“Baby, you promised me you were going to shut that thing off.” She placed her fork down and stared at me.
“I know. Don’t get mad.” I got up and reach for my phone. I recognized the number; it was my agent Adeline.
“Don’t you dare answer it, Simon Rowe.”
“It’s Adeline. It might be important … just let me see what she wants, and I’ll shut it off, I promise.” She didn’t look at me.
“Hello.” One word to seal my fate. When I first told Adeline I was taking time off, she thought I was crazy. After a few years of getting one or maybe two jobs a month, things had begun to turn around.
“Simon, I told you this day would come, and now you have to hit the ground running,” she’d said to me once. And Adeline had kept me running for quite some time. There are moments I stepped back and couldn’t believe I was doing what I loved for a living. But I also loved Racheal. And finding the balance was not so easy.
“Simon, before you hang up, just listen.” Her raspy voice came through the phone. “I got a job for you. It’s the biggest you’ve ever had, and the most significant amount of money ever offered.”
“Adeline, you’re going to get me into so much trouble.” I looked up at Racheal’s face—too late—I was already in the doghouse.
“Please, if you do this job, Racheal could gain a substantial shoe collection—What does she like? Hermes, Gucci, Versace? I’ll send a carrier over this afternoon.” Adeline thought she knew all women, but Racheal wasn’t like that. She didn’t care for the designer stuff. She was a good person who loved animals, was a vegan, and had a profound talent for jewelry making. Sometimes it made me wonder if that was all I knew about her.
“I’m going to regret asking, but what’s the job?” I looked up at the seat Racheal had been sitting in, now empty.
“It’s to shoot Crystal Z in her L.A. home for Elegant Home magazine.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. I would be turning down a lifetime opportunity.
“For when?” I hoped it would be after my probation.
“Tomorrow … I mean, it’s two days, Simon. Your wife will understand.” She had no idea.
“Look, can I call you back?”
“Listen, hon, I know this is last minute, but you got to let me know, or else I have to pass this on to another photographer.”
“Adeline, just give me twenty minutes.” I hung up the phone, feeling like I would crumble up. Racheal emerged, this time with a change of clothes.
“Come back and sit with me. Aren’t you going to finish breakfast?”
“No.” She wrapped her arms around her chest.
“Racheal … Racheal, I didn’t accept the offer.”
“You told her you’re going to call her back.” She walked past me. I figured she would have been listening to my conversation.
“Yes, because I wanted to discuss this with you before officially turning her down.”
“What’s there to talk about? Looks like you already decided.” She took her running shoes from the front closet.
“I didn’t say yes to anything … if you don’t want me to—” I was talking, but she was already tuning me out.
“All I asked was for two weeks … To have you all to myself. I should have known. The first opportunity comes along, you would drop me.”
“I’m not choosing work over you. The bills stacking up is what’s worrying me.” I knitted my brows together.
“I wouldn’t have asked my sister to replace me at the store if I knew this was going to happen,” she said, tightening her laces with force. As if they were around my neck.
“Yep, ah … that alone was a big mistake,” I said under my breath.
“What did you say?” She shot me a stare.
“Do I have to remind you? The last time, she stole money from the cash register.”
“She was going to replace it before I found out; she was just borrowing it.”
“Oh, that’s what we’re calling it now? But she never replaced the money.”
“You leave my sister out of this. This is about you breaking your promise.”
I wanted to put it behind us, but the reality was there was more than my work coming between our marriage. There was the jewelry shop. A business failing to make money, sucking our account dry. My job was the one thing keeping us afloat. No, I didn’t dare to press that button.
“Racheal, let’s look at this seriously. We could use the money, and I’ll be back in two days—”
“I don’t care. You’ve made a promise, and now you’re breaking it.” So much for a happy wife. I sometimes felt she resented me for my profession and the success I was having with it.
“Why can’t you be happy for me? I’m doing this for us, for our future …”
“No, you’re doing this for yourself and this big dream of yours.” Racheal stood up and threw her hands in the air.
“Of course I want to be recognized for what I do, for what I love. Who wouldn’t want that? God knows I work my arse off enough for it.”
“Simon, I know how this is going to be. You’re on your way to becoming a bright star, and I’ll be the one left behind,” she said. She plugged her ears with her headphones, just before she walked out the door.
Deafening silence.
I called Adeline, told her I wouldn’t be taking the job, and waited for Racheal to come back from her run.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed after that, but the sounds of glass and metal impacting just outside the window jolted me out of my chair.
A woman’s scream … The kind you hear in movies, the kind that pierces through your heart, had me out the door, barefoot. I got to the front steps, when I paused, feeling disbelief over what I was seeing. A car had come up the curb, close to the front steps of my building. A few people ran to see if the driver was okay.
He seemed so, if not entirely fine.
“Call the ambulance,” someone shouted, but I already had the number on my phone.
“There’s someone underneath the car.” I caught a glimpse of a white running shoe, laces still tied, lying there a few feet from where I stood.
Then I knew. Nothing can prepare you for moments like these. When you’re about to walk into your worst nightmare. No time to process what was going on, no time for panic.
Just action.
I remember little about what happened next, but I was told later I lifted the car up enough for two bystanders to pull her out. They later called it superhero strength in the local newspaper. It’ was ironic, because I didn’t feel like a hero … superheroes are supposed to save people, and I couldn’t do that.
“Simon,” Racheal moaned. I was too afraid to look, worried what I would see, so I focused on her face.
“Am I okay?”
“You’re okay, baby, you’re going to be okay.” I kept my voice calm. If there were a lie I wanted both of us to believe in, this would be the one.
“Somebody help!” I yelled out. She moaned again, and my eyes found hers. An urgency ran through me.
Keep her eyes open.
“Simon … it hurts.” Her eyes wanted to close.
“No, no, no, you got to stay awake, Racheal! Look at me, you have to stay with me.” My voice cracked, getting more desperate. “I will get you all fixed up … baby. I promise everything will be okay.” Fix you—something endearing my mom would say to me as a child when I would get a scratch, but this wasn’t a scratch, this wasn’t something I could fix … But God, I wanted to.
“Simon, I can’t see you.” There was panic in her voice; her eyes were wide open.
“Racheal, I’m here, I’m here, baby … God, I don’t know what to do … what do I do?” I looked up, and all I could see was a wall of legs.
“Racheal …” I cradled her in my arms.
“Simon … stand up, I can’t see you …” She was fading. The sirens were far in the distance, but Racheal was fading …
“Shit, baby, no, no, no, somebody help!”
<
br /> “Simon,” a soft voice called out, and I flinched at the touch. Her sweet fragrance brought me back from the other side. I looked down to find Mable standing in front of me.
“Simon, it’s not your fault,” she said, and I broke in two. “You didn’t cause it to happen; it was a freak accident … The car was hit by another van.”
Mable brought her hands to my face, leveling my eyes to hers. Now I could see why it was so easy to open up. Her nonjudgmental demeanor lowered my walls … allowing her in.
My arms went around her waist, pulling Mable closer. There was more to the story, but honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to dredge it all up from my mind and say it out loud. Maybe I wanted to spare Mable the full details, but after Racheal had died in my arms on the street where we lived, where we were supposed to build a future together, the paramedics finally arrived. But it was too late. Racheal had no chance. They did what they had to do, and then they were off, refusing to bring her to the hospital, leaving me to stand there on the streets with a couple of firemen and police officers, while my wife’s cold body waited under a sheet for hours for the morgue to pick up her remains. It was hellish. A hellish nightmare no one should go through.
“It’s all right, I’m here,” she whispered, and suddenly the world seemed smaller. We stood there, quietly staring into the darkness, speckles of lights scattered below and above us. With Mable still in my arms, I was reminded that I still had the capacity to connect with another human being, and it felt amazing. Why do I feel bothered by it? Will the guilt ever go away?
“I never told you this before, but that night we met was the anniversary of Racheal’s death. You seemed to give that day a new meaning. I’m glad you’re here, but at the same time, I’m afraid that you are.” I looked down.
“I’m not here trying to take your wife’s place. But you have to understand something. I believe Racheal loved you, and she wouldn’t want you to torture yourself the way you have. She would want you to remember the good times with no regrets, and that’s what’s worth holding on to.”
I leaned closer, wanting her to take the friction off my lips, and she welcomed it. At first our kisses were full of restraint and tenderness, but then they quickly evolved into hunger and yearning for something more. I hated that I wanted her in the way I did; maybe I shouldn’t have at that moment … But it felt right.
“Wait …” she said, out of breath, taking a step back and putting space between us. “I think we need to take a breather … literally.” She smiled. “I should go …” Mable pulled away farther, gazing into my confused eyes.
“Don’t go …”
“Yeah, it’s late …”
“Stay.”
She inhales deeply. “Please don’t ask me to. If I stay, it will only confuse things between us. I think you’re not entirely sure what I mean to you, and our emotions are running high … I don’t want this to be about a moment to lose ourselves, a quick fix … a way to dull the pain.” I saw the havoc in her eyes, causing chaos in my heart. “I don’t want to be your distraction, Simon. I want to be your reason.”
She was doing the right thing, putting a stop to something we might regret later. Because I know when we start nothing will stop us.
“Get some rest, and I’ll see you in the morning. You promised you would show me the city,” she said, and I brushed her hair away from her face.
“Of course.” I didn’t expect it to be simple, but I knew what we had was worth taking our time. “You’ll be by around nine?” I asked, watching her pick her handbag off the table.
“Make it ten-ish? A girl needs her beauty rest.” She gave me a side smile, then came back and kissed me on the cheek. My heart faltered.
“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, and I hate leaving you like this … but it’s for the best,” she whispered before she moved away from me, and I watched her go past the French doors. She didn’t look back, because if she had, she would have seen me with a clear focus. I was ready for what came next.
Almost.
Last night’s episode replayed a thousand times in my head as I lay in bed, allowing the morning light to claim the walls of my room. Mable’s words were affixed in my mind … I don’t need to think about what she means to me, I already know. I just wasn’t ready to say it out loud, because there was a vulnerability that came with the truth. To discover that the love of my life might not have been Racheal alone? Where did that leave Racheal’s legacy? Or Mable? After Racheal died, I had shut the door, so sure I locked it, but Mable had come in anyway. The pain would always be there, living within the walls of my heart until my last breath, but I didn’t feel tragic anymore. I felt hopeful.
If I had any doubts, they were all gone when I opened the door to find Mable standing in her beige fitted coat, her blue scarf nicely wrapped around her neck. She was a far cry from the girl I’d first met, but Mable Harper could never fool me. I knew her like I knew every beat of my heart. When she looked at me, she made me feel like there was only us in the world. I leaned on the door because I knew what was going to happen if I let her in. I should tell her, this is a mistake, that I don’t want it to go any further, but that would be a lie.
“G’day, mate,” she said, like a burst of sunshine.
I laughed. “That’s pretty cliché. I don’t know anyone who says that … Maybe a few do. But I think you’re cute, so I’ll let this one slide.” Why did everything look so different this morning? Like something had finally lifted off my shoulders. “You’re sure you want to come in?” I said, hoping that she had better judgment, the heart to turn me away.
“Let me in, Simon.” Her words were sharp, with enough power to allow the walls to come undone.
“I’ll put your stuff in the room,” I said, looking around. “Where’s your luggage?”
“I kept my room for the rest of the trip, if you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.” I was thinking that, after last night, she had had a change of heart, and my chest felt heavy. “What should we see first, the Eiffel Tower?”
“No.”
“The Louvre?”
“Nope,” she replied.
“Then where?”
“Can we go off the beaten path? I want to discover the city organically. Go wherever our feet lead us.” She smiled, playfully bouncing with each step she took toward me.
There was something very comfortable about Mable that I found interesting. I thought at first it had to be forced—she can’t always be this enthusiastic. But then, getting to know her, I had realized she was vivacious, not because she was trying to be fake—she was coping. Mable was a good reminder we could live with our mental suffering, that out of pain other things flourished: friendship and even love … As long as we were alive, we have the right to be happy. It was something I’d forgotten until this beautiful wonder came into my life.
“Sure, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” I beamed. “Just let me get my camera.”
“I can’t believe you don’t like chocolate.” Mable looked at me like I was an alien. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
She slid another morsel between her lips, and my eyes couldn’t help but linger there. I wanted to kiss her again, but I wasn’t sure if she wanted me to. After last night, I feel like we’re nowhere near where we should be.
“Yeah, nah—there are plenty of things wrong with me,” I said.
“Sure, you might be broken in a few places, but so is everybody. You need to find better glue,” Mable said, glowing under the sun.
It took a lot to let go and to be myself, the man I had long forgotten, the one I thought I’d long ago buried with Racheal; now I realized he was very much alive. I’d been doing things wrong, especially in those early days. I used alcohol, women, and even work to escape. Those were the only glues I thought to use, thinking it would miraculously put me back together, making my guilt disappear. I knew now I needed to do a better job. Needed to find the better glue to hold me together, and perhaps I might ha
ve found it in Mable.
She held out the paper bag I had purchased at the chocolatier.
“Sweets are not my thing.” I shook my head, realizing how persistent she could be.
“So why did you buy all these chocolates?”
“Because I know how grumpy you get when you don’t eat, and I need something to hold you over until lunch.” She snorted a laugh. “Besides, you’re so indecisive.”
“Pff—me? Indecisive? Well, I guess it takes one to know one.” She smiled. “Okay, open your mouth.” She slid her hand into the paper bag.
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to have at least one.”
“I told you—”
“But these are not your ordinary chocolates. Now open wide.” Mable said, pulling one out and shoving it into my mouth.
“Good, right?”
“Shit, does this have peanut butter in it?” I allowed the chocolate to melt in my mouth.
“I don’t know?” She looked confused. “Maybe.”
“I’m allergic to peanuts,” I said.
“Oh my God, what?”
When I saw the look on her face, I knew I had to take back my words. “I’m kidding. I’m just joking.”
“Why would you say that?” She shoved me hard and walked away. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Mable, I’m sorry.” She came back. “I was just messing with you,” I said with a laugh.
“Don’t talk to me. You’re a fucking asshole, Simon Rowe.”
Yeah, she might have been right. Mable was furious, and it only made me want her more. I bent down and picked up the bag of chocolates she had dropped and ran to catch up with her, but the look on her face said it all. I would have to beg for forgiveness …
Maybe macarons would help. Just maybe.
After supper, we walked along the canal. I took out my camera, capturing a few shots of Mable walking up the bridge ahead of me. The sun had gone down, and the night brought in the chill, but somehow we couldn’t be bothered by it, because our minds were somewhere else. I thought about tomorrow. We would leave this place and my time with Mable would end. I was gutted. When she got to the high point, she turned and stared, like a woman who longs to be embraced by a man.
Lyrical Lights Page 18
