Grimm's Last Fairy Tale (8 page)

He left the room not a minute too soon. Maggie could hold back no longer. She broke down and cried the only way she knew how—with everything in her. The nurses heard and one of them came in and wrapped her arms around Maggie. She asked if Maggie wanted anything to eat or drink, or if there was anyone she could call. When Maggie declined, the nurse just held her and rocked her like a little child, absorbing the tears into her uniform. Maggie buried her face and let go of everything that had been building up inside of her go. With all of her heart, she wished that she hadn’t banished Jacob from her life. She allowed herself a few moments to grieve, which is a luxury she hadn’t really afforded herself much in the past. Then she sat up, wiped her eyes and took a deep breath.

“There, there. I know this must be incredibly difficult. We are all here for you. You are not alone.”

“I know. I just need to work through this. Would you mind leaving me alone? I’m really alright now. I have my bearings. I just have a lot of things to sort out and some important decisions to make.”

“Of course, Ms. Austen. Just ring if you decide you need something.”

“Thank you.”

When the nurse had left the room, Maggie closed her eyes and whispered a request from the one person she most wanted to see, though three days ago she would have sworn otherwise.

“These are the circumstance under which I am allowed to touch you. You had to find out you were dying first. Carrying you here was part of that process. This is the whole reason I was allowed to manifest myself to you at this time.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Margaret, I have visited you nearly your entire life. I have witnessed someone living through what most people would have buckled under. I have seen you not only survive, but go on to be a kind woman, although somewhat of a recluse. I think that hiding yourself away stems from wanting to protect yourself. If you are alone, no one can leave you.”

“So what changed?”

“When I found out you were ill, I was given permission to show myself to you for support. Margaret, I am your guide. I am sent to make your transition a little less scary. You are a good person. Father in Heaven is aware of what you are going through—all that you have gone through, in fact. He loves you very much. I am here to help.”

Maggie was silent. What could she say to that? She was without logical response. She spent a few moments deep in thought and Jacob allowed her that. Finally, she was able to articulate her thoughts to him.

“How can you help? Are you going to try to convince me to undergo treatment?”

“All decisions are yours. I am not allowed to influence you one way or the other. I am simply here to support you in whatever you decide, and to testify of what is to come. I will give you comfort in whatever way I can.”

“So you’re not even a ghost. You’re like an angel, and you’re telling me that there is something beyond this life? I always thought there was. I just didn’t have any idea what it might consist of.”

“It is magnificent! There are no words to describe, and that is coming from a wordsmith. If you knew, you might want to expedite your arrive there; however, I want to remind you of things that me be incomplete here. I want you to think long and hard of things that might need to be wrapped up—things that might encourage treatment to extend your stay.”

“What do you need to do before you leave? That’s what you need to ask yourself. What do you have to finish and how long will it take?”

“I need to spend some time with each of my children and their families. I’d always planned on visiting every place I ever lived. I’d like to write a book. I’d like to lose a few pounds, but that seems to be happening without any effort on my part. I want to pay off all my old debts. That’s it.”

“I understand. Just let me check your blood pressure and take your temp and I’ll leave you to it. I know that things are rough right now, but you seem like a strong woman. I believe you’ll handle all of this very well.”

“Thank you.”

Maggie smiled a little that someone deemed her strong. She used to consider herself a powerful woman, but that armor had eroded over time and left a very vulnerable woman. Maybe the nurse was right. That which does not kill us makes us strong. Oh, wait. That’s right. This would kill her. But it was no reason not to give it the bet fight she could.

They grinned knowingly at one another and it signaled not only some pent-up emotional relief, but also the start of a journey that would bind them forever.

some very big choices

Maggie was able to leave the hospital 2 days later and was relieved to be back in her own digs. Jacob was at her side all day and watched over her all night. Maggie gave up the bookshop and concentrated on planning her trek to visit her scattered offspring and plan the other things she might have time to accomplish. She felt remarkably at ease, and had pretty much decided to try at least one round of treatment.

One afternoon Jacob asked her to retrieve her writing. She did so willingly and when she had the loose pages spread out, he asked her if she thought any of them were worth completing.

“Why don’t you spend 2 days working on each one and then you can decide from there which one is most important to complete first. Remember, we are not discounting the idea that you may have time for more than one.”

“Actually, Jacob, I’ve decided to try a round or two of chemo. It won’t be easy and I know enough to realize that I’m going to be sick as a dog from the treatments, but I am stronger than I have been in a while and I have you to partially thank for it.”

She waited for his reaction.

All he said was, “Very good.”

There was no real emotion in that response. It hurt her deeply on more than one level. Did he not care? Was he disappointed? Was he worried about the repercussions? Did he think it might rob him of time with her?

Jacob sensed her bewilderment.

“Oh, Margaret, I wish I could give you more of a reaction, but I’m not allowed to. I can only respond without emotion, which is so much harder than they led me to believe. These are rules I did not make up, but rules I must nonetheless abide by.”

Maggie accepted his explanation, but still wore a look of consternation.

“Let’s just move on, shall we?”

Jacob wanted more than anything at this moment to hold her until she understood the depth of his love for her, but there would be time for that. He forced himself to refrain so as not to distract her from her itinerary.

“It’s not that I fear dying, you know. I don’t really. I just think I owe it to myself to feel like I’ve accomplished some things before I go. I have the advantage over most people in that I know my death is imminent. People, and I’m just as guilty as the next person, seem to feel like they have forever and put things off. I have some impetus now to get things done.”

“I understand. So, shall I leave you to your writing? I don’t want to be an impediment.”

“Perhaps. If you are around, I want to spend all my time looking into those eyes and talking. But before you go, may I ask you another question?”

“You really do have an investigative personality, don’t you?”

“I absolutely do. Why didn’t you ever marry and have a family?”

“As I said, I was so involved in my work that I guess I always thought there would be time, as you were speaking about a few moments ago. Then, as time sped by, I considered myself too old to get started. I spent a lot of time with Wilhelm and his family. That worked to an extent. There were many nights that I felt emptiness in my heart and in my bed. It just never happened.”

With that, he made his exit and Maggie pondered how these tiny affectionate tokens spoke volumes to her and were so much more romantic than any passionate anything she had experienced until now. She felt his love in the purest form, without overtures or ulterior motives.

Maggie sat at the computer and began clicking the keyboard with a profusion of intent. She wrote for hours with no break. The words came so easily. It was as if the book were writing itself. Finally, she had to stop and get something to eat and to stretch her stiff, aging limbs.

“This was always in you, Margaret. It just took a wake-up call for you to rearrange your life and find time to do what you love doing. I’ve always known you were a writer by the way you speak to others—the stories you would tell—the way you look at life. People sat captivated by you. You never knew it though.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s another reason I chose to guide you. Not just your love of my works, but your love of words and the power they possess. You know how to manipulate them to convey not only a message, but to make people really feel something in the process. You make them think and feel.”

“Thank you, Jacob. That is so kind of you to say. I confess I am feeling some release in doing this. Sometimes it is hard. Writing finds these buried pockets of emotion and pain and drags them very close to the surface.”