by J. L. Brooks
Satisfied that I was stable, he questioned my plans and offered his own opinion. “I think you should finish medical school, Stella. I can guarantee you that within six months it would be as if you never left, and you have less than two years before you could seek a residency. Depending on your specialty, I could probably set something up here.”
I smiled gratefully and appreciated the offer. Going back to school was no longer on my radar, and I wasn’t sure if I could handle the pressure required in the final stretches of obtaining my PhD. After being released, I wished him well and told him I would stay in touch.
“Just think about it, Stella. You don’t have to decide now, but you are too damn bright to just let it go to waste.”
I took his words to heart, but knew my compass was set to return to the stage. All it took was a brief phone call to my record label, and a new manager was being sought. I asked that everything be kept hush, and the PR agency was crafting a tale to work it to my advantage. Later that afternoon, I ventured into the attic to go through the belongings my mother had brought with her. Stashed at the bottom of a rubber tote, was my purse from the day of the accident. I brought it down, emptied the contents on my bed, and sifted through the assorted items. Expensive cosmetics, and several hundred dollars were tucked into the pockets, along with my tablet. At the bottom of the pile was a metal case with a few cigarettes and a lighter, as well as a small folded piece of paper.
Surprised that the purse was never searched, I carried the packet into the bathroom and lifted the seat. My hands trembled while I unfolded the corners and listened to the small granules scratch the paper. Inside was two grams of cocaine, pressed hard from sitting so long in the humid space. I flipped it over and dumped it into the bowl, then flushed it hurriedly and fell to the ground in tears. If I went back, that was something that couldn’t go with me. It was a miracle my brain had not been more damaged between that and the accident.
I could not deny my prayer was answered. I made it through the dark. Money was irrelevant when it came to my survival. I just needed that one small light to guide me. The sullen mood was contributed to once again with Raina’s passing, allowing me to get lost in my thoughts. I clung to Julian, knowing our time was growing short. The morning of the funeral, he dressed in a dark grey suit and plucked a few roses from the garden. My mother drove us to the church, and we found our way to a pew.
I forced myself to stay in the present and comfort Julian. His eyes were always far away, sharing in the same struggle of what tomorrow would bring. We listened quietly, hand in hand, as those who Raina loved exalted her life. Julian was the last to speak, and walked reluctantly to the podium. He had made bullet points on an index card so he would remember everything he wanted to say, and through the tears, I did my best to smile with encouragement. Pastor Williams stood nearby, and hugged him before concluding with a brief sermon.
“Every trial is a tool used to strengthen our faith. The book of James tells us to be joyful when faced with various trials, for it is a working of your faith. We are to allow it to happen, in order for our patience to be made perfect, so we can be complete and lack in nothing. Raina Moreau found joy amid her tribulations. As the cancer was ravaging her body, her spirit only grew stronger. She knew not to focus on that which she could not control, but spent every day making sure it counted. I can remember when she started her first round of chemotherapy and I came by to pray with her and see if I could offer any assistance. I ended up leaving with a box of pastries and a renewed spirit. There was nothing I could give her, other than what she desired most, and that was the understanding our sole purpose on life was to love one another . . . and for people to try her delicious croissants.”
The church began to laugh, remembering their own encounters of her insistence that no one left her presence hungry. Although I felt special in the attention and wisdom she gave, I knew it was simply how she was. It was impossible for her not to love, and she had passed on that trait to Julian.
Continuing the sermon, he took a note from Raina’s book and left us provoked with a challenge. “As you leave here today, I ask that you honor Raina by emulating the life she lived. Think of what is best for others, and in turn, God will provide for you. It isn’t always comfortable, because we are often selfish in our desires. But we are not meant to be self-serving. We are meant to live a life of sacrifice and love. Raina understood that more than anyone and every day she humbly lived out the word of God. Matthew 5:15 tells us, “You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lamp stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven.”
She knew she was called to be a light unto the world. Each and every one of us in here today shares that same calling. Stop hiding your lamps. The world is dark enough as it is, and it is up to us to guide others. Go now in peace, and may the Lord be with you all.”
With the service ending, the organ started playing a sweet hymn and the congregation followed Julian to the door. An endless row of condolences poured over him as I waited in the sanctuary. Before the casket was closed, I slipped up onto the altar and removed a small candle from my pocket. I placed it gently in Raina’s hand, and fought the sobs in my chest from getting too loud. “It only takes one light to guide you. Thank you for being mine”
Hearing my mother call my name, I took a deep breath and kissed my fingers before placing it on Raina’s heart. Since I was the last one to leave the church, Julian was waiting on the steps. I pulled him into my arms, and held him until he let go. Raina’s wish was to be cremated and have her ashes released off the coast of Hatteras Island, so she could forever be with her husband in the deep. With two days to wait, we returned to the house and crawled into bed. Despite the exhaustion, I was afraid to sleep. Thankfully, when I closed my eyes, I was spared another night of dreaming.
When I awakened to a sun-drenched room, my clock said it was nearly noon, and Julian was already out of the bed. I walked into the kitchen, and my mother was seated at the table with her computer and a cup of tea. Peering above her glasses, she gave a slight smile and asked how I was doing.
“I’m still pretty tired. It’s been a rough few weeks.” I groaned while stretching deep, extending my arms up and off to the side.
“I think we are all a little down for the count right now, it’s to be expected. I’m glad we have some alone time. I wanted to talk to you. Have a seat, kiddo.”
Patting the chair next to her, she sounded upbeat, but I knew better than to think it was a good conversation. I went to the refrigerator and poured a glass of orange juice, then pulled the chair out and plopped down. She removed her glasses and set them off to the side, then closed her laptop. Leaning on her elbow, she gave another weak smile. With her eyes growing red, I could see the tears pooling.
“Mom, what is it? What’s going on?” I asked with concern.
She used the cloth napkin next to her, and dabbed her eyes while looking at the ceiling.
“I just have to ask. I know it’s only a matter of time, but when are you leaving?”
I reached out to pull her into a hug, and started to laugh. “Mom, I’m not going to disappear. I promise. When I do leave, you will know and we can Skype every day if that helps you feel better.”
Nodding her head, she whispered, “I’d like that.”
I rubbed her arms comfortingly, and asked her where this was coming from.
She took a cup of tea and shrugged her shoulders. “I went into the attic yesterday to store some of Raina’s things, and noticed the tote I had yours in was empty. I had just been up there, so I knew it was within the past week. I was just scared I would wake up one day and you would be gone. I don’t know if I could handle that, so I just needed to know.”
Upset at knowing she was still unsure of me, I wanted nothing more than to set her mind at ease.
“Mom, there’s nothing saying that you and dad cannot join me. Even if it’s just a few days at a time. There’s so much I want to show you. So many beautiful places I have seen that I know you guys would love. Let me do that, let me show you. Just because I have my memory back, doesn’t mean that you lost me. If nothing else, you have me completely now. I wasn’t sad all the time. There have been some pretty incredible moments, too. You are my mom, anywhere I am, you are welcome too.”
She smiled and I knew that was what she needed to hear, and over time, she would see it was true. Feeling at ease with things, she kissed my cheek and poured another cup of tea. As she pinched the sugar cubes out of the tin container, she started to ask about my plans for the day.
“Are you going with Julian? I’m sure he’d want you there with him, and honestly, I think you both need to get away. I sense there is some tension, but I don’t want to interfere. I know you need to work that out amongst yourselves.”
I took another drink and tried to decide if I was ready for food. I walked over to the fridge, cracked the door, and answered her while pilfering through the shelves. “Yes, I am going. I need to start packing, because I am sure he will be ready to leave as soon as possible. We are going to stay a few days on the island and decompress. I know we need to talk about us, and I have a feeling it won’t be what everyone wants.”
I picked out a cup of yogurt and some sliced fruit, set it on the table, and took my seat again.
“Stella, it’s not about everyone else. It’s about you, first and foremost. Do I want to see you with Julian? Absolutely. You are right, everyone does. But I also know that you both have lives you are eager to get back to, and those don’t necessarily fit together. Asking one another to sacrifice more when you have already given so much is not realistic. You don’t want move forward if you think it will be a decision you will regret. Perhaps, in time, that will be a road you will travel together, but don’t make a decision based off of someone else’s opinion. Give yourself some time. There’s no rush to figure it all out right now.”
I looked at my mother dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe she would actually understand what I was thinking and feeling.
She smiled brightly and lifted her finger under my jaw with a laugh. “I get you more than you realize, Stella. After all, you are my child. Even from an early age, you explored every possible option before deciding on what path you would take. It’s why you excelled. Once you had your mind set on something, neither hell nor high water could stop you from reaching your goals. It is also your downfall. But you know now life cannot be lived with blinders on. I want you to look around and explore all of your options before settling on one, because no matter what happens, I will always be proud to have you as my daughter.”
Feeling my own face flush, I shook my head and rubbed my eyes. “We really need to stop making each other cry.” I giggled while wiping tears away.
She reached over and tickled my ribs, causing me to howl. “Not all tears are bad. Even laughing can cause you to well up.”
I squirmed in my seat and kicked the table, crying out again with a mix of humor and pain. She continued to laugh and poked softly at my ribs.
“Stop it, please . . .” I begged through short breaths.
“Do you know how long’s it’s been since I have tickled you, young lady? I think I have the right to make up for lost time.”
Squeals of protest rang through the house as my mother pinned me down, refusing to stop her hysterical torture. Struggling to take in air, I didn’t fight as hard as I knew I could. Finally exhausted after a few minutes, she backed away slowly, anticipating I would do the same. Neither of us saw Julian kneeling in the doorway with an amused expression.
“Hey,” I said with a grin, then I flinched when my mother pretended to resume the attack. Together they roared with laughter at my scowl.
“Ha, ha, ha, very funny,” I sneered.
Julian reached his arms out and pulled me up. I felt a tick in my brain, and closed my eyes briefly as I reflected back to the dream. It was just a coincidence. Meeting his gaze, I saw his brows draw inward with concern. Although it was brief, the reaction did not go unnoticed.
“You okay?” he asked.
Giving a reassuring smile, I nodded my head. “Yeah, I’m good. Are you ready?”
Obviously not convinced, he scrunched his brow again and nodded back. “Whenever you are.”
~ Plotting the Course ~
Julian was quiet as we headed east toward Hatteras. A friend of the family had a summer cottage in the village of Rodanthe, and offered it to us for the weekend so we could scatter Raina’s ashes in the deep. In addition, he owned a boat that we could use so we wouldn’t have to rent one. Julian figured it would take about an hour to pick up it up from storage and be where we needed to be by sundown if everything went smoothly.
We pulled up to the small grey home with multiple decks wrapped around the back. It was built off the ground to avoid flooding during storms, and was surrounded by trees providing privacy from the adjacent homes. If not for our particular purpose, I imagined this would be a wonderful getaway. The beaches were pristine, and absent of the high rises so common in popular tourist spots. We quickly went about unloading the truck, before heading a short distance to retrieve the boat. The yard had been called earlier in the day, so they had it ready and waiting for us to launch. We traveled down Myrna Peters road, past the Liberty gas station, to the small public boat ramp. With the truck backed into the water, I started the boats engine and let it idle until he returned.
Even in the sound, the water was choppy and Julian was careful to monitor the depths as it changed based on the tides. Once out into the open water, he shifted the throttle forward and began to speed diagonally against the waves. I held the backpack containing Raina’s ashes to prevent it from bouncing around, and studied Julian’s face. I no longer took his distance as rejection, and kept myself from prying into his thoughts. I thought about the conversation with my mother over breakfast, and pushed back the guilt I felt over letting Raina down. She had such high hopes for me and Julian, but surely she understood our plight.
I closed my eyes and relished the sensation of the salty breeze rushing across my face. It felt like it had been forever since I felt this way. Being out in the ocean was so liberating, and a tranquil way of paying our last respects. Half an hour later, we reached the coordinates where Julian had said goodbye to his father, and now he was saying goodbye to Raina. Handing him the backpack, I asked if he wanted to say anything, or if perhaps I could. He shook his head and removed the small tin container, then peeled the label off the rim that sealed it.
His hands shook slightly as he twisted the lid loose, but did not remove it. He tucked the tin under one arm, and reached out his other for me to hold his hand. Together we climbed over the back and settled onto the small deck. I rubbed his shoulders softly as he opened the container and tilted it to the edge of the boat. The water glistened with streaks of gold against the black water, the small fragments sinking quickly from the surface. He gave the container a few shakes, then twisted the lid and tucked it into his lap.
My French was not very up to par, but I was able to decipher a few things he then said. He was happy she was with Romain and no longer suffering, then there was something about me, and finally, he loved her. I had never been a part of an intimate death, so I wasn’t sure what to do. Beyond the hospital and outside of my training, my personal reaction to it was strange and unfamiliar. I knew one day I would be doing the same thing, as an only child saying goodbye to my family. I couldn’t comfort him the way that I would want to be, so I trusted that he would guide me with what he needed.
We sat and watched the sun sink beneath the horizon line, and the sky turn dark shades of blue and grey. The wind blew a cool breeze across the water, and caused me to shiver slightly. I wouldn’t complain, so I just snuggled up closer to Julian for warmth. It wasn’t long before he felt ready enough to leave, and squeezed my hand to let
me know. He fired the engine, and we returned to the ramp with less urgency, then towed the boat to the house. Neither of us were very hungry, and opted to turn in early. While I found it somewhat odd that Julian turned to me sexually for comfort, I knew it was hard for him to verbalize his feelings.
It was in my arms he found relief of the burdens that he carried. I did not rebuke him for being too aggressive, or question his need to be held. A myriad of emotions surfaced and shifted with each caress, as Julian navigated his way through the night. In the morning, I would be forgiving of his methods of grief, and continue to assist in any ways I could.
As day began to greet us with a blinding light, I stumbled out of bed to draw the shades, but the top windows were bare, and allowed the rays to bathe the house in a soft yellow glow. Once awake, I was unable to fall asleep again, so I went downstairs to make a cup of coffee and sit on the beach. A short while later, Julian appeared, and took a seat with a mug of his own. He appeared rested, and listened to the waves crashing against the shore with me.
“I like it out here. Maybe this is where I will retire,” he said.
I smiled, reached my hand out for his, and began rubbing the palm. “If you do, I hope you know that every morning you will know where to find me.”
He tangled his fingers in mine, and they began a lazy dance of contentment. “And if I don’t, where will I find you then?” he asked.
I paused my fingers, and turned my head to meet his gaze. “I suppose that is something we need to decide, isn’t it?”
His lips pursed, and he was just as reluctant to admit that what we planned in our hearts wasn’t lining up with our minds.
Understanding he held the same fears as my mother, I hoped that by addressing him we could come to terms with what would happen next. I squeezed his fingers gently, and chose to start the dialogue that we had been avoiding. “Julian, I know you want to go back to New York. You have never confessed that you held any desire to stay in Mooresville. The only thing that made you consider it was me. But even you knew that the moment my memory came back, I would have that same yearning to return to the life I left behind. I know that you love me, and I am not going to disappear again. I know that I have a long road ahead of me. Not just because of the injury, but learning how to deal with everything that has happened. You might be the most qualified person to help me, but I have seen you lose your perspective when it comes to me as well. I am not your responsibility. Leaving doesn’t mean that you love me any less. You’ve sacrificed enough, and you deserve to be happy.”