In This Life (35 page)

“I love the golden glaze on these antique plates,” I said as Maggie carried a basket full of them and we lined up at the counter.

“Geez, remind me next time never to come here on a weekend,” she said exhaustedly. “Spark, are you okay? I don’t want you to stand too long. Why don’t you find a place to sit while I pay for these?” Everyone still called me Spark in honor of his memory.

“Yeah, if that’s okay, I’m going to sit for a few.”

I walked away, eager to find a chair to rest my legs for a few minutes. Lately, I’d been feeling a little heavier. I hadn’t gained any weight yet, but the morning sickness that had ravaged my body during the first trimester had really worn me out. I found a newly upholstered chair in the middle of the aisle on the opposite end of the store. I sat down and fixed my eyes on my bulky, swollen feet.

“Annie?” A man’s voice stirred me away from my musings. I looked up to see him standing next to a young woman pushing a stroller with two baby boys sleeping soundly side by side. He looked older, still handsome but with visible lines around a ragged looking face. “Is that you?”

“Jack,” I said, alarmed by the serenity of my reaction. I held no anger for my mother’s former lover, had no urge to run away.

“Are you—”

“Yes.” I laughed nervously. “Quite big for four months, I know.” I placed my purse on my lap and nervously twisted its strap over and over again until I feared it would come apart.

He turned to the woman who had the clearest, most innocent eyes I had ever seen. “Honey, do you mind if I speak to Annie for a few minutes?” She pushed the stroller away from us and headed in the opposite direction. “That’s my wife, Nadia. And those two little boys are Ethan and Cameron.”

Nadia. Arabian for the beginning. The end of my mother was the beginning for Jack and his new family.

“They’re beautiful.”

“Listen, I want to apologize for not trying to contact you. It’s just that it’s taken me a long time to come to terms with everything.” He pulled a flimsy looking stepstool from underneath a shelf and set it down next to me.

“I understand,” I said.

“How is your family? And your husband Dante?”

“Dad gets out of rehab this week. Mikey is doing well in school. And Dante…” I paused for a moment to collect myself. “There was an accident. He passed away a few weeks ago.”

“Oh! I am so sorry,” he mumbled. “How are you holding up? Are you okay? Is he the—”

“Father? Yes, yes, he is. Was,” I said, trying to shut it down. I didn’t want to share any more than that. I knew that the uncomfortable silence that followed was because he was waiting for the right time to tell me something. He made an attempt to take my hand, but I shied away, pretending to brush my hair to keep it busy.

“I loved her so much, you know,” he said sadly. I believed him now. Only true love could have made her that happy. The look on her face that night—she was luminescent.
“We were going to be married after she filed for an annulment. You know your mom, she was a very religious woman. She wanted to do things the right way. Despite the fact that we had an affair, she wanted to make it right. In the end, she just ran out of time.”

Maggie came running down the hall with three large bags that clinked and clanked in cadence with her steps. “There you are! I found more things to buy.” She laughed, ready to hear me make some snide comment about her shopping habits.

Jack stood up abruptly as soon as he saw me attempt to get out of the chair.

“Mags, this is Jack Laurent. Jack, this is my best friend, Maggie.”

Maggie eyed him cautiously but reached out her hand to him just the same.

“We have to go, Jack. It was very nice seeing you. I’m glad that things have worked out for you. Congratulations on your new baby boys and I wish you all the best,” I said as I started to pull Maggie in the direction of the door.

“Bye, Annie. You take care, too, and I’m very sorry for your loss.”

ON THE NIGHT
of my day off, one week after seeing Jack at the antique store, I arrived home to find a letter from him waiting for me. I wished I hadn’t run into him, wished I didn’t have to remember. I was so engrossed in my grief over Dante that I set aside the loss that I had suffered six years ago. I was filled with guilt to think that my mother meant any less to me than my best friend. They were different and yet identical in so many ways.

I began to detect a pattern, a predestined flow in the events of my life. Dante was there for me when my mother passed away. He helped me through my remorse, my regret, and the times when I missed her so much that I wanted to crawl under the bed covers and die. He constantly reminded me that she was happy before she passed, and he relentlessly snapped me out of my depression by taking me on trips and showing me new places.

Before he left, Dante wanted Jude to do the same for me. Replace him, take his place. Now Jack was back, and he too played a part in the second act of my life. Bound by loss and united in despair, he formed a part of my cluster of stars and together we cruised the midnight sky.

I sat on the floor in the middle of my apartment and tore open the white linen envelope that revealed two completely different sheets of stationery.

The first one was neatly typed on business letterhead. It was a letter from Jack.

Dear Anna,

Once again, I sincerely apologize for taking so long to send this to you. For years, I struggled to hold on to anything and everything she owned, touched, and loved. You see, I had no home with her, no children, no memories, no tangible items to keep with me as a remembrance of our time together. When she wrote you this note on the night of her surgery, I was furious at you for refusing to come home from Thailand. I didn’t think you deserved this letter. And as I watched you break down at her funeral, my reason for holding this letter changed into one of sympathy for the remorse that you felt over not seeing her before she passed away.

Your mother loved her children more than anything else in her life. If you had asked her to leave me, she would have done so in a heartbeat. To her, your happiness always came first and foremost. As a future mother, you should be proud of the example that she set for you.

With warm regards,

Jack

He was a good man. And he loved her. I wished she could be with me now, I wished she could see what was in my heart. We were molded together, fused by the similar experiences in our lives. We took what we could, little scraps of time. But the love that we had for the men in our lives—whether it be months or years or fifty-eight days—there were millions in this world who had never had the privilege of finding a love that was this deep and real and true.

The second letter was from my mother, written on college ruled paper. I smiled to myself when I remembered the trusty notebook that she kept in her purse everywhere she went. Mikey and I bought it for her after I caught her writing her ideas on a square sheet of toilet paper from a public women’s restroom.

To my dearest, darling daughter,

Sometimes, there comes a time in one’s life when there’s an unshakable feeling, an inkling that something big is about to happen. Don’t call me paranoid, but I truly believe that I won’t be making it out of surgery this time.

I’m so sorry for hurting you so much. I was selfish and unthinking about the consequence that my actions would have upon our relationship.

I met Jack on the night that I stayed at the hotel across the street from your school when I came to visit you a year ago. He was there on a business trip, having dinner at the restaurant by himself just like I was. Your father and I had been over for so many years, but I didn’t realize it until I met Jack. He is kind and gentle, and he brings out the best in me. From the minute I met him, I knew that my life was going to change.

I love you, Anna Banana, more than you will ever know. Please forgive me for the way that I selfishly destroyed our home, for the hurt that I inflicted on your father. I am so proud of the woman you have turned out to be. You are strong and smart and independent. But what matters most is that you have a heart as big as the universe.

I love you with all my heart.

Mom

P.S. How is Dante managing himself with all those beautiful Thai women?

Dante had gotten his peace, and at that moment, I was certain I had mine. For the first time in months, I could relive my memories without gasping for air. For the first time since I said goodbye, it no longer hurt to breathe.

MAY 27TH, 2011.
The eve of Maggie’s wedding. Six years after my mother had died, three months after Dante’s passing and I walked away from Jude, and five months after he had planted the seed of life inside of me.

The executive floor of the Waldorf Astoria in Rome had finally quieted down. It was a few hours past midnight, and the room was tranquil and still. As my body changed, as the babies grew inside of me, the hole in my heart expanded with every waking day. The emptiness that I harbored—it was consuming, constricting, crippling. I was desperate to fill it, but I didn’t know how; desperate to fill the void that all three of them had left behind. Here I was, a single mother of twins, whose life had spilled out into emptiness. There were times when I hated having his life inside of me, and there were times when I was so grateful to have a part of him that could never be taken away.

Hours before, it had been a madhouse. Hotel guests walked up and down the halls, knocked on people’s doors, laughter and music filled the air. The rehearsal dinner at La Pergola was an experience in itself. We feasted on a nine course menu which included tartare, scallops, veal, tortellini, and a host of wine and cheeses. I consumed everything placed in front of me, except for the wine, of course. Despite the intimidating imperial furniture, the opulent setting and the unparalleled views of the city, the night was warm and cordial and intimate. The love between the happy couple emanated through their actions, their words, and their inner excitement about the commitment that they were about to make together. It was the perfect time to celebrate life and love and the future. Kingston, Delmar, Paulina, and Milena—they were all in attendance, sharing the happy occasion with us all. Peter had also become an essential part of my life in the last few months; he played a huge role in the weeks after I lost Dante. We whooped out loud, we joked, we reminisced about our days in Thailand. We spoke about the past and pondered about what was to come. And although my heart still hurt to hear their names, I welcomed the mention of Dante and Jude; after all, they had been a part of our history, a part of our past. As the priest gave the blessing over the food, he cited Dante’s name and offered a moment of silence in his memory.

I heard the news that very night.

As we sat at the table after a hefty serving of dessert and admired the panoramic windows that opened us up to the most impressive picture of the city of Rome, Peter was reminded of something.

“Hey, look out there. That’s the dome of St. Peter’s, correct?” Milena pointed towards the fully illuminated structure not too far in the distance. Its lights were so bright that you could actually see the statues lined up along its base.

“Oh yeah,” Peter answered as he leaned in to whisper something in Milena’s ear. She shot me a look then turned her head towards Maggie.

“What?” asked Maggie with a devilish grin. “Spill, Peter.”

“Nothing,” he said as he looked down and stared at his empty plate.

Milena spoke up. She reached out to take my hand in hers. “Peter, I think you should take Anna outside so you can speak to her.”

He nodded his head morosely and tilted it upward to catch my gaze. I offered him my hand across the table. “It’s okay, Peter. Whatever it is, it’s okay.”

He pushed his chair back, stepped over to where I sat, and waited for me to join him. We walked back towards the entrance of the restaurant and stood near a row of couches by the podium.

“Anna, let’s sit,” he suggested.