A Love for Rebecca

by Uceda, Mayte

  They stopped talking, Berta trying not to laugh, and Rebecca realized they were staring at her. “What?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” Lola said pointedly. “You look like you’re somewhere else.”

  The doorbell rang. They exchanged questioning looks and checked the clock. They couldn’t imagine who it could be, as Mrs. Munro never visited this late. Berta went to the door and returned a few moments later with a piece of paper in her hand.

  “Who was it?” Lola asked.

  “No one. I mean no one was there, but someone left this note under the door.” They craned their necks to see. “Your name is on it, Rebecca.”

  “My name?”

  Berta handed the folded piece of paper to Rebecca, who opened it and read silently.

  Her face lit up like a light.

  “What does it say? Read it out loud. You’re killing us,” Lola said.

  Rebecca bit her lip and hesitated. She refolded the paper and remained silent.

  “Are you going to tell us or not?” Lola pressed.

  Rebecca reluctantly held out the note. Berta took it from her. “ ‘Come with me, mo leannan, and I will show you where the fireflies dance at night.’ ”

  “It’s from Kenzie?” Lola asked, snatching the paper from Berta’s hands and scanning it. “He’s coming for you at seven tomorrow morning?”

  “I don’t know!” Rebecca snapped.

  “Where does he want to take you?” asked Berta.

  “Skye.”

  “If you’re going on a day trip, we can go too.” Lola perked up. “They say it’s a beautiful island.”

  Berta tilted her head and narrowed her eyes accusingly. “Like you took us along to Nairn?”

  “What happened last night in the forest?” Lola asked abruptly, turning back to Rebecca. “You haven’t told us anything, and Berta says you didn’t get back until dawn.”

  Rebecca’s embarrassment gave her away.

  “Oh, my God!” Berta murmured.

  “Oh, my God, what?” Lola’s frenzied brain took a moment to catch on. Her eyes widened. “You didn’t?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I can’t believe it! You did it with him?” Lola said in astonishment.

  “It’s none of your business!”

  “You did!” She burst out laughing. “Our little nun! She screwed the hottie Scottie before walking down the aisle with Mario!”

  Rebecca flushed with rage.

  Berta tried to calm them down. “That’s enough, Lola. You’re really pushing it.”

  Still amazed, Lola blathered on. “I would have done the same thing,” she said. “I mean, if Mario were my fiancé, heaven forbid . . . I mean, who could resist Kenzie?”

  “Lola, you’re such an idiot!” Rebecca said, and went inside to the refuge of her room.

  “What the hell does ‘mo leannan’ mean?” Lola wondered, stumbling over the pronunciation. “I bet it’s something dirty.”

  Rebecca refused to talk about it anymore, not even with Berta, who went to be with her in case she needed someone to listen. She fell asleep immediately, worn out from the stress of the day.

  In the parlor, her friends speculated about what had happened. Lola believed the innocent Rebecca had been seduced, which she found to be totally understandable. She considered Rebecca’s love life hopelessly repressed. Who could blame her for spreading her wings a little before marriage, especially with a hunk like Kenzie?

  Lola wasn’t looking to assign blame. What bothered her, though, was the big deal Rebecca was making of it. Lola thought it was obviously just a fling. Better to have one now than five years into her marriage. According to Lola, extramarital affairs were exactly what happened to goodie-goodies like Rebecca. Sooner or later they wondered what it would be like to be with someone else.

  Berta, however, suspected Kenzie was more than a fling for Rebecca, possibly much more. She knew her friend and knew she wasn’t boy crazy. For whatever reason, fate had granted Rebecca the extraordinary experience of falling utterly, passionately in love. Cupid’s arrow had found its mark, for better or for worse. Which it would be, Berta wasn’t sure.

  FIREFLIES AT NIGHT

  A hint of daylight was beginning to filter through the windows when Berta was awakened by activity in the bedroom. She reached out to the night table to check her phone. Five minutes before seven. She jerked awake when she realized Rebecca was hurriedly stuffing clothes into her backpack.

  “What are you doing?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going with him.”

  Rebecca nodded.

  “Are you crazy?”

  “I have to go, Berta.”

  “No, you do not have to go!”

  “My heart tells me I do. I have to go or I’ll always regret it.”

  “You could end up regretting it a lot more if you go!”

  “Better to regret something you’ve done than spend your life wishing you had.”

  The sound of an engine interrupted them. They listened carefully, trying to decide whether the vehicle had stopped or driven by.

  “It didn’t stop,” Berta declared.

  “Yes, it did.”

  “I don’t think so.

  “I think it did, Berta. But I’m too nervous to look.”

  With a huff, Berta strode out of the room. She returned a moment later, upset. “It’s him!”

  “Oh, God!” Rebecca grabbed a few more articles of clothing and stuffed them in the backpack.

  “Rebecca, please!”

  “I have to hurry. Would you get my toiletry bag from the bathroom?”

  “No! I won’t help you with this! Maybe what you’re feeling is all very nice, very thrilling, and very whatever else you want to call it, but think about Mario. Think about your mother. Hell, think about the Virgin Mary if you have to!”

  “Don’t bring the Virgin into this.”

  Berta had run out of arguments and fell silent. Rebecca went over and took Berta’s hands in hers.

  “I have to; don’t you understand? I’m afraid of leaving here and never feeling again what I feel when I’m with him.”

  They heard an engine revving, a sign of impatience. “He’s going to leave!” Rebecca said. “Please, help me!”

  Berta huffed again but ran to the bathroom and gathered Rebecca’s things. Back in the bedroom, she saw her friend pulling a dress over her head. It was the quickest thing at hand. Rebecca put on a short jacket and flats, crammed her toiletries in her backpack, and flew out of the bedroom.

  A sleepy Lola peeked out of her room. “What are you two doing? You’re like two magpies in heat.”

  “She’s leaving,” Berta informed her.

  Rebecca turned and hugged Berta. “Thank you. I’m sorry to leave you here alone.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ve got Sophie and Lola and her lover boy. I’ll be fine. But do me a favor. Take care of yourself.”

  “I will,” Rebecca said, and she was gone.

  Berta and Lola went outside in time to see Kenzie’s truck pulling away.

  “This will ruin her life. I shouldn’t have let her go,” Berta said.

  “You couldn’t stop her.”

  “I know, but I should have tried harder.”

  “I’m happy for her. No one should live her whole life without feeling what she’s feeling right now. And it’s something Mario can never give her.”

  The blue pickup headed south, into the soft glow rising on a new day, a new beginning. Rebecca was at peace. For once she was in control of her fate. For better or worse, it was her decision. She had decided to live. She knew she’d made the right choice; her body told her so when Kenzie looked at her, when he smiled at her. She imagined beginning a life at his s
ide, far from all the conventions she was used to. She surrendered to the sweetness of such thoughts and made a pact with her own common sense to keep quiet and not raise any red flags that might ruin these most significant moments of her life.

  The two of them were alone, winding along a narrow highway, past lochs with unpronounceable names and a countryside illuminated by the sun and shadowed by the clouds. Lulled by the melodious sound of “Bonny Portmore” on the radio, they held hands, enchanted by the haunting soprano voice. It was the beginning of a beautiful summer day.

  Kenzie kept every one of his promises. He showed her the Black Cuillin—the mountain range on Skye—at dawn; the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks; the puffins in flight over the cliffs. Rebecca lived out her dream next to him, amid promises of love and yearnings for a future together. But he had one promise to fulfill still. Rebecca had forgotten, but Kenzie never forgot a promise.

  One night toward the end of that magical week, Kenzie surprised her and dressed in traditional Highland attire. The clothing seemed very old, the once-white shirt faded and camphor-scented. His kilt was in the same state, its colors old and faded. Rebecca noticed that Kenzie still seemed a little preoccupied. He had been since the day before. He’d been gone for hours under the pretext of visiting an old friend and returned with an expression she couldn’t decipher. She attributed it to the fact that their time together was coming to an end. She, too, sensed herself becoming contemplative, a bit pensive, about the bittersweet nature of their circumstances. She was still here with him, could see and touch him, yet the shadow of good-bye was hovering over them.

  “These were my grandfather’s clothes,” he told her. “A little small on me, but it will do.”

  “Do for what?”

  “Wait here a minute.”

  She watched him stride out of the house, his kilt flapping. His clothing may be old and smelling of camphor, she reflected, but the man is so very attractive—and made all the more so by an obliviousness to his appearance and a rare absence of vanity.

  A few minutes later he came back carrying a wide, flat box. “I’d like you to put this on. It’s the only one I could find. I think it’s your size.”

  She took the box and opened it; inside was a dress. It was made of a soft, cream-colored velvet. She set the box on the table and pulled it out. As she unfolded the material, she could see that it was adorned with delicate golden designs. The luster of the velvet dazzled her. She touched the silkiness to her cheek.

  “Are we going to a party?”

  “Better. Tonight there’s a Celtic wedding in the forest.”

  Rebecca jumped for joy and ran to change. She thought the dress was even more beautiful than the one she’d worn to the festival. It was a little tight over the chest, but not uncomfortable. When he saw her emerge, she saw the emotion on his face.

  “Will you help me with the back?” she asked, turning around.

  He parted her hair and kissed the back of her neck, then calmly buttoned up the dress.

  “You’re beautiful.”

  She knew he meant it. She saw it in his eyes when he spun her around to admire her. But there was something more to his look, something undisclosed. She was about to ask about it when he kissed her. He barely brushed her lips, and when she attempted a more intimate kiss, he stopped her with two fingers over her mouth.

  “Not now,” he said. And he kissed the tip of her nose.

  They drove several miles to a flat, elevated area, where Kenzie parked his pickup. It was dark, but in the distance Rebecca saw a multitude of suspended lights.

  Her face lit up. He smiled and said, “They’re lanterns marking the way to the ceremony.”

  She peered into the darkness and discovered they weren’t alone; she could sense others moving toward the lights. It wasn’t a large crowd, but more people than she had imagined. She looked closer and saw that everyone was similarly dressed, the men in Scottish tartan and women in long medieval dresses. She took Kenzie’s arm and, touching it, felt his rock-hard muscles. She tried to find the cause of the tension in his face, but it was too dark to see. She lifted her skirt with her other hand to avoid stepping on it, and they entered the forest, following the lighted path that lent a magical aura to the wondrous scene. She was floating in a dream, euphoric. She knew she would remember this night forever. She wanted to take in every detail as she breathed in the deep, fresh scent of the woods.

  Soon, they arrived at a clearing where a congregation had gathered around a circle of stones, branches, and flowers. In the middle was a large, flat rock.

  “How thrilling!” Rebecca said in a hushed tone.

  Kenzie looked at her intensely. “It is.”

  “Where are the bride and groom? And the druid?”

  “You’ll see in a bit. He always walks, even though he’s very old. But he doesn’t live far from the forest, so it won’t be long.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Yes, I was with him yesterday.”

  “That’s how you knew about the wedding?”

  He nodded.

  “Were you with him the whole time?”

  He nodded again. “When I was little, I spent a lot of time at his house.”

  “Really?”

  “One day he found me sleeping in his stable. After that, I went back frequently. I liked his company, because he only spoke when he had something to say. I learned a lot from him: the appreciation of nature and the understanding of what’s important. I never missed a wedding he celebrated.” He pointed to a nearby tree. “I would climb up into the branches of that tree so I could see better, and I would always tell myself that if one day I found the right woman, he would be the one to unite us. According to the Celts, two souls unite so their strengths and qualities are doubled. And through mutual support and learning, they make up for what is missing or defective in just one.”

  “Sometimes I feel I’ve known you a whole lifetime,” Rebecca said. Kenzie took her hand and squeezed it.

  An elderly man appeared among the people, greeting them with a brief nod as he entered the circle. Rebecca noted his snow-white hair and beard. He looked very old. He wore a worn white robe, and as he walked, he covered his head with a white, folded scarf that hung over each of his shoulders and down to his waist. The old man’s appearance struck Rebecca as similar to that of any holy man officiating at a religious ceremony. The druid began to speak as he moved through the circle.

  “What’s he saying?” she asked.

  “He’s blessing and consecrating the circle, a symbol of eternity.”

  “I’ll bet you know the ceremony by heart.”

  “I do,” he said, and looked at her without expression.

  The druid approached a woman in a pretty blue velvet dress, and she offered him two beautiful crowns, one made of leaves, the other of flowers. With the adornments in his hands, he crossed the circle and approached Kenzie and Rebecca. Kenzie bent down so the old man could place the garland on his head. The druid squeezed the arms of the young man affectionately. Rebecca watched, fascinated. From up close, the old druid had the most serene face she’d ever seen. She turned her gaze to Kenzie, who signaled her to lower her head. With the circlet of white flowers now adorning Rebecca’s black hair, the druid returned to his place inside the circle and resumed speaking the unfathomable tongue.

  Kenzie looked at her and spoke with great intensity. “Rebecca, I know I don’t have much to offer you, only my body to love you and my hands to work.”

  “Kenzie . . .”

  “Maybe I can’t give you everything you deserve, but as long as you are with me, I promise I will never stop loving you. I love you, Rebecca, and I want to marry you.”

  Rebecca’s eyes shone in the darkness. “Oh, Kenzie,” she whispered, catching her breath. “And then what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She to
ok a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Really, she had no doubts. She would’ve done anything he asked. She was absolutely, profoundly in love with this man. For him she would walk over live coals—anything he asked of her.

  “Yes,” she said, her heart pounding. “I want to marry you.”

  He offered her his arm. “Let nature be a witness to our love, that’s all. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

  Rebecca entered the circle, holding his arm and feeling the comforting warmth of his skin under his shirt. They stood in front of the druid.

  The ceremony commenced. The elder spoke in English with a strange accent. Rebecca floated in the middle of a fantasy scene of glowing lanterns and candles in a dark and damp forest clearing. Kenzie’s touch was the only thing that broke through the feeling of unreality. Initially, her nerves prevented her from appreciating the beauty of the ceremony. She barely heard or thought anything, allowing herself to be carried along like a paper boat on a stream. But then something changed inside her. She studied Kenzie’s profile and found what she was looking for as his eyes turned to meet hers. He laid his hand on hers, a hint of the handfasting that would unite them forever. She entered into the ceremony with full consciousness and all doubts erased, a once-in-a-lifetime clairvoyance illuminating her future.

  The elderly man moved across the circle until he was in front of a rock smaller than the one in the center. Kenzie led Rebecca to the rock, and the old man raised his arms.

  “Spirits of the east, spirits of the air: let us feel your breath! Through times of uncertainty, through winds of change, will you still love and honor each other?”

  “I will,” Kenzie vowed, and squeezed Rebecca’s hands so she would repeat the words.

  “I will.”

  “Then may you be blessed by the powers of the east. May together you find freedom of flight in the clear mountain air; may your marriage be reborn with each new dawn.”

  The druid moved again until he reached the next position, indicated by a similar rock. Kenzie and Rebecca joined him there.