by Meg Farrell
“Well, sweet girl, let me get a look at you.” She takes my hands as I step up on the porch. She spreads our arms wide and studies me for a minute. Then she reaches up and grabs my face firmly. Her smile is disconcerting. She stares directly into my eyes as she holds me still. She makes several “mmhmm” or “a-ha” sounds as she does. “Well, dear, what were you running from?”
“Who says it wasn’t a who?” I ask her. The conversation is taking some strange twists and turns, but as most elderly southern women have a streak of clairvoyance, I remain patient.
Irma smiles and says, “It was a who and a what. You got trouble girl. I can see it.”
“Ma’am? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Indecision is hanging over your head like an albatross. You better get to decidin’ before it lands on you and drags you under. Loneliness and unhappiness are the worst.”
She turns to Cade. “You are right to bring her to me. You stay here. Come with me, Rhae.” She turns to go inside the house and pulls me behind her.
“Ma’am? Where are we going? Why is Cade supposed to stay outside?” I give him a look that hopefully says help me. He gets the message but shakes his head silently.
“We have things to talk about. Cade don’t need ta hear.” She takes me to the back room of the house, past a closed door I assume contains Cade’s grandfather. Irma sits down at a small, round table in the middle of the sitting area.
“Sit,” she commands. I do as I’m told even though I can’t form a rational thought as to what this is about.
“Tell me your story.”
“My story?” I ask.
“Your story, child. Start talking.” She raises her eyebrows at me expectantly. “And don’t let go of my hands.” She reaches across the table and holds my hands, then nods.
At first, I don’t know where to start, so I start telling her I have two sisters. My mama has passed, but I still have my dad.
“No. Not a biography. Tell me your story, child.”
I nod and consider her request. Then I start talking and it spills from me like pouring water from a jug. I’m crying and sniffling. I’m laughing and smiling. I talk for what seems like forever. I finish with the dream I had of Ryan this morning.
When I finish, Irma is nodding, and her eyes are tearing up. “Your story with Ryan isn’t finished yet.”
“Yes, it is. He’s dead. If that doesn’t put finished on the story, I don’t know what does.”
“No. Who you become now is why the story isn’t finished. You have decisions to make. You don’t realize it, but they are decisions you are refusing to make. That’s why your spirit is uneasy. Ryan’s spirit senses this as well. This is why he visited your dream this morning. It will not be the last visit you have in a dream.”
“Why can’t he just rest and leave the damage he’s done behind? Leave me alone?” I ask, feeling fresh panic in my voice.
“He wronged you. He can’t rest until he makes it right somehow. There are other spirits that are concerned about your well-being. One in particular has been watching over you for quite some time. She’s worried. She paces your dreams and your father’s dreams.”
Panic runs through my brain as I try to think of a spirit that would worry about my dad and me. “Mama? Why would she worry?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she knew what was happening with Ryan.”
“What can I do? How do I put them at ease?”
“Honey, they will rest when you have peace. Maybe you need to disappear for a little while. Sort out your own mind before trying to move forward as if nothing happened. Do you have somewhere to go to do some thinking without interference from these spirits?”
Immediately, I think of Clea and Stephen in Florida. I nod.
“Okay, hon, you spend the night with Cade and set him at ease that you’ll be back. But our discussion here is between us. You sharing this with him will upset him. He will try to fix it for you. That’s just who he is. Understand me?”
“I’m not sure I understand anything you’ve told me. But my mother always told me there were people who could see through the veil. So, I’m trusting what you tell me because if anyone fit the bill my mother told me about, it’s you.”
“I’m praying for you, baby. You’ll find your way. You’ll find how to stand on your own, and when you do, you’ll have peace.”
Irma grabs me with her tiny frame into a monster of a hug. I feel new tears spring to my eyes as I hug her back. I’m not one for signs of affection with people I don’t know, but she feels like family. We emerge from the back room, arm in arm, and find Cade sitting in the living room. He pops up as we enter, and bolts over to us.
“Grandma! What did you say to her? She’s been crying!”
“I’m okay.” I try to soothe him. “She knew what I needed to know. Thank you for letting me meet your grandmother.”
“Cade, you know me better than that,” Irma admonishes him. “I would never hurt her. She needed my vision. Now, you two get going. I believe you have dinner with some of Rhae’s family tonight.”
I turned to her surprised. “How did you know...”
She winks at me. “I know lots of things. Now, go!”
a
Cade drives me home as I get on the phone to Jess, Red, Liz, Alana, and Marie. Yes, Marie. If part of my Mama’s worry is over the fuss with Marie and me, I need to sort it out. I ask all of them to bring something for dinner. Pot-lucking seems easiest tonight. I think about what Irma said, so I text Clea, “I miss you! Can I come visit?”
The evening is more fun than I thought it could be. The girls are taken with Cade. None of them can believe the secret I’ve been keeping from them. Of course, everyone bought my “friends only” explanation, except Liz. She saw right through it.
Liz and I are digging in the pantry for more sugar and tea bags when she proclaims, “You are such a liar! You know you want more from that boy than ‘friends!’” She air-quotes the word.
“Do you mind keeping it down? He’s in the next room, and it’s a small house,” I plead with her.
“I’ll keep it down if you admit his smile is panty-melting.”
“Fine. I admit it. The man is delicious, okay! Happy?” I snap at her.
“Perfectly,” she smirks, “Now, what are you doing inviting Marie here since you and she aren’t really speaking?”
I sigh. “I have to fix things.”
“You do. But I thought you said she would have to apologize first?” she asks.
“You know that is too close to right. Plus, I met a lady who sees things, she said Mama’s spirit is hovering because she’s worried about something. I think this thing with Marie and I has a lot to do with that.”
Liz nods her understanding. “So, you are going to apologize?”
“No. I’m going to tell Marie it’s water under the bridge, and no apologies are going to happen between either of us. Forgotten.”
“Then what?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but it’s a place to start.”
Liz and I rejoin the group, and Cade’s face flushes red when he sees me. Ugh. I think he heard Liz in the kitchen. I smile and shrug covertly. He raises his glass to me.
Jess runs over to hug me. Poor drunk heifer. I love on her for a second and listen to her ramble about Red and Marie. When she’s moved on to the next, “I love you, man,” I tap my glass to get everyone’s attention.
“Okay, bitches! Listen up!” I wait for everyone to quiet down. “I’m going on vacation. Yes, I know I had all that time off with...Ryan...but I’m going on vacation. I’m taking a leave from work. I may stay a week, I may stay a month. Who’s taking care of the house for me?”
It is deadly silent as everyone looks around the room. I notice only one face: Cade’s. He looks... angry?
“Anyone? Bueller? Hello?”
Jess raises her hand. “Yeah, honey, I got it. I’ll come over and air it out and get your mail once a week. Where are you going?
”
I smile. “Daytona Beach. I’m going to spend time with Clea and Stephen.”
Cade won’t even look at me now.
Slowly, everyone resumes their conversations, of which, I fear, is about me. I decide now is as good a time as any. I pull Marie aside for a discussion. She is satisfied with a forgotten approach to our tiff. It feels good to resolve at least one problem on my list.
Shortly after my vacation announcement, people start leaving. I hug necks and promise to call or text. Finally, Cade and I are left standing in the kitchen alone. I’m afraid to see the hurt or anger in his eyes.
Looking down at my hands. I take a deep breath and break the ice, “I’ll be back.”
“Yep,” he says softly.
I look up, “What? I’m going to see family.”
He shakes his head, “No. That’s fine. You can do that. We aren’t anything anyway. I just found out about this trip along with everyone else in your life. Nothing special.”
“Oh, please! Stop being such a girl. What does it matter anyway?”
His frustration is palpable when he snaps, “It matters to me. You matter to me.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “Promise you won’t stay gone for months. I don’t think I can handle that.”
His feelings surprise me. I take a minute before I respond, “I promise. I can call you and text you while I’m there.”
“There’s that. I still can’t believe you just up and decided to leave like that, though.”
I shrug, “I have to. I need some space and time.”
“Why? Can’t you figure out how to get through all of this here? With me?” He looks like he is on the edge.
“No, I can’t. I’ve been trying to do that for months now. It’s not getting better.”
“Okay.” He nods. “I understand. Please call. Every morning. Every night. All the time. I need to hear your voice.” He takes a few steps toward me and opens his arms for me.
I step into them and bury my face in his chest “Promise. Every morning and night. I’ll call you. But give me some space to figure things out. Okay?”
“Okay,” he answers before lifting my chin to kiss me.
His kiss is intense, and his arms slide around my body, one hand landing on my ass and the other twisting into my hair.
“Have I told you that I love your curls?”
I smile. “No, you haven’t, sir.”
“I do. I absolutely love how they look in the afternoon before our run. They are always wild and frame your face so that you look untamable. Then you always knot them into a bun on the top of your head, but not before one curl escapes. You always twirl it with your finger before tucking it behind your ear. I can’t keep my hands out of them when you fall asleep with your head in my lap.”
“Mmmm, that’s what makes me fall asleep. You start petting my hair and I’m helpless against the pull for sleep.”
“Good to know.” He kisses me again and then pulls me toward my bedroom.
I dig my heels in the floor as we approach the doorway. “Cade. We can’t.” All of the evening’s revelations, proclamations and promises have me questioning his motives.”
“Trust me.” I’m not sure he’s saying it as a statement or a question. “Trust me,” he says again, when he notices the panic on my face. I realize that the answer is yes, I do trust him.
I nod, and he continues to lead me into the room. He picks up my pajamas, which I haphazardly threw on the bed this morning. “Get dressed for bed.”
I go to the bathroom to change, and when I return, Cade is settled into the bed, flipping channels on the TV.
“Make yourself at home, then,” I say sarcastically.
“Thanks, I will.” He flips the covers on my side of the bed back and pats the mattress. “Come to bed, Rhae.”
I consider what he wants, and then head over and crawl in bed next to him, giving him a kiss before settling on my side to sleep. Cade slides down to match my position as he spoons up to my back and lays his arm over my waist.
He kisses my cheek. “Sweet dreams, my sweet Rhae. I’ll keep the dreams away tonight.”
And he does.
Vacation
I bask in the warm sun and cool breeze. It’s pretty early, so I’m at the beach on my own. Clea had to work for a little while this morning. She took off after our workout, and I came out here. I’ve been doing this pretty much every day, with and without Clea. We talk most of the time we’re together. When I’m alone, I read. Cade texts me every day. Many times a day. He seems to miss me terribly. I know I miss him. Most texts are about us and how I’m doing, and then others are about his grandparents. Irma is in a panic. She believes the time for her husband’s death is close.
These days, when my mind drifts, I think of that night before I left. For the first time, he didn’t leave. He held me all night. Even when I was sweating from the body heat, I stayed as still as possible. Sleeping with him as was peaceful as promised. I didn’t dream of Ryan again. I didn’t really dream at all.
The next morning, I explained more about who Clea was and where I would be. I didn’t look at Cade while I was talking. I was too afraid of seeing anger, hurt or frustration. I didn’t know how he would take it that I would want to hang out with friends and family that tied me to Ryan. When I finished my rambling explanation of guilt, Cade said, “Go. You need this.”
He wraps his arms around me and squeezes me into a hug, which we hold for much longer than necessary, neither of us willing to let go. Resting my face against his chest, I let the beat of his heart pound its way into my memory. I would need his warmth, and to have that engrained in my head while I am away. After a few moments, I pull back to look into his eyes and see if he has any doubts about letting me go. He can tell I have anxiety about leaving.
“Hey, I’ll be here when you’re ready. You’re beyond stressed with all that’s going on; although, you fight to hide it. I see right through you. And, for the record, you have nothing to feel guilty about. They don’t have to leave your life because your husband died.” He smiles at me and the warm feeling in my heart spreads to other parts of my body. I groan because it’s still too soon for us to become anything else.
“You’re doing it again,” I observe.
“What?” He looks puzzled.
“That dangerous smile. It’s like your thing. You know you can get whatever you want with that smile, don’t you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t gotten everything I want.” He smirks.
“And what would that be, sir?”
“You.”
I have no idea how to answer that. His statement stuns me silent for a few minutes. He takes advantage of it and swoops in for a kiss. He kisses me stupid and then says, “Hey, I know you aren’t ready for much more right now. I’m letting you know that when you are ready, I’m ready, too. Okay?”
“Okay.” I sigh. “Thank you for understanding. You’ll text and call me, right?”
“Yes.”
The next morning, I left for Daytona Beach.
Remembering where I am, I stare out over the ocean. This is the most peaceful place on the planet. No one to ask me questions. No one making assumptions. Being here is the closest thing to happiness I have had since Ryan died. I feel like I haven’t ever been happy. Not until I got to this beach. I do miss Cade, though.
My time here is pretty low-key. Clea, Stephen, and I usually have dinner then drink wine and watch movies at night. Occasionally we replace our wine with ice cream. Out of guilt for our indulgences, we get up and hit the elliptical machines at six a.m. in the gym provided by their homeowner’s association.
Clea pushes me to be better. She loves working out, and when I have her to motivate me, I love it, too. I think the squishy middle I hate is starting to change into a nicer shape. Originally, I thought I would stay a week, but I decide to stay a second week because I really don’t want to go home. Just thinking about going back to that house and that job makes me want to sink below the w
aves of the ocean and never come out.
I heave a sigh and decide I’d like to get in the water for a little bit. I wade out into the ocean and bounce as the waves wash over me. I dip beneath the surface several times to get my hair wet. I love how the ocean feels, but hate getting saltwater in my nose. Unfailingly, I inhale saltwater. I should be better at this by now. Clea swears she’ll get me surfing or boogie-boarding before long. I think she’s crazily optimistic.
As I bob in the water, I wonder what it would be like to float on the waves like I do in a pool. I float and see where the waves and currents take me. Would I float away into the ocean? Would the waves keep pressing me back to the beach against my will? If I did float out away from land, would I fight it? Surely some type of survival instinct would take over and I would involuntarily swim in. Or would I? What if I died in this ocean today? I think my sisters would miss me, but would I be one less burden in their world? I think so.
I spend a good deal of time letting the thoughts swirl through my mind while I bob in a little over chest-high in the water. I do think about my dad and my friends, too. I recall what Jess said when I was staying at her house after the visitation. They all stayed with me because they thought I was suicidal. Jess said she didn’t think I could live without Ryan. That I didn’t know how to live without him. Maybe I don’t. Seems like dying would be easier than all the struggles of life. Maybe that’s what Irma saw in my eyes.
When I start feeling waterlogged and drawn with the salt on my skin, I make my way back to my lounge chair and umbrella. I dry my hands and body, comb through my tangled hair and lie back on the lounger again. I pick up my book and read until I fall asleep. It isn’t long until my phone is ringing. I look and see that Jess is calling, again.
“Hey.”
“Hey? Really? Okay, well, I got your mail and made sure nothing was broken into at your house. You’re welcome. When do you think you’re coming home?” Oh, she is in a peachy mood.
“Thank you. I don’t know.”
“Why does it sound like that is the saddest thing you have ever had to consider? Don’t you miss us? Dad?”
“Jess, please, of course I miss you guys. I don’t want to be home anymore. I’m all alone. Everything about the house reminds me of Ryan. As soon as I step in the front door, it’s like I’ve lost him and learned about his affair all over again.” I take a deep breath and think of how I can make her understand this. “Imagine re-living the worst moments of your life every single day. I experience it every time I make dinner, every time I take a shower, and worse, every time I get in the bed we shared.”
