Setting her purse on the counter, she removed the two books that she had brought with her for their honeymoon—Pride and Prejudice and Shakespeare’s Sonnets—and replaced them on the bookshelf. Walking back to the bedroom, she stepped into their closet. Should she pack up everything now? Would it be more painful for him or less? Someday, he might want another woman. Her heart lurched in pain, and she held on to the doorway waiting for the waves of grief to settle. She decided that she didn’t want him to be one of those people who held on to the clothes of someone who was no longer there. She would remove all of her personal items, so that he could move on. Though she held on to the doorframe, this time the wave wasn’t as strong, and she was able to continue minutes sooner. See, already I’m getting better. And that thought brought her to her knees in an agonized cry. She didn’t want to be over him! That time, she thought the sobbing would never end…but it did.
In the wine cabinet she pulled out her favorite 2002 Ladera Cab. She remembered Alex smiling as they had sipped it—he was so happy to please her. Valeria opened the bottle and appreciated the musical tinkling as she poured it into Alex’s fine crystal. Taking a sip, she realized that his fine crystal made a difference in the taste of things. She would have to get some glasses like his…if she could bear it.
He had said that there could be no notes, no letters, nothing. Somewhere inside, she realized that she had held onto the hope that Alex would be here waiting for her to go into hiding someplace...but he wasn’t. This time, she only cried lightly while packing. It was as if she was cried out. Valeria decided that beyond her clothes and toiletries she would only take the Limoges box that he had purchased for her on their first date, but leave everything else as it was—except the pictures. What would she do with the pictures?
In the great room she stared at the portrait over the fireplace as she sipped the wine from the glass held in her trembling hand. It had only been just over a month ago when they had stood together, sipping their wine, and admiring the portrait. If she took it with her, there would be a hole where it had been. She would leave it and he could move it when he was ready. She picked up the picture of her, Camille, and Ava making a snowman. She would take that one, and the picture of her and Caleb. In the bedroom there was the picture of her and Alex laughing. How could she leave it? She thought for a minute…how could she take that from him? Finally, she decided to keep the picture of Alex holding her while she slept, and she left him the one of them laughing. After his eons of mourning her, he needed to remember that there was a time when they had lived and laughed together…and that she loved him.
Valeria went back to the bedroom and packed the rest of her clothes. Her favorite sweater had been in the basket to be cleaned. Now it was gone. She glanced at his bedside table and there was the box that his watch had been in—the one she had given him two days before in Greece. She went to the bed and opened the box, wondering if she would find his watch there, but the box was empty. He was letting her know that he had been there.
In the end, they would both have to move on…eventually, she thought, attempting to be pragmatic. She looked down at the engagement ring Alex had given her. So beautiful, but to have the ring on without him…she knew she couldn’t keep it. It would serve only as a painful reminder of what once might have been. She went to his drawer and pulled out the sterling ring box and slid the beautiful ring from her hand and placed it back in its metal box. Resisting the urge to write Alex a long love letter, she scribbled a quick note, “As much as I want to, it doesn’t seem right to wear this now. Until we meet again. Please hurry back to me. Remember, I love you!”
Then she realized that he could end up reunited with Kristiana or someone else. She couldn’t leave that message when that was a possibility. She crinkled her note up and threw it in the wastebasket and then hastily wrote one line on his elegant stationary and folded it. Valeria knew that the new “rules” forbid the note, but her heart felt too heavy to say anything less. Opening the envelope of cash he had left her, she pulled out 500 euros. Then remembering the kind Limo driver who was still waiting for her, she took another 1,000. She left the rest of the cash and the ring in the safe with a note that read, simply, “Until we meet again.”
Looking around the cottage that she loved, she wondered if she would ever see it again. Without permitting herself to dwell on it, she left her beautiful cottage in the woods—her home where she desperately wanted to stay forever. Her heart was broken in half; as a symbolon—a heart divided in two, neither feeling complete until…she couldn’t finish that thought!
The driver took her to a hotel near the Milan airport. As he pulled into the drive, Valeria’s heart lurched again; it was the estate turned hotel where they had first stayed in Italy. She asked the driver to take her anywhere else but he had insisted, pointing repeatedly at his watch. She finally acquiesced, tipping him generously, and then spent the night crying before catching her flight to what would now be home. She remembered telling Alex that her home was wherever he was. Now “home” was someplace else.
The next morning, she thanked God, again, for sunglasses.
CHAPTER 8
The sound of his cane echoed loudly as it tapped on the stone floor of the dark hallway with each step he took. He saw her and cackled, with no joy in his eyes.
“Our exchange is complete. You have what you want…and I have what I want.”
Toying with the crystal at her neck, the bronze-haired beauty glanced up and her eyes warily focused on Jeremiah.
“Are they still alive?” Kristiana asked, sitting on her battered throne in the cold grayness of her self-imposed prison.
The dungeonesque room spoke of another time with green velvet curtains, wrought iron candelabras, and rich tapestries that were now coated in thick cobwebs. Even Kristiana’s tattered clothing looked to be of another century. Despite that, there was something tragically beautiful about her.
“Yes…yes, they are alive, for the moment—but surely, my dear, you don’t believe that Alexander will be able to stay away from the girl.”
“He will stay away from her because he wants her to live,” Kristiana said, as if disinterested.
Jeremiah pursed his lips. “Alexander’s impertinence almost cost him his life! He is fortunate that you and I have an agreement.” His eyes narrowed. “Those damned oracles seem to believe that they are impervious to the laws of this council because they were once favored!” He shook his head. “I’m afraid I must agree with your friend Aegemon on this; we should have killed them all as soon as Apollo faded!”
“You and Aegemon could have cleared the world of the oracles…except that then I would not have gotten what I wanted.” She sat up and widened her eyes dangerously. “And I always get what I want, because I don’t care how long I must wait!”
Then her eyes looked down calmly as her fingers returned to the crystal. “Jeremiah, I will not have you speak of harming Alex. I will make that decision.” She tossed her head to the side. “And as of yet, I have not decided.”
“If Alexander shows disrespect to the council, I will call Erebos! Make no mistake of that!” Jeremiah pounded his cane on the floor as a decree.
“That was not our agreement, Jeremiah! Remember that you are in power only because of me.” She swatted at imagined gnats.
She was most definitely mad, Jeremiah thought. Who else but the insane would spend century after century alone in a cold, dark room, existing only for their brief moment of revenge?
“Ah, but I am in power now, and it would be best for you to remember that!” Jeremiah said.
Her eyes narrowed and she was suddenly inches from his face. “As you recall, I have my ways. And if I choose for you to no longer be in power, there are those who will assist me!” She was back in her throne in an instant. She glanced at her short nails and picked at them. “There are those who want you gone.”
He eyed her. “Our agreement was that—”
“Our agreement was that you were to take care of t
he girl,” Kristiana bellowed. “And if not for my intervention, they would be married now!” She sighed, as the irritation left her voice. “Why must I do everything myself?”
“Do you suppose it was easy for me to ensure that Shinsu didn’t know about the council meeting? That took almost a century of planning! I don’t believe she will speak to me for another century; all for you, my dear.”
A cynical smile touched her lips. “For yourself, Jeremiah! Remember that you have the council…and Shinsu, thanks to me and my visions.”
Jeremiah hesitated for a moment and then his eyes narrowed again. “Tell me, my dear, how do you do it?” His voice quieted, enticing her trust. “After all, our secrets are our own. You may be immortal…but you are clearly not an oracle!” Kristiana glared and then looked away. Jeremiah, continued, “As I suspected, you do not carry the gift. You have fooled a great many—though your eyes are not the color of an oracle.” He pursed his lips. “Your visions have dates…they are specific…there are only two oracles who are that powerful.”
“Were that powerful…” Kristiana corrected, a wicked smile striking her lips. “Two oracles who were that powerful.”
Jeremiah nodded and cackled. “Yes…yes, you are right!” He tapped his cane, he needed to know and he would play the game until she had given him the information he wanted. “And remember that together we handled the first…and soon the other will be gone.” His eyes narrowed in sudden recognition. “Hmmm, Cassandra wouldn’t have helped you.” Rubbing his chin, he looked up and drew a breath in thought, narrowing his eyes. “It must have been Myrdd who gave you the events…Why would he do that?”
“Men are so easily controlled.” She glanced down. “Still, I expected more of him.”
“So this is about power…control! You see, you are not so different from me.”
“Perhaps…at one time. But then,” her face and voice suddenly softened, “I saw Alexander and how he…looked at her,” she said, her words full of wonder. “It was long before I ever met him.” A smile briefly lit her face and then disappeared. “I wondered…Jeremiah, do you wonder…” She tilted her head to the side, in a gesture that was more personal than she had been in eons. She laughed. “Of course you do! You only wanted Shinsu because she belonged to someone you envied. Or could it be that you saw their love,” her voice became a whisper, “and you thought that if you were ever loved like that, your life might be different?”
Finding her honesty too much, Jeremiah cackled. “I believe you have too much time to contemplate, my dear! So, now I know. And Aegemon?”
She shrugged. “We have our agreements. But I don’t expect that he will be chasing oracles any time soon. There is one more thing that you must do! I do not want to ever battle for my husband again—do you understand?”
Shaking his head, Jeremiah warned, “Be wise about what you demand now! I have done what I agreed. There will be no further price to pay.”
Jumping from her position in her chair, she thrust her dagger toward him, and he cackled.
“You cannot threaten me with your daggers! I will take the next step. Not because you threaten me, but because I can…I do not want her there anymore than you do!” His face grew wary for a moment. “What will happen?”
Kristiana’s eyes glanced up at the ceiling, pursed her lips and then back down at the floor as she shook her head. “I’m not certain. He was going mad by then and the visions weren’t as clear.”
“Myrdd?”
She didn’t respond to his question. “Still I have powers of my own now…powers that no one can take away from me.” She fingered the crystal at her neck and glanced to the tome resting, with its pages open, on a pedestal across the room from her
CHAPTER 9
New York
Returning to New York was the right thing to do. It was a place where she could pretend that she hadn’t lost the most important things in her life. She opened the door to the brownstone and remembered a time when she didn’t expect so much from life, when this place had actually seemed like a home.
There were fifty-nine messages on her machine. But Valeria wasn’t ready to listen to any of them.
∞
Three weeks had passed since she had returned. There had been many knocks on the door but she just wasn’t up to dealing with it. This time the knocks continued; a pounding, desperate knocking, then the metallic sound of a key going into the lock. A gruff New York accent came through, “Lady? Lady?”
“I already told you I’ve been knockin’... Just cut the freaking chain!” It was Weege. The bolt cutters came through and cut the chain inside her door. Valeria watched it all, with nothing more than numb detachment. Then Weege walked into the apartment, as she excused the burly man in the wife-beater tank top and baggy pants.
She stalked through the flat in utter shock. Then Weege’s eyes found her.
“Holy shit!” Weege shook her head. “What the hell did that asshole do to you?”
Valeria sat on the floor, now weighing less than a hundred pounds; she was pale and her eyes were still swollen. She couldn’t even try to smile. The pictures of the family, who had been her only company, surrounded her; the one of her sleeping in Alex’s arms was still in her hand.
Staring for several minutes, Weege was speechless and then regained her composure. “What are these?” She picked up the pictures and analyzed them. Weege stared at the picture of Alex holding Valeria. Weege’s voice was hoarse. “Is that him? I see why you…uh…” She cleared her throat and then her face drew back for an instant as she stared into Valeria’s eyes. “Val, are you wearing contacts?” Weege continued to stare. “Uh, I love the color, but honey, I don’t know that you should be wearing them now.”
“Thanks,” Valeria said softy.
“But, Val, you gotta stop this crazy, friggin’ diet...now!” Valeria offered Weege her closest imitation of a smile and hugged her. Weege continued, “Come on, we’re gonna get you something to eat! I just found this new place; you’re gonna love it.”
Valeria decided that she needed to dress; she needed to find a way to at least pretend to be normal. She showered and changed into a pair of jeans, and realized that they were much too big. Yoga pants and a T-shirt would hide the actual weight loss better. Stepping outside onto the porch, for the first time since her return, wearing his gray jacket, the sunlight overtook her despite the fast moving clouds above that mostly blocked the sun. Covering her eyes with her arm and squinting, she frantically searched through her Louis Vuitton bag for her sunglasses. Finally she found them and scooted them along her nose.
She felt like a vampire, now exposed to the muted daylight of morning. Still, she was surprised that the cool air felt good; it made her feel something other than loss. Her legs felt a bit wobbly and she clung to the rail while she cautiously moved down the five steps that led to the sidewalk…and civilization. She noticed the buds forming on the trees along her street and recognized that it would soon be spring. Time was moving on without her.
As they walked up a block, bursts of steam rose through grates in the sidewalk. It was one of the oddities of Manhattan that Valeria loved. She felt her yoga pants sliding down on her hips. She reached for the waistband and yanked them up, hoping Weege hadn’t noticed. There had been no momentous decision to stop eating. She simply wasn’t hungry. She wasn’t anything; she was simply a half of a whole…now incomplete. There hadn’t even been a lot of tears since she’d arrived in New York—well, not the torrents like before. Now it was more like a constant drizzle.
Seeing Weege’s physical response to her appearance had concerned Valeria. She didn’t really see herself anymore. She didn’t feel hungry. She knew her clothes were much too big. But she didn’t care. Still, she had taken a major step…leaving her brownstone and going to breakfast with a friend. Normal people did that kind of thing…people who were whole, all by themselves. Valeria actually heard some of what Weege was saying and even responded a few times.
Reaching the main int
ersection, Weege hailed a cab and gave the driver directions.
“Ya know, Val, you need to find something to do with yourself. Maybe you should write. I mean it’s not like you’re inexperienced at it. You’ve been writing your whole life—you know, your journals.” Weege’s eyes enlarged. “Hey! I know! You could write my life story! You could be…like a ghost writer. Now that would be a New York Times Bestseller—guaranteed!”
Valeria nodded, but didn’t hear what Weege said. They drove around the north end of Central Park and a few oversized raindrops hit the windshield. As usual, Weege was shouting instructions to the cabbie, telling him how to get around the traffic that was slowing their progress. He occasionally glanced back with what appeared to be confusion but Valeria was quite certain that he didn’t understand a word Weege was saying.
At last they arrived at their destination and Weege paid the cabdriver. Valeria didn’t even think to object.
“Best breakfast place in Manhattan! I don’t know how we didn’t find this earlier. I guess there’s one on the West side. But I haven’t tried that one yet…and to celebrate your…uh…well, your return, I figured we go to the best! Right?”
They walked toward the green awning and Weege was smiling as she held the door open. There was something familiar that was gnawing at Valeria’s consciousness…then she saw the name on the door: “Sarabeth’s.”
Suddenly, her mind returned to the previous fall. It was the morning when she had first met Alex. She remembered so clearly the look in his eyes and the sound in his voice when he said, “Have breakfast with me.” It had been so sweet…so beautiful—a moment that, even then, had electricity and magic. He had held the door open for her and smiled at her in that way, that was now ingrained on her heart. Knowing Alex so well now, she realized how nervous he had been that day. But at the time he just seemed so cool…so charming…so Alex! And now…now…she felt the panic building in her chest, the pain overwhelming her. Suddenly, everything became a blur. Valeria disconnected from it and saw Weege’s expression become alarmed…Weege’s mouth was moving…people were scurrying around her and in her face and talking to her. She could hear a sound, a wailing, and to her shock, she realized that the sound belonged to her. Then, suddenly, everything went black.
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