I hear Elizabeth chuckle as she murmurs “just three months.” It’s the last thing I hear before Hypnos claims me, drawing me into a tranquil sleep.
Chapter Forty-One
Elizabeth
Departure
It’s been a year now since our two nieces have arrived. Every passing month they bring more sparkle back into Peter’s eyes. They are becoming more Italian every day, discovering and exploring life outside our little town. Peter still works five days a week at Mario’s, but he no longer comes home to an empty house. Instead, the girls have dinner ready, and fill the dinner hours with their excited chatter and joy. Peter laughs with them, delighting me. He has not laughed out loud for so long.
What do doctors know? They gave Peter six months, and yet here he is, still a part of the physical world. They thought I was young and healthy, but never predicted my heart would betray me and suddenly stop. But it did. These two young women have been the best medicine for Peter, giving him a reason to live on. He is now writing a missing chapter in his life: parenthood.
Laura has started singing in the local choir, and is also taking lessons in opera from a music teacher in town. As she masters each aria, her confidence grows. She has a gorgeous voice. I can hear Anne William Darcy singing through her.
Denise has turned the second smaller bedroom into her own atelier. She’s bought a small hand loom and is experimenting with weaving her own fabric. She convinces Peter to plant some flax so that she can spin her own linen threads. She distills lavender blossoms with a vision of creating her own dyes and perfumes. She keeps trying new experiments, learning lessons from her failures and crowing her triumphs. She won't give up, just like me.
When I died and left Peter behind, I was so worried he would revert to his frozen solitary ways. I shadowed his steps as he moved numbly through the house and fields. He did everything by rote; the fire in his eyes was doused. I grieved with him as he struggled to live a life with only half his will.
I now feel the circle Peter and I spent over twenty years sketching is nearing completion. The arrival of these two young women is the last piece needed to close the wildly uneven circumference we’ve drawn around our lives. In the quiet, the house breathes out peace and acceptance into the gravid air of the night. It seems to be waiting for the next episode of our story.
It’s unusually warm tonight. Peter steps out across the lawn with a lantern and makes his way to Lilith. I float over to meet him there. As he perches in the hammock under the motionless branches, he says out loud, “Elizabeth, when I watch Laura and Denise together, I have a glimpse of what you and Jane must have been like as young ladies. I also see my mother as an aspiring singer, along with Emily before her misstep with George Wickham. The outlines of the most treasured women in my life are being colored in before me. I am so grateful for this gift, to see at last what I missed.”
I know he can’t feel my fingertips as I cup his face in my hand. Mischievously, I pluck a few olives and toss them down directly onto his head. He starts when they land, and then laughs.
“All right, Elizabeth, are you handing me an olive branch in peace? I miss you so much. I’m getting ready to be with you. I contacted my lawyer last week. I’ve bequeathed Villa Lavanda and my estate to the girls. I think they will take good care of it, Besides, I know you’ll approve. That’s an excellent gift for them, don’t you think? They will accomplish wonderful things here.”
He stretches his legs out in front of him and relaxes. Tonight, he seems easier. The chronic pain he’s endured for the past three years is absent. As the night breeze cools his brow, he falls asleep. His breath slows as the hours slide by. When Laura discovers him in the morning, only his physical body remains. His essence is now with me.
Peter and I sit on the limbs of Lilith, watching the dawn break over the fields around us. We hear Laura calling frantically for Denise, who comes running and then watch both of them crying over Peter’s prone form. Their voices fade as we start to float away from them.
I reach out and touch Peter’s hand, asking him if he’s ready to leave. He squeezes my hand, letting me gently pull him upwards. “Come, there are people who are eager to see you again.”
We float past the olive leaves as I guide Peter upwards. He looks back down one last time.
“Peter, we will always be there for Laura and Denise. We will watch over them just like our parents looked over us. Come, it’s time to let go now.”
He smiles at me. “I’ve waited for this day for a long time. Shall we?”
We move upwards, floating into the glittery silver dawn, leaving the next chapter of this story to two vibrant young women to write as they will.
About The Author
Lisa K. Nakamura
Hailing from Hawaii, Lisa K. Nakamura
is a former flight attendant turned chef
with a botany degree to boot. After over
two decades, in the cooking world, she
is now indulging in her fascination with
the magic of words as ingredients
in this recipe of life.
Lavender and Parsley Page 16
