I pressed my lips against his.
His mouth opened, welcoming the kiss, while his arms encircled me. The aching in my chest almost broke me when I let go of him and hurried into my room.
The door clicked shut behind me, sounding like the signal of my intention. Slouching on my bed in the dark, I waited a quarter of an hour, reveling in the taste of Julian on my mouth. Then I rose and sneaked out into the empty hallway.
To carry out my plan, I needed a weapon. And I knew exactly where to find one.
ANGEL TEARS
ALBERT’S OFFICE WAS dark and silent. I didn’t dare switch on the light, but I pulled back the curtains Marie closed every night, and soft moonlight streamed through the window.
From the wall, I picked up one of the dueling guns. The right one. The one Albert had told me was still loaded. I wasn’t sure what this medieval weapon was loaded with. A bullet, lead shot, whatever. It should suffice to kill me if shot into my head.
Walking slowly around the desk to stand in front of the window, I wondered if I should have written a letter of farewell after all. One to Marie and Albert, who came so close to being like parents in the past couple weeks. And one to my mother to tell her I’d tried to take her place, but wasn’t allowed. A letter to Julian wouldn’t be necessary. He’d know why I did it. And he could tell me off for it once we were reunited after death. In Heaven.
I took a long, deep breath, steeling my nerves. Then I lifted the gun to my right temple.
“Jona, don’t!”
The shock of Julian’s voice behind me almost caused me to release the shot that instant. My already tense body now prickled with the addition of his presence.
/> I turned around. “Go away.”
Julian didn’t budge an inch.
I didn’t lower the gun, but raked the hammer back, determined to go through with it, whether he watched or not.
His hands were fisted at his sides, but he remained in the doorway. He probably feared what I’d do if he rushed me. “What are you trying to achieve with this?”
“If I can’t take my mom’s place, then I will go with the both of you.” My voice had an unnaturally calm note that surprised me here, at the edge of life and death.
“Please, put it away.” With lowered palms, he gestured for me to set the gun down.
“No.” I gave a desperate laugh. “No, you can’t leave me here all alone. You can’t just walk out of my life tonight or tomorrow and think I’ll take it just like that.” I snapped the fingers of my free hand on the last word. “You can’t! I won’t let you. I want to come with you. And if this is the only way, then it’s fine with me.” The mouth of the pistol had lowered while I spoke and now I pressed it back into place. “I’m not going to let go of you.”
“Jona, will you please put the gun down? This is not an option. Suicide never is.”
He didn’t understand. To me, this had nothing to do with suicide. Not in the usual way. I didn’t want to end a lousy life. If that had been my wish, I’d have done so a long time ago. This was about him. And about being with him. In the afterlife.
I love you, I thought so hard I hoped he could understand.
“If you kill yourself, Heaven will be denied to you. You’ll go to a different place, worse than anything you’ve ever known.” The fear in his face seemed real. “There’s no way for me to follow. Now put it down, in Heaven’s name. Please!”
I hesitated. Suddenly, I felt completely insecure. What if he was right? What if I got this wrong, and he wouldn’t be there, at the other side? And then a much worse thought haunted me: What if he didn’t want to have me on the other side at all? He seemed fine with the way things were turning out. He wasn’t fighting it, like I was. As an angel, he must’ve had means, ways to fix this. But he was just waiting patiently until all was over. Until he could return to his sunshiny place with no thought of me, or how much he’d hurt me the day he left.
The day he would take my mother with him instead of me.
I squeezed my eyes shut for a second. My hand slowly sagged down, and I shook my head in utter despair.
Julian must have thought he’d broken through to me, talked me down. He started forward, but at his first movement, I raised both my hands with the gun clasped between them. This time I pointed it right at the center of his chest.
“Fine,” I whispered. “If you don’t want to take me with you, then you won’t take my mom either. Go to hell, Julian.”
For the count of a heartbeat, Julian seemed more hurt by my words than the prospect of being hit by a bullet. But he gathered himself quickly. “You can shoot me if you want. It won’t help you one bit. And after today, you should have realized a bullet would never be fast enough to hit me.”
He took a step forward, a bit uncertain it seemed. He didn’t yet trust that I wouldn’t shoot after all. And a good thing he didn’t. Because I had every intention to stop him from reaching me.
“Stay where you are.” My finger trembled on the trigger.
But I didn’t shoot at his next step. Or the next.
As he skirted the desk, our gazes locked at all times, I tracked his every step with the gun’s mouth. The final blow never came.
We stood face to face for the length of a breath. Then he slowly reached for the weapon. “Give it to me.”
I had run out of options. Realizing I couldn’t shoot either him or myself, there was only one possible way to get where I wanted: to take one step forward and proceed into his arms.
Eventually, I surrendered and let go of the gun. Julian placed it on the desk, never taking his eyes off me. He closed the remaining distance between us with one last step and took me in his arms. I shoved my hands up his chest and locked them around the back of his neck in a clinging embrace, burying my face in his shoulder.
Julian rested his chin on the top of my head and hugged me tighter.
“Love you,” he whispered, but I couldn’t tell if I’d really heard it, or if the sound of it only played in my mind.
I wished I could tell him the same, just once, so he’d know before he disappeared forever. But sobs rocked me in his arms, and I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Never before had I felt so helpless.
The darkness in Julian’s room matched the grief inside me. My cheek against his chest, the tear-soaked cotton of his shirt stuck to my skin. Aftermath chills of what had happened in my uncle’s study raced through my body. But warmth emanating from the angel I embraced soothed the nerves that were on the edge of breaking.
I closed my eyes, trying to find some peace before I paid my mother another visit. Maybe the last one.
At Julian’s stir underneath me, I jerked upward, wide awake. “Mom?” I glanced around the room. Daylight had swapped the darkness in the room already.
Julian brushed tender fingers over my forehead and cheek. He pressed a kiss to my brow. Looking at his calm and beautiful face helped me catch my breath. “Everything’s all right. Your aunt is just a little worried because your mother’s still asleep. I can sense her fear. I better go down and let Charlene wake up.”
The lump in my throat eased with a swallow. I sat on my legs. “Okay, I’ll just pop to the bathroom and then come down with you.”
His lips pressed together and his brows pulled to a frown, giving me the impression he was about to contradict.
“Don’t you dare leave me behind!” I held his gaze for the length of a breath, eyes narrowed.
“I better not let you out of my sight, anyway. Who can say what reckless idea you’ll come up with next?” A sense of honesty shadowed his taunting.
He waited while I used the bathroom. Cold water revived my tired eyes. My hand back in his, we headed downstairs. Marie’s anxious whisper to Albert in the hallway drifted to us.
“Something wrong?” Julian said as we approached them. His perfectly innocent tone gave me more chills.
“It is Charlene. She did not wake up this morning when I walked into her room to help her get dressed. She looks like she is asleep, but what if she fell into a coma?” My aunt sounded close to cracking as she clasped her hands together. Fear flashed clearly in her eyes. “I was just saying to Albert that we better call an ambulance.”
Julian stepped toward her and touched his hand to her forearm. “Jona and I kept her awake long last night. She’s probably just exhausted. Let her rest for a few more minutes. I’m sure she’s fine.”
I was already heading into my mother’s room, but even with my back to him, I felt the lie in his words. She wasn’t going to be fine. Today very well might be her last. Maybe someone should tell Marie. She would want to say her goodbyes, too.
But how to break the news? Sorry Marie, but you know Julian—the angel—was taking care of my mother while I was still furious with her. Now that everything is fine between us, God is going to collect her soul. Not quite the words someone wanted to hear when they were expecting “Good morning, did you sleep well?”
My mom lay on her side, facing the door when I entered. Although her eyes remained motionless behind closed lids, her breathing seemed steady enough for someone sleeping. Not dead. Yet a hint of uncertainty stopped me in the middle of the room. Regarding her for a long moment, the aching in my chest welled, and my breathing hitched to staccato sighs.
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 to her arm coaxed out a 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 of my eye
s. There was nothing good about this morning. My mom 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 had 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 expected the worst, her face horror-stricken. At the sight of my mother sitting upright Marie’s gaze lit up. She pressed 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. “Yes, of course.” 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 mom’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.”