No Greater Love

by Susan Rodgers

  “Coming?” he asked her, firmly.

  It took Michelle a minute. Finally her eyes met his and, despite a feeling of foreboding, she was powerless to walk away from this man.

  “Yes,” she answered, but her voice was faint and her legs watery and elastic.

  Michelle climbed into the big truck and prepared herself for the long ride home. She shook her head as if to realign her belief and role in her relationship and, this time, when Josh set the volume on the radio, she didn’t attempt to change it.

  ***

  Chapter Seven

  The Edinburgh fall turned out to be a hazy fun blur. Jessie hung out by herself a lot as well as occasionally with Charlene, who was inordinately jealous that Jessie was financially self-sufficient. Jessie told Charlene she simply had some savings, but John Paul divulged just how extraordinary that ring around her neck was. So Charlene figured rightly her red headed friend must have come from money although, other than the ring and not having to take a job, and seemingly not concerned about securing a visa to allow her to stay in the country past six months, Jessie certainly didn’t show it.

  From Holyrood Palace, a home of the ill-fated Mary, Queen of Scots, to Edinburgh Castle, Jessie toured the famous Royal Mile from top to bottom and throughout all the streets in between. She purchased passage on the train and went north to the high-speed ferry that spirited her across the water to Belfast, Ireland, and she travelled down through the Emerald Isle to Dublin. Everywhere she went the Gibson was a loyal sidekick. Comforted by the peace and quiet of the various cozy inns where she laid her head, and then in her flat back in Scotland, Jessie found herself finally relaxing, and so new music found its way from inside her soul to the strings of the old guitar.

  As Christmas approached she spent more time in Edinburgh itself, often in the pub where Jacob and John Paul entertained on a regular basis when they weren’t touring in France, Germany or elsewhere in Europe. She was a loyal fan of the boys. Jessie got a strange kick out of this turnaround in her life – it was nice to support other musicians for a change. It helped her understand the dynamic of being admired for her own music.

  Often she and Jacob got together just to play tunes. Jessie - or Annie, as he knew her - had a knack for working out tricky music, and she was also humble and efficient at changing guitar strings, especially during those unexpected times in the midst of gigs at the pub when a string would snap. She was careful to keep her head down, to wear bright colors in her hair, and to dress somewhat punk. Jessie was enjoying her new friendships and her adopted Scots city. She did not want to be recognized.

  Although Jacob was still a man of few words, with him she managed to establish a safe friendship imbued with music and based on mutual trust and respect. She refrained from one-night stands with other men – the experience with John Paul had been unsettling, the way her emotions overflowed when she let herself go with him. Jacob continued his occasional flings. Occasionally Jessie felt unnerved and perhaps even jealous of her new songwriting partner’s sexual affiliations, but she always loosened up when none seemed to really stick. He was proving to be, like her, quite the loner. Besides, she told herself, the only reason I am jealous is because I miss my own man, Josh, who is now apparently happy dating some Michelle chick back in Vancouver. Jessie refused to admit to herself that it was Jacob Ryan’s essence, his spirit, which she longed to feel against her skin and within her soul.

  Then, it was Christmas. The special day itself she dedicated to God. At Midnight Mass, she prayed for the Savior’s birth and all her friends past and present. The little group spent Christmas Day together, happy with each other’s company, but each could sense certain ennui in the others as many of their loved ones were far away.

  They all made calls home except for Jessie, who told the others she was going home to her own flat to do so. Once there she just drank Baileys, cozied up in her big chair by the frosted window, staring longingly out at the pale winter moon. Later she sauntered back to Jacob’s for Christmas dinner, capped off with music and drink.

  The next day, Boxing Day, everything changed again.

  Cold starry nights call forth the dreamers and the lovers. They beckon artists and musicians. They give comfort to the lonely. Starry nights give permission for release.

  This night in Edinburgh, with Christmas one day old, Jessie drifted under an inky enchanted sky towards Jacob’s flat. Snow trampled beneath her brown cowboy boots left imprints of her existence on the planet. With hands thrust deep in the pockets of a thrift store bomber jacket, she left a trail of erratic footprints behind.

  Jessie had spent the day alone in her space coloring her hair, playing guitar, eating chocolate chip cookies, and drinking Baileys. She broke a cardinal rule she set for herself when she ran away from Vancouver. Since it was the day after Christmas, her loneliness was acute. She found comfort in allowing herself to play some of her own favorite old songs. Quietly, she strummed and fingerpicked on the Gibson as she let her mind roam. The full impact of leaving settled into her bones as she wondered what the people she loved were all doing back in Canada. According to the rag bags Charlie had Jane now, and Josh was dating the Michelle gal. At the very least, she was grateful Charles and Dee had each other. Jessie sent a hushed prayer up to the starlit sky and begged God to keep all of them healthy and safe. Then she silently sent them a song she knew they couldn’t hear – it was a Christmas piece she’d recorded with Christian a few weeks before the disastrous late August concert.

  The actual recording of the simple song opened with Christian’s delicate touch on the ivories. After a few phrases, Jessie joined in with soulful lyrics of love and loss. It was a song flooded with heartache, with painful remembrances of the magical Christmas prior when Josh asked her to marry him. It spoke of hope and spirit and joy and Josh.

  Today, cross-legged on the floor in her flat, Jessie picked out the first notes on the guitar since she had no piano. She played with care and precision, bobbed hair falling around her face like a waterfall in silent complement to the wet trails on her cheeks. The newly colored hair was supposed to help her through the difficult season. She needed another transformation. It was now a vibrant shade of lavender, another layer burying her soul ever deeper, serving to mask yet again the real Jessie as Annie Hayden reigned in Scotland.

  I see you in my dreams

  Your face wet with the falling snow,

  turned towards me as we kiss

  in love and faith and hope.

  Your body warms me this Christmas night

  As your fingers brush against my cheek.

  I see the snowflakes, feel the wetness there

  But it’s only tears, and I push away the loss.

  I beg for the sweet release of sleep.

  I recall you making angels in the snow,

  your arms wide and filled with hope.

  I lie down beside you but you melt away

  I reach for you but all I find is a puddle of tears.

  If I had a Christmas wish

  that I thought might come true

  I would ask for the stars to hear me

  And send me only you.

  I love you again as I drift back into sleep

  You lie beside me in our bed.

  We are lovers again and it feels so right

  I touch you and kiss you; I call you sleepy head.

  You smile, and we love again

  as the ocean calls outside our window.

  The waves echo in the snow.

  They are frozen, as is time.

  I wake, and once again I know

  That it’s only a memory, this you I see

  in my dreams at Christmastime.

  You are no longer real

  Unless I sleep, then there you are

  in my arms, under the moonlit stars

  And the love for you I keep

  always and forever.

  And the love for you I keep as I sleep

  always and forever.

  ***


  As Jessie sang of loss for an audience of one – herself - seven thousand kilometers away across the ocean Deirdre Keating was losing herself in thought and memory. Absently, helping Carlotta prepare for a Boxing Day gathering at La Casa, she carefully wiped the Waterford crystal placed at each setting for dinner and allowed herself to remember Jessie and the many Christmases they had passed happily with Charles and Charlie. Was it all an illusion? Had any of it been real? As she cleaned each delicate wine glass, Dee tortured herself by playing Jessie’s music loudly over the iPod dock in the kitchen.

  Dusting the cozy Paul Peel painting in the elegant creamy front room, Carlotta also stopped in reflection as Jessie’s dusky voice permeated the house. They all missed Jessie. This was her second Christmas away from them. Was she alive? Was she suffering? Would she ever come home?

  By four p.m. the guests were arriving. Charles and Dee ached for Jessie’s presence in their lives so they had invited her friends to share a meal with them; they invited the people who once knew Jessie well. The Deacons were always regular guests on Boxing Day, anyway. This year Jack and Lydia arrived together with Charlie and Jane. It hurt Dee to see them this way. As much as she adored Jane and was happy for Charlie, she felt Jessie’s absence sharply. The ache deepened when Stephen arrived with Sue-Lyn as his “date”, with Josh and Michelle stepping into the grand foyer of La Casa behind them.

  Charles draped an arm around his wife when he sensed her torment. They had thought this party would be good for her, but maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea. Still, she was doing her best.

  Dee stepped forward and hugged the young people each in turn. She gave Josh an extra squeeze, overcompensating for the pain she had caused him. They were fast friends now, two soldiers fighting the same long drawn-out war. Kindly, Dee forced herself to welcome Michelle as well.

  Lastly, Jonathon and Giselle arrived just ahead of Matt and his wife Julie. Carlotta took their coats and handed them to the extra staff Charles hired for the occasion, who scooted them off to a large closet off the main hallway. A light snow had drifted down onto the homes and streets in Vancouver that day, one of those soft pretty snowfalls that make walking slippery and driving treacherous. Now the clouds were moving on and an exultant sun was emerging, glorious and triumphant.

  Charles inquired about the drive to North Van as he served drinks in the elegantly appointed front room before dinner.

  “It wasn’t too bad,” Jonathon replied as he accepted a brandy from his host, ecstatic to be celebrating the Christmas season in the presence of his son. “I know there were pile-ups this morning though, out in Coquitlam, at least. Transit, or at least the Skytrain, ground to a halt for a bit.”

  “I suppose it’s a good thing we got this snowfall today,” said Dee. “A lot of people wouldn’t have had to go to work, at least.”

  Lydia jumped in. “Oh yes, that’s true dear, but there was still the usual Boxing Day frenzy in the stores. The downtown was busy even as we came through. A number of buses were parked on Granville that couldn’t get up the hill; they were all lined up by the sidewalk. That must have caused some problems for shoppers.”

  The older couples continued their conversation about traffic and Boxing Day sales as Charlie and Jane chatted with Josh and Steve. Michelle and Sue-Lyn were off in the corner sipping Pinot Grigio, discussing the ebb and flow of the film and television industry in Vancouver with Matt and Julie.

  “Where are Maggie and Carter today?” Charlie asked Steve, ubiquitous bourbon in hand. “Home for Christmas?”

  “Maggie’s still doing theater in New York so she’s there with family. She’ll be up for a visit in January,” Steve responded. “Carter’s in Texas with some model he met at your club.”

  “Carter doesn’t sound to me like he’ll ever settle down.”

  “Give him some credit,” Jane jested, poking Charlie in the ribs. “You settled down!”

  “So far,” Josh said, grinning mischievously with a wink at Charlie. “You might want to hold your breath, Jane.”

  She poked him in the ribs, indignant. To everyone’s surprise Charlie was proving to be a faithful boyfriend, and Jane trusted that he had no intention of messing with the dynamic this time around.

  Josh continued. “As for Carter, I think the girl he dated the longest was Ashley. I think she left to do sets or something for Joss Whedon. Broke his heart.”

  They were all quiet, at that. Even their good friend Carter had suffered at the hands of a leaving. But to their knowledge, at least he and Ashley were still in touch on a regular basis, whereas Jessie’s whereabouts were a painful mystery.

  “Who wouldn’t, shit,” said Steve vaguely as he glanced around Dee’s room and pictured Jessie sitting under the Paul Peel, warming herself by the big fireplace. “I’d do sets for Joss Whedon.”

  Michelle smiled at the banter and then glanced down at Jane’s hand, which was wrapped delicately around her wine glass. Something was off – she was holding the glass with her left hand. Spying Michelle’s inquisitive stare Jane smiled widely, switched the glass to her right hand, and wiggled the fingers of her left as she raised an eyebrow to her friend.

  “Eeek!” Michelle cried out. “Is that an engagement ring?”

  Nodding happily, Jane beamed as she and Charlie were suddenly the delighted recipients of joyous hugs from everyone in the room. Exchanging solemn glances at Charlie’s news, Charles and Dee were the last to congratulate the two, whose relationship was only a few short months old.

  Tentatively, Dee approached Charlie after giving Jane a warm hug and a fond kiss on the cheek.

  “I’m happy for you, Charlie. Sincerely.” She embraced him affectionately.

  He took her hand and gave it a squeeze as Charles patted him on the back and spoke gruffly, his voice choked with emotion. “Charlie. If there’s ever anything either you or Jane need, just give us a shout. You know we’re here for you.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, guys,” Charlie said. He shrugged. “Just for the record, you should know I’ll always consider you both my in-laws, in a way. Step-parents or something.” He paused, and then looked down before meeting Dee’s eyes again. He shifted his feet on the plush Turkish rug. “Jane’s good for me. But I’ll always love Jessie, as we all will.”

  He didn’t add whether or not we ever see her again.

  Just then Carlotta stepped in and touched Dee on the shoulder.

  “Missus Keating,” she said officially. “Dinner can be served anytime, whenever you and your guests are ready.” The plump maid took her job seriously. She saw the Keatings as her wards, and she loved them deeply. It was partially her job to ensure everyone had a good time tonight. She frowned when she saw the pained expression on Deirdre’s lined face. They all knew the evening would be difficult but it was the Christmas season, a time of joy, and Carlotta more than anyone wanted to see the formidable Dee happy.

  “Charlie and Jane are engaged,” Dee informed Carlotta, trying to smile broadly.

  Carlotta, in some ways, was also Dee’s confidante and kindred spirit. She felt the woman’s spirit deflate as she shared the news. Oh, dear. With one hand Carlotta reached out and rubbed her boss’ back, with the other she gently touched Charlie’s arm. She pulled him forth into a big bear hug.

  “What wonderful news,” she said genuinely.

  Dee stepped back and watched as the light re-entered Charlie’s eyes. Once again, Deirdre was learning from her maid. She was eternally grateful for Carlotta, who always seemed to be a quiet little mouse in the corner, yet had the strength and wisdom to be the glue that held her and Charles together. She was a solid member of their small family. Silently, Dee wished Carlotta would be sitting at the table with them tonight. Her guileless grace was keeping them sane through this second Christmas without their girl.

  Striding towards the center of the capacious richly tapestried room, Charles raised a glass.

  “To Jane and Charlie,” he toasted.

  Collectively they raised their glass
es; Dee forced a smile. She was watching Michelle and Josh, who were whispering conspiratorially and sharing the occasional little kiss. Dee’s heart pounded as she prayed that they, too, weren’t getting engaged. She couldn’t bear the thought of everyone leaving Jessie behind. Feeling her eyes on him, Josh looked up. He could sense what Dee was thinking, but he had to go on. Life had to go on without Jessie, and that’s the message he telegraphed back to Dee on the dust beams floating defiantly down to earth from the grand crystal chandelier above.

  Proudly raising her head, Dee turned and followed Carlotta out of the room, trying to convince herself that she could endure this evening. She was amongst friends, after all.

  Charles followed, ushering the rest of the gang towards a waiting dinner of turkey Thai curry with jasmine rice, and raspberry cheesecake for dessert.

  Dee took a detour to the washroom before settling into her distinguished dining room. She needed a moment to collect herself. Silently she closed her eyes and whispered an earnest prayer she hoped would somehow reach Jessie, wherever the girl happened to be in the world during this Christmas season. Prayers were all Dee had left. Hope was getting scarce.

  ***

  When Jessie reached Jacob’s flat, the party was already in full force.

  Good, she thought. I need people. I need drink. I need weed.

  Shrugging her coat off and flinging it to the floor in the corner with other assorted winter garb, she pushed her way through a throng of revelers and ended up at John Paul’s side. He was standing at a buffet table that he, Charlene and Jacob prepared earlier in the day. It was peppered with odds and sods of snacks and drink. Jessie grabbed a paper plate and helped herself. All she had eaten that day were chocolate chip cookies.