“Hear me out, and then you can decide.”
She nodded.
“Every time I talked about you to my counsellor, every time I explained to her what an ass I’d been, every time I’d convinced myself that you were better off without me, that longing around my heart just seemed to squeeze harder and harder, like it was trying to push my heart through my ribcage. Giving up without trying, without finding out how you really felt or what you wanted to do, it just didn’t feel right. I didn’t want to give up without giving it one last chance.” He took a couple of deep breaths. “I made you a promise once, and if you’ll let me, I’d like to keep it. Please, let me make it up to you. Let me take care of you. You mean the world to me.”
* * *
Lori-Anne’s hands were busy picking at the bagel, crumbs covered her napkin and spilled onto the table. She could tell Mathieu was trying, she saw glimpses of the man she’d fallen in love with, but she wasn’t sure if she had the time or the energy to let him back into her life right now. For once she was thinking of herself, of the battle coming, and fixing her marriage, unfortunately, wasn’t a priority. Maybe, if all went well, they could try later. She should tell him, because if she didn’t, he’d think it was over, but the words wouldn’t come.
And she was still afraid to let him back into her heart.
Could she? Would she? When she thought back to the loving and caring man she knew, the answer was easy. But there was that morsel of doubt now, a side of him she hoped never to see again.
“There’s something I never told you about the night of the accident.”
Mathieu sat a little straighter. “You don’t have to.”
“I need to,” she said. “Maybe if I had when it happened, things might have gone differently. We both know Nadia was going through a tough phase, now that we know she had a crush on a boy explains a lot. Love makes fools of us all.”
Mathieu said nothing.
“When I’d finally had enough of her not listening to me the night of the accident, I reached over and—” Lori-Anne tried to swallow. Nadia’s last words dried out her throat. “When I finally snatched her phone away, she said to me, in this cold and hateful tone . . . I hate you mom.”
Mathieu reached across the table for her hand and she gave it to him. She felt his thumb caress the skin between her thumb and index finger, like he did when they first started dating and they’d walk hand in hand. Like back then, she didn’t think he was aware he was doing it and like back then, she was sure he had no clue how his touch ignited these little flutters inside her soul.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You’ve kept this all this time? Maybe I could—”
“No, you wouldn’t have.”
He hung his head low. “You’re probably right. Not the way things were. I’m sorry you had to live with that so long. I’m sure she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. She was just mad. She often said stupid things, just to get to us.”
“I know,” she said and pulled her hand away. “But those are her last words. Her last words to me. To me.”
“She loved you.”
“I know.”
“She was just upset.”
“I keep telling myself that.”
“You did your best.”
“Didn’t always feel like it.” She grabbed the bagel and tore the rest apart. “If only I could have gotten one more try, you know, to get it right.”
“Not sure that was possible. We didn’t do much of anything right in her eyes the last few months.”
“Yeah,” she said and glared at the bagel crumbs. “Do you understand why I couldn’t go into her room?”
He nodded. “I might have done the same.”
Panic, burning acidic panic, rose in her diaphragm. “I didn’t want her to be gone any more than you did, because I wanted her to come out of her room and tell me she hadn’t meant it, that she loved me. I needed you to tell me it wasn’t my fault, that you loved me.”
“But she couldn’t and I didn’t.”
“I needed both of you and had neither.” Months of solitude and denial finally let go, black mascara streaking down her cheeks. “I was mad at both of you. I needed both of you. I loved both of you.”
“And I failed you,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I know these words mean little after all that’s happened, but if it’s not too late, I’d really like to be there for you now, I want to be there for you.”
Lori-Anne had wanted to hear those words so much and now that she had, they fell flat, like unwrapping a gift and finding out it wasn’t the diamond ring you were expecting but just some cheap imitation.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” she said. “Like you feel obligated.”
“I know I hurt you and I’m ashamed of it. I don’t think I can ever make up for that time. But trust me, I want to be there for you now because I want a life with you, because you’re my wife, because I really love you.”
“It might be too late.”
“I don’t think it is, please let me—”
“No, it’s not that. Today I found out—” She looked away, a hand covering her mouth. She closed her eyes. Shook her head and then stared at her husband. “Mathieu, I have cancer.”
* * *
Mathieu felt his hands turn cold and the coffee on his tongue tasted like metal. The sounds around him were suddenly gone, his vision became blurry, and everything smelled like disinfectant.
“You have cancer? No, it can’t be. You’re sure?”
She nodded. “Yes. I saw my doctor this morning.”
“This morning,” he said. “I should have been with you. You could have called me. I would have come.”
Lori-Anne played with the bagel crumbs, grinding them to nothing. “We haven’t spoken in months. You asked for a divorce.”
Mathieu nodded, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m . . . sorry. I was so obsessed with keeping Nadia alive in my mind . . . I screwed up. That’s what today was about for me, to let you know how sorry I am for hurting you, and to ask forgiveness. But—”
“I kind of put a damper on that.”
“You have cancer. It’s not about me or my needs. It’s about taking care of you. What did your doctor tell you? What are they going to do?”
“He said we caught it early.”
“That’s good, right?”
“Yes, chances are good that we can beat it.”
“How did you find out? I mean—”
“I felt a lump in my breast a few weeks back.”
“So it’s breast cancer?”
She nodded. “The left one.”
“Are they going to remove it? Is that what they do?”
“They can do a mastectomy,” she said, “or I can have the tumor removed and the breast reconstructed.”
“Really?” he said. “They can do that?”
“Women get boob jobs all the time,” she said, trying to make light of it. “It’s probably no big deal for a good plastic surgeon.”
“I never thought of it that way,” he said. “So it’s just in your breast?”
“For now.”
“What do you mean?”
“The longer we wait, the higher the chances are that it can spread. We have to move quickly. I need to decide soon which procedure I want.”
“You can’t do this alone.”
“I know.”
“I want to take care of you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure.”
Lori-Anne met his eyes. “It won’t be easy. I . . . I could die. Can you handle that possibility? I can’t let you back into my heart if you’re not—”
“I won’t let you down. I will be there, no matter what happens. I have faith that we’ll pull through this, together.”
“But what if I don’t pull through?”
“You have to have faith that you will.”
“So much has happened.”
“I’ll have faith for both of us then. Until you can.”
Lori-Anne pressed her lips together, and then smiled a tired smile. “Is my Mathieu back? I’d really like him to be.”
“Please, I want you to come home.” He took her hands. “Our home where you belong.”
Mathieu helped Lori-Anne to her feet and put on her coat. He’d almost lost her once, he wasn’t losing her again. She needed him and he was going to be there for her, no matter how difficult it got. He’d made progress over the last few months, things he hadn’t believed in, therapy, medication, religion, were slowly changing him. He had a lot going for him, a lot of people looking out for him, and he was going to use their strength and their love to care for the one person that meant the most to him.
Lori-Anne Delacroix.
He had fallen in love with her the moment he’d seen her all those years ago, and seeing her today and being with her made him realize that he had never stopped loving her, he’d just sort of gotten a little lost.
He looked at her and she kissed his cheek.
“Thank you.”
“I should be thanking you for giving me this chance,” he said. “Now, let’s go home and beat this thing.”
They started to walk away, Lori-Anne holding on to Mathieu, and all he could think of was that he wanted to grow old with her, he wanted to watch her get wrinkled and grey, he wanted to hear her complain about all her aches and pains, he wanted to hear her breathing as she slept beside him, he wanted to be reminded everyday how damn lucky he was. This beautiful, wonderful woman was his wife and he loved her and their journey together wasn’t done yet.
The best part was just beginning.
TWENTY-SEVEN
March 26, 2013
2:01 p.m.
Lori-Anne and Mathieu sat in the car, holding hands. A bouquet of flowers lay across her lap. She turned to him, and smiled.
“You okay?” he said.
“I can do this.”
No one else was around. It was a weekday and people were at work. Mathieu stepped out of the car and Lori-Anne waited until he came around to the passenger side to help her out. She wore one of his Ottawa Senators’ toques over her hairless head. Now that the chemo was over, she hoped her hair would start to grow back. The bald look wasn’t really for her.
The day was overcast and the north wind had some winter bite left in it. A few birds chirped in the distance, the ones that had returned early to welcome back the new season. Spring, a time of renewed hope and possibilities. This year, it was truer than ever.
So much had happened over the last few months. She’d decided to have breast-conserving surgery and breast reconstruction done at the same time. The procedures happened on December 14, and chemo started a week later. Her last treatment was on March 15 and the radiation had started yesterday. Dr Galloway told her things looked really good.
Lori-Anne had been able to lean on Mathieu through the entire process. At night when she couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time, he cleaned up the mess she made. He held her when she needed it, and made her laugh when she couldn’t take another day of feeling like a train wreck. He loved her the way she remembered, and she’d drawn strength from his love. Just his presence was often enough to help her find that ounce of fight she didn’t think she had. Lori-Anne felt he was a big reason for how well things were going.
That, and Nadia. Not a day went by that Lori-Anne didn’t say a little prayer to her daughter.
They’d also found out that Samuel was in the early stages of dementia, the news draining Lori-Anne and making her regret cutting him out of her life. Her father wasn’t as indestructible as she believed him to be. No one was. She’d lost enough this past year, and forgiving him was easier than staying angry with him.
“Ready?” Mathieu said.
Lori-Anne felt weak and nauseous, but there was no way she wasn’t coming today. It was too important. She grabbed Mathieu’s arm and they walked through the ankle-deep snow to Nadia’s grave.
“How are you doing?” Mathieu said. “Tired?”
“A little.”
“We won’t be long.”
“I’ll be fine.” A beam of sunshine sliced through the dispersing clouds. “Feels like someone reaching out to us from heaven.”
“Small miracles.”
She turned to him. “Have I told you I love you?”
“That’s a miracle in itself,” he said, “one that I’ll never take for granted again. I love you too.”
Lori-Anne rested her head on Mathieu’s shoulder, and they stood in front of Nadia’s grave for a few minutes, saying nothing.
* * *
Mathieu bent down on one knee to put the flowers in front of Nadia’s headstone, and then took his place beside Lori-Anne again.
More sun broke through the steel grey clouds and reflected off the snow, making him squint. Spring, or maybe someone, was trying hard to show its presence. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to come after this life. He liked the idea of reuniting with the people he cherished.
“We miss you, honey,” he said. “But we’re doing okay, your mom and I.” He paused. “Do keep an eye on Mom. She could use your help to get better.”
He felt a very light squeeze on his arm.
“Even though you’re gone,” he said, “you’ve made our lives better. The hurt we felt losing you, well, that’s because of how much we love you. Maybe we didn’t always show it or say it, but you meant the world to us. You are our proudest moment.”
Mathieu heard Lori-Anne’s breath catch.
“You okay?”
“I miss her,” she said. “If only—”
Mathieu put a finger on her lips. “We promised we wouldn’t go there ever again.”
“I know, but—”
“No buts,” he said. “We had a beautiful daughter who was the best thing to happen to us. She’s gone only in body. In our memories and in our hearts, she will live with us forever.”
Lori-Anne nodded.
“Good,” he said. “We have each other. I’m not letting you go. I’ll always be there for you.”
“I know,” she said. “You’ve been my strength.”
“Actually, you’ve been my strength,” he said. “I owe everything I am to you. And Nadia.”
Lori-Anne reached up and kissed his cheek.
“Our baby girl is in good hands,” he said, looking over the family plot. “We shouldn’t worry about her.”
“She is with loved ones,” Lori-Anne said.
Mathieu put his arm around Lori-Anne. A year had passed since that horrible day. For a while he didn’t think he’d be able to go on. Maybe that’s what this past year taught him. When he was truly tested, he found out who he was and what mattered. When he really needed to, he found his love, his faith, and his will to survive.
And like his grandfather had said, if you share your life with that special person, it’s all worth it.
If nothing else, the past year reminded him that Lori-Anne is worth it.
In his wife’s eyes, he saw a sadness that he shared and understood, and if he could, he would take her pain away so she could find peace. Wasn’t that what truly loving someone was all about? Putting them before you?
“We’ll be fine,” he said. “I promise.”
Mathieu led Lori-Anne back to the car and helped her climb in. He turned and looked toward his family, the space around his broken heart finally feeling like it was becoming whole again.
He got in the car, kissed Lori-Anne on the lips, and took his wife home. * * *
More stories by Francois Houle are waiting to be discovered. Grab your copy of Beautiful Midnight now.
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Story behind It Happened to Us
I wrote It Happened to Us in 2009-2010 after my father passed away. This was the third novel I’d written over three years and I felt it was the most complete. Yet, I sat on it because the traditional publishing route had proved impossible in my previous attempts, but something new was also happening in the world of publishing: ebooks were starting to get noticed. I set out to learn all I could about this new possibility, and the learning curve was steep.
In January 2015, after several rewrites and editing, It Happened to Us was published.
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Excerpt from Beautiful Midnight
ONE
~ September 2001 ~
I should have been dead long ago.
Midnight Madison looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, her wet body, skeleton-scrawny and lacking curves, dripped on the cold, cream-coloured ceramic tiles. She noticed a pimple on her forehead and sighed. Seemed she couldn’t keep up with them lately and frankly she didn’t care. Her short brown hair, which was almost dry, wouldn’t help her hide this small blemish. Everyone at school would notice. Again, she didn’t really care. It really didn’t matter. Maybe once it would have, but lately it seemed like these things so many kids her age stressed about meant so little to her. Even her hair. It had been long most of her life, but last year she’d decided it was time for a change and cut it. A move her friend Samantha had questioned.
I was tired of taking care of it, she’d told Samantha.
It Happened to Us Page 17
