by Freda, Paula
The Heart Calleth
by Paula Freda
© 2005 by Dorothy Paula Freda
(Pseudonym - Paula Freda)
Smashwords Edition
Bookcover - Licensed iStockphoto
All rights reserved
This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
This novella appeared as part of the anthology novel Heart Bouquets that comprised 3 novellas and 3 short stories written and copyrighted by the same author, Paula Freda.
CHAPTER ONE - Like Trailing Ribbons on a Valentine
CHAPTER TWO - Almost Heaven
CHAPTER THREE - Laura
CHAPTER FOUR - The Road Not Taken
CHAPTER FIVE - Heaven's Gates
The Heart Calleth
by Paula Freda
CHAPTER ONE
Like Trailing Ribbons on a Valentine
Sandra loved Kevin since kindergarten, but for as long, Kevin loved Laura. Puppy love, the grown-ups tagged Sandra's feelings. By her thirteenth birthday she agreed with them. By then, Kevin and Laura were inseparable, as though born joined at the heart. Sandra wanted nothing but the best for Kevin, and Laura was the best. Kevin was smart, attractive, good-natured, and athletic, qualities Sandra had been reared to admire. Laura was beautiful, with the grace of a matte portrait, and character to go along with it. Sandra sincerely cared for both of them. Like trailing ribbons on a valentine, she became their best friend.
All three lived on the same block in the small Massachusetts town, attended the same schools, and graduated Greenvale High on the same bright sunny morning. The trio's parents were friends as well. Sandra's parents had divorced when she was an infant. Neither had wanted her. Her conception had been an accident, after a night of too much partying. Her mother's sister, Jennifer, officially adopted Sandra and raised her with all the love and care she would have given her own child.
All that Sandra had ever wanted was to be wanted. But on those few occasions when her parents passed by their small hometown, a hug and a shake of the hand were all they were capable of giving her. Both lived and worked in major cities, in management and sales. Their work required them to travel. Often Sandra had hardly memorized their new addresses and phone numbers, before a letter arrived informing her one or the other had relocated. Both her parents had contributed towards her education. Each sounded appropriately disappointed when she informed them separately, of her decision to leave college and join the local working force. She opted for a Typist job at Greenvale's local and only bank. Her twenty-second year found her seated beside Laura on a bleacher at a UC Davis campus, applauding enthusiastically as Kevin received his Bachelor Degree in Agricultural and Environmental Sciences. She had traveled cross country by air with Laura to the California campus.
Laura's pale blue eyes, a shade lighter than her neatly pressed pantsuit, beamed quietly with pride at her fiancé's achievement. She, herself, only a week prior, had graduated from their hometown College with a Bachelor in Education, and awaited certification to teach on a grammar school level. Next week, she and Kevin were to be married. Sandra had consented to be one of their bridesmaids. She considered Kevin enormously lucky, and well on his way to achieving his dream of owning and operating a profitable fruit and vegetable farm, and marrying his childhood sweetheart.
Growing fruits and vegetables was not the loftiest of dreams, but the earth and its natural resources had always intrigued Kevin. He wanted to make his living from and by the earth. His parents had been farmers in their native Abruzzi in Central Italy before immigrating to America, and he had been born shortly after. All through his childhood and young adult years, his mother and father had imbued him with a love for the soil and what it could yield under a nurturing hand. From early Spring to late Fall, the garden behind his parents' grey-shingled home, a modest cape cod, was his training ground. Bearing fruits and veggies in abundance, the garden was the marvel of the block.
"It'll be over soon," Laura said, siphoning Sandra's thoughts back to the present. "After the Ceremony, Mom and Dad would like you to join them in the guests' lounge. Kevin and I are joining his roommate and friends for some final good-byes. We may take a later flight back." Sandra nodded. She understood. Kevin would naturally only want Laura with him. Both had been kind enough to invite her to the graduation. They were always kind to her, taking her, as if under their wing, for as far back as she could remember.
As it turned out, Sandra did not see Laura and Kevin until later that week, two days before their wedding, at the church rehearsal.
Our Lady of the Roses was a Roman Catholic Church that over the decades had opted to keep its traditional interior. Except for the changes in the Mass's Liturgy, mainly from Latin to English, and the Altar repositioned so the Priest faced his congregation during the Celebration of the Mass and the Holy Eucharist, the Church's hallowed interior continued to boast dark wood and gold trim. The pews, fastidiously polished each week, smelled of walnut and lemon oil. Statues of the Blessed Lady of Fatima and several Saints, stood in carved alcoves, each with his or her own cascade of flickering candles in red glass holders. A flesh tone enameled figure of Christ nailed to a huge wood Cross, hung from the ceiling over the main Altar.
Sandra loved this Church, especially the Cross, and the expression on Christ's face. The artist who designed this particular Cross had imagined the Lord a moment before death, eyes filled with suffering and weariness, yet conferring an encompassing forgiveness and benevolence. To Sandra the figure seemed almost to breathe, and in its presence she felt protected and reassured. No matter what life might throw at her, the God-man on the Cross was there to give her strength and courage, just as He'd been there on her thirteenth birthday, when she had finally realized she stood no chance to win Kevin's love. Kevin would always love Laura. Emulating the benevolence in that gaze, she had forgiven, accepted the inevitable, and extended her love to Laura as well, enfolding the two as one.
Watching the two as Father Theo explained how the bridal party should enter the church, where they should stand, what was expected of the best man, Sandra felt content. Laura might have gloated, or flaunted her conquest. Sandra, with her drab complexion and wavy brown hair that tended to frizz when it rained, was no match for Laura's ash blonde curls, light matte skin and rosy cheeks. Neither was she her match intellectually. Laura grasped ideas quickly. Her IQ was above average. She spoke eloquently, her completed college education evident. Sandra was smart, but not quick. Her pronunciation left much to be desired. She often stumbled while speaking as she struggled to find the right words to convey her meanings. Yet in one respect she had to admit that she was slightly better than Laura and that was that she, Sandra, discerned more of life. She had the capacity to see between, above and beneath the images presented. She could tell by observing Father's Theo's face, that he'd had a rough day. In actuality, anyone could see he was tired, from the haggard look on his face, but Sandra could read in his eyes a sadness that went beyond a normal day's hardships. He was in pain, physical or mental; she was sure of it. So much so, that by the end of the rehearsal she touched his arm in a friendly gesture. "What's wrong, Father?"
Father Theo arched his dark eyebrows flecked with gray, in surprise. She caught the momentary hesitation before he replied in a resigned tone, "My mother passed away this morning. She was sick for a long time. We knew she was near the end. But somehow you just keep hoping."
Sandra's hand closed about his arm comfortingly. "As you've said many times over to grieving parishioners, 'She's at peace now. The Lord's light warms her, and his arms enfold her.'"
Nodding his thanks for her concern, he said, "Her wake is tomorrow. She
always hoped I would be the one to administer the last rites. I was at least able to grant her that wish."
"Was she aware of you doing so."
"Yes, Very much. She smiled, and blessed me back. I never could get the last word with her," he said, chuckling fondly.
Sandra's usher, Kevin's cousin, called out to tell her they were preparing to leave.
"Go on, Sandy," Father urged. "I can handle my grief." He looked up at the Cross. "I'm not alone."
* * *
The wedding day arrived, bright, warm and perfect in Sandra's opinion. Laura's brown ranch-style home bustled with activity. The female side of the bridal party was gathered in her pink carpeted bedroom, donning their lilac gowns, and pinning sprigs of lavender in their hair. Laura's elder sister was to be her maid of honor. Her gown was the color of pale apricot.
Everyone in the house seemed nervous, except Laura. A momentary hush filled the living room when she entered. She reminded Sandra of a fairy princess. Her ash blonde hair was plaited and curled and piled softly atop her head and crowned by a garland of tiny white rosebuds. Pearl drops hung from her earlobes, and a thin gold chain with a single pearl encircled her tall, slender neck. It rested against the milky expanse of her chest above the gown's scooped neckline. French Chantilly lace, dotted with tiny pink rosebuds overlaid the wedding dress. As Laura sat down on the taupe velvet couch, she continued calm and in charge, the expression in her light blue eyes warm and inviting. "Yes, the florist confirmed the order this morning. The flowers will be here shortly," she reassured her mother. "Don't worry, Dad. The manager at the Limousine Service called this morning to confirm the time. The doorbell's ringing," she spoke over the murmuring of guests gathering in the living room.
"I'll get it," Sandra said. She wove through the crowded room with its black shag rug and peeked through the window that flanked the right side of the door. It was the photographer and her assistant.
All went as planned. Laura remained unruffled by all the commotion of picture taking and best wishes. In contrast, by the time they arrived at the Church, Sandra was exhausted, overheated and motion sick, and wishing the day was over. Kelly, a friend and one of the bridesmaids, remarked that Sandra looked ill. But before Sandra could answer, she and the other three bridesmaids had turned their attention back to Laura. As it should be, Sandra chided herself, refusing to feel slighted. This was Kevin and Laura's wedding day. She had no business getting sick. She managed the march down the aisle, and took her place with the others on the altar. Thankfully, the Church was air-conditioned. As she immersed herself in the wedding ceremony, the motion sickness abated. Misty-eyed and content, she listened as Laura and Kevin exchanged their vows ...
Kevin's thoughts were mirrored in his eyes as he gazed adoringly at his bride to be. How exquisite she looked in her lacy white gown and trailing veil; he pictured a white camellia, adorned with pearls and tiny rosebuds. He could hardly believe she was standing beside him preparing to promise herself to him for all the days of her life. He did not deserve her. She was all he had ever wanted in a woman. And she loved him, with all his faults. She knew him better than anyone, better than his own mother. He wondered how he had ever won her heart.
"Dearest Laura," he began. "Since I first saw you in Kindergarten, dressed in that yellow jumper, your hair a mass of golden curls, I knew I would love you forever." For weeks he had worked on his vows, wanting to express his deepest feelings in the just the right words. "And throughout our school years," he went on, his voice trembling with emotion, "I often dreamed of this day, waking up to find it was just that, a dream ... until now. I can hardly believe that one as beautiful and kind, smart, loving, and levelheaded as yourself, should want to promise herself to me, just a simple, ordinary guy. If I have any special qualities, they are the love and desire … and dedication I feel ... have always felt, for you, my beloved Laura. You are my friend and my lover. To you I promise my life, my undying desire and love, my very soul." Hard-pressed to tear his gaze from Laura's, Kevin turned to his nephew, a boy of six, delightfully handsome in a child's white tux. The boy nervously held a white satin pillow in his small hands. "Teddy, the rings," Anthony De Stefano, Kevin's younger brother and the Best Man, motioned to the frightened ring bearer. Shakily, but quickly, the boy held out the pillow with the pair of matching diamonded gold wedding bands. Father Theo's white and gold vestments of joy and celebration complemented the color scheme as he blessed the rings. Kevin then took the rings and handed Laura his wedding band to hold while he finished his vows.
"With this ring, I thee endow with all that is mine. To thee I promise my love, my faithfulness, and my very soul, until my dying day." Kevin placed the ring around the slender finger of his bride."
Laura could hardly speak, overcome with the warmth and radiance emanating from her beloved groom. Her voice trembled as well as she pronounced her vows. "Dearest Kevin. How wrong you are to call yourself simple and ordinary, unless by simple you mean ... the gentlest man I ever met. I remember you as well in Kindergarten, and the small brown shorts and white T-shirt with the picture of a red and blue Spiderman poised in the act of climbing. I remember thinking, 'Oh my, Spiderman's going to crawl right up his throat.' You just stood there and stared at me, large round eyes wide with awe. And from that day you never left my side. But I never minded, you were so shy, so willing to please me. And as for 'ordinary', oh my beloved, you underestimate yourself. Your gentleness is matched only by your loyalty and your kindness to every living creature, right down to stray kittens and lost puppies. Could I help but love you? I'm the one who is fortunate and blessed that you should choose me to spend your life with." She showered him with a radiant look of love, adding, "Therefore, my dearest love, with this ring I thee wed, and promise to love and cherish you, in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, for richer, for poorer, till death do us part." Laura placed the ring she held around Kevin's finger. Father Theo pronounced them man and wife, and Laura and Kevin kissed tenderly.
Sandra's tears rolled down her tinted cheeks. What a fool I was as a child, she thought, recalling her hopes that Kevin requite her feelings for him. She, too, remembered that day in kindergarten. Laura had started school a few days into the beginning of the term. Sandra, in her childish, innocent mode, was already infatuated with Kevin, following him around like a lovesick puppy. Rejected by her parents, she sought friendship wherever she could find it, desperately needing to feel wanted and appreciated. It had been easy to turn her affections to young Kevin. Laura was right about his gentle spirit. Even at the mischievous age of five, he was kind to Sandra, never teasing her, or rejecting her friendship like some of the other classmates had. At five years of age, Sandra was mousy and chubby, and a little spoiled, due to Aunt Jennifer's indulgent and determined efforts to compensate for her sister's and brother-in-law's selfish negligence. Without her aunt's love, and Kevin and Laura's friendship, she was sure to have grown up a bitter and cynical woman.
Smiling at the handsome couple as they turned to face their overjoyed relatives gathered in the pews, Sandra felt at peace. She had never and would not at this moment, lie to herself, that she did not wish she were standing in Laura's place. But she felt no real jealousy toward Laura. Only perhaps a distant longing for an unattainable fantasy. With this spirit of affection and friendship, she joined the other bridesmaids and ushers congratulating Kevin and his beautiful bride.
The reception that evening fulfilled everyone's expectations. Champagne and sparkling Rosé flowed liberally, along with music, dancing, laughter and well wishes. Sandra stayed to the end. She drove herself home, quite sober. A glass each of champagne and wine was all she had allowed herself, sipping as she ate and between dances. She was not the best of dancers, but had never let that fact stop her from swaying, shimmying, and shuffling her shoes off.
The following day she slept late, waking briefly at dawn to a vague feeling of mental discomfort. Too sleepy to dwell upon it, she fell asleep again to dream of a storm-to
ssed sea, giant waves, and a cruise ship turned on its side and sinking. She felt no fear for herself as she was merely a spectator. The sea raged, and the very air seemed to shake. Screams and cries melded with the roaring and pounding rush of waves hundreds of feet high. From somewhere above her, a frenzied voice kept calling her name. The scene before her convulsed, and began to fade, as Sandra came awake and found her Aunt shaking her.
"Sandy, get up, throw anything on; we've got to get out of here," her aunt was shouting, frantic with fear.
It took Sandra a moment to realize that her room and the entire house, their small comfortable cape cod, her haven of security, was also shaking and rocking uncontrollably. She sprang from the bed, fighting the motion sickness to which she was prone as the floor moved under her feet. She grabbed her robe from a hook at her bedside, and threw it over her shoulders.
"Your purse, Sandy. Get your purse. Some money. I'll get our security box." Aunt Jennifer had always been the resourceful one. She kept important documents in a small fireproof security box in her bedroom.
As the two women ran down the quivering stairs, the roof began to crumble. They made it out the door just as the house caved in upon itself. Outside was utter chaos. Electric poles crashed down, wires tore apart, spluttering and sparking deadly charges. Neighbors ran screaming from their buckling homes as the buildings collapsed, water mains ruptured and sprung forth as geysers. The earth churning, streets cracked and opened and swallowed, gas mains exploded bursting into flames. Sandra and her aunt barely missed one such crack and explosion. They fled along with their neighbors, firefighters and policemen, who realized they could do nothing at the moment but help their charges flee the earthquake's devastation. There were moments as Sandra and her aunt ran, following those in front, not knowing where they were headed, that she wondered if she was still dreaming. At last they reached higher ground in a woody area overlooking their town. The stunned survivors milled about in horror watching their small world below them sink into the ground.