The Color of Heaven (The Color of Heaven Series)

by Julianne MacLean

  “What did she say?”

  I leaned up on an elbow. “She told me that I couldn’t follow her to heaven yet because I needed to take care of her brother.”

  Kirk sat up as well and regarded me with fascination. “No kidding.”

  “I told her, of course, that she didn’t have a brother, but she explained to me that he was waiting for his turn. So… I think we’re going to have a son.”

  Kirk stared at me in disbelief. Then he inched closer on the bed and kissed me on the mouth.

  Chapter Sixty-two

  If happiness comes in waves, my life was bobbing about in a thrilling and terrifying windstorm at sea.

  The day after the doctor confirmed that I was pregnant, the telephone rang. Kirk was at work, and I was home alone.

  According to the call display, it was a 212 area code, which meant it was coming from New York.

  Every nerve ending in my body tensed suddenly. What if it was one of the agents who had read Matt’s book? What if this person was calling to offer representation? They didn’t usually call to reject you.

  After the third ring, I braced myself for anything, and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  “Is this Sophie Duncan?” It was a man’s voice.

  “Yes, may I help you?”

  There was a brief pause, then a click, which told me I had just been taken off speaker phone.

  “Well, hello there,” the caller said cheerfully. “This is Dennis Velcoff from Phoenix Literary. You submitted your father’s book to us.”

  I sat down. “Yes, that’s right. It’s nice to hear from you, Mr. Velcoff. What can I do for you?”

  He paused again. “I think the more important question is what I can do for you, Ms. Duncan, because I really loved the book. It’s the best thing to come across my desk in a dog’s age. I’d like to talk to you about representation. Do you have a minute?”

  I began to quietly tap my feet on the floor, while I fought to keep my voice calm. “Of course.”

  He launched into a detailed speech about all the things he loved in the book—the tragic elements of the story, the strength of the characters, the lyrical quality of the prose. He felt that it was not only a literary masterpiece, but that it had commercial value as well, which was a rare combination, and he was certain the plot would do well in the hands of a good screenwriter.

  Mr. Velcoff wanted my permission to send it over to a Hollywood film agent.

  In the meantime, while Hollywood was looking at it, Mr. Velcoff wanted to shop it around to the right people in New York, and get me a book deal. He was absolutely certain he could get at least six figures for it—possible seven if the stars aligned just right.

  Was I interested? he asked. I had to pick myself up off the floor in order to say yes.

  o0o

  Three weeks later, after a fierce bidding war between three large publishing houses, the deal closed at half-a-million dollars for the North American print rights, while Mr. Velcoff held onto the foreign rights. He intended to start selling those as soon as the offer for the film rights was nailed down.

  An A-list producer did, indeed, want to adapt it to film, and at that point, he and Mr. Velcoff were still negotiating the deal.

  The following day, I was offered a million dollars for the film option, and I happily took the check—which I donated, in equal amounts, to the oncology department at the children’s hospital where Megan was treated, and neurological cancer research.

  With great pleasure, I placed the donations in Megan’s and my father’s names.

  Chapter Sixty-three

  If you’re reading this book, you’ve probably already guessed that Mr. Velcoff represented me on this project as well, which also went for a significant advance. You can hunt around for the exact dollar amount on the Internet if you’re curious.

  But let me remind you that it really doesn’t matter. I would have written this book for nothing, for it was a story I simply had to tell.

  Epilogue

  I am pleased to report that I gave birth to a healthy son and we named him Peter Matthew Duncan.

  A year and a half later, Kirk and I had a second child—a daughter we named Cora.

  These days, we live a happy, quiet life at our home in the New Hampshire countryside. Kirk still teaches music and occasionally plays a gig at a jazz club in the city.

  I’m a full-time mother and part-time writer, who has learned to appreciate the small, special moments which never fail to take my breath away.

  I still miss Megan. Sometimes I ache to hold her in my arms, watch her sleep, smell the sweet scent of her skin. I wish I could watch her grow into a beautiful young woman and seek out her destiny. She would be in middle school now if she had not departed from this world, but that is not how things are, and I know I must accept it.

  So, I do. I look at her picture on my desk and feel the spirit of her presence. I savor the love she left behind.

  That will have to be enough, at least until we meet again.

  So we are done now, I believe. That was my story, but I have no intention of typing THE END, because I no longer believe in such a thing. Hope lives forever.

  Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

  I wish you happiness and joy.

  -o0o-

  Questions for Discussion

  The Color of Heaven

  1. In chapter one, Sophie mentions her first love, Kirk Duncan, and says: “I knew that no matter where life took us, I would always love him.” Do you believe she made a mistake to let him go? Was her marriage to Michael a mistake?

  2. Sophie’s husband Michael wants to have another child when Megan is ill. Do you think Sophie was right to say no, and do you think it would have made a difference in keeping their marriage together if she had gotten pregnant at that time?

  3. When Sophie rekindles her romance with Kirk after she wakes up in the hospital, do you believe it was the right thing for her to do, or do you feel she was playing it safe, retreating into a former, familiar comfort zone?

  4. Different sections of the book have different headings: Sunshine and Rain, Going Home, Cora’s Story, Flowers, The Deep Blue Sea, Mountains, Life. What is the significance of these headings in terms of the story structure and the themes?

  5. In chapter thirty-two, just before Matt walks back into Cora’s life, she says: “It was early October in 1968 when the monstrous wave crashed and exploded onto the coastline of my life, changing my future forever.” Earlier in chapter twenty-nine, not long after she and Peter share their first kiss at the lake, she says: “The woods were quiet that day. I couldn’t hear the sea.” What is the significance of these two ideas in relation to Peter and Matt, and where else in the novel does “land and sea” play a part in terms of symbolism? What does this reveal about Cora and what she wants out of life?

  6. Peter quickly comes to Cora’s rescue after Matt’s death, and offers her marriage. Do you think she was right to accept him? Did you feel that Peter was taken advantage of, or did you view him as a heroic character?

  7. When Sophie leaves the hospital to return to her mother’s house in Camden, did you know that she was still having an out-of-body experience? At what point in the novel did you realize that Cora was dead and the Camden world was not real? What were some early clues that suggested it was an out-of-body experience?

  8. Grief is an important theme in the novel. How does it affect Sophie’s relationship with her father, Peter, and how does it affect the breakdown of her marriage? What were some similarities in these two relationships? Do you believe Sophie and Kirk will be able to weather future storms in their marriage if grief becomes an issue?

  9. How does the discovery of Matt’s manuscript in Peter’s attic change Sophie’s life? Do you think Matt wanted her to publish his novel? Why or why not?

  10. Do you believe in life after death? Have you ever had an out-of-body experience or some communication with a “ghost,” or do you know someone who has?

  11. In
the epilogue, Sophie reveals that she had a son with Kirk—which is exactly what Megan predicted. Sophie then goes on to say they also had a daughter, but Megan never mentioned a sister. What do you think is the significance of this?

  oOo

  For more information about this book and others in the Color of Heaven series, please visit the author’s website at www.juliannemaclean.com. While you’re there be sure to sign up for Julianne’s newsletter to be notified about when a new book in this series is released.

  Read on for an excerpt from The Color of Destiny, book two in the Color of Heaven series…

  The Color of Destiny

  Book Two

  by Julianne MacLean

  Available Now

  Eighteen years ago a teenage pregnancy changed Kate Worthington’s life forever. Faced with many difficult decisions, she chose to follow her heart and embrace an uncertain future with the father of her baby and her devoted first love.

  At the same time, in another part of the world, sixteen-year-old Ryan Hamilton makes his own share of mistakes, but learns important lessons along the way. Twenty years later, Kate’s and Ryan’s paths cross in a way they never could have expected, which makes them question the possibility of destiny. Even when all seems hopeless, could it be that everything happens for a reason, and we end up exactly where we are meant to be?

  Includes Bonus Content: A Bookclub Discussion Guide

  oOo

  Excerpt from THE COLOR OF DESTINY

  Book Two in the Color of Heaven Series

  Available Now

  Preface

  Kate Worthington

  According to Webster’s Dictionary, destiny is defined as a predetermined course of events often held to be an irresistible power. I have often wondered if a person’s life follows a path that is laid out long before he or she ever takes a first step. Or are we in control of what happens to us?

  My name is Kate Worthington and I am a paramedic. I’ve seen some dramatic events in my life. I’ve watched people fight to survive, with impressive fortitude, and I’ve watched others surrender to death peacefully without fear of what lay beyond. Perhaps they could see what waited for them on the other side. Perhaps they knew it was beautiful.

  Or perhaps they simply had no notion that they were in any danger to begin with, and simply allowed themselves to be carried along by fate.

  I’ve also seen people come back from the dead, in more ways than one, and I wonder if they returned because there was some unfinished business to attend to. Maybe they still had lessons to learn.

  I certainly have more than a few lessons to learn, but I do know one thing: Sometimes life is cruel, and at times it can seem rather pointless and tragic. But occasionally and surprisingly, certain hardships can lead us down a new path we never could have imagined.

  And maybe that new path—that unexpected set of changed circumstances—was our destiny all along.

  Chapter One

  Saving Lives

  I’m sure if you look back, you are able to pinpoint specific events in your life that changed you forever. For me, one of those events occurred on a country road in New Hampshire, in the frigid cold of a mid-February afternoon in 2007, when I watched a scuba diver pull a dead woman from the bottom of a frozen lake.

  “What happened?” I asked the cop when I stepped out of the ambulance and felt the heel of my boot slip on a patch of black ice. “Whoa.” I grabbed hold of the side mirror to steady myself.

  “The driver swerved to avoid hitting a deer,” he replied, blowing into his hands and rubbing them together to warm them. “Must have hit the brakes too hard. According to witnesses, the vehicle did a one-eighty, then rolled down the embankment. Landed upside down on the ice and stayed there for a minute or two before the ice broke. Then…down she went.”

  There were a few cars parked on the side of the road with their hazard lights blinking. It was the usual scene. Spectators stood around, watching the show. Cop cars were positioned with red and blue lights flashing, and other officers in neon yellow vests waved at oncoming cars, motioning for everyone to move along.

  “How long has the vehicle been underwater?” I asked, not knowing if it was a single driver or an entire family with kids. Heaven forbid.

  “About twenty minutes,” the cop said. “Lucky thing there was a car following behind. Saw the whole thing and called it in.”

  “I don’t know if I’d call any of this lucky,” I said. “How did you get a diver down here so fast?”

  “Another stroke of luck,” the cop replied. “He’s a volunteer with search and rescue, and conveniently, he lives right there.” He pointed at a small lakeside bungalow.

  “I suppose that is lucky.”

  “Yeah, though I’m not sure how much good it’ll do. Twenty minutes under water. I’m not holding out much hope.”

  I strode closer to the edge of the road to get a better view just as the scuba diver re-surfaced. He bobbed like a cork out of a gaping black hole in the ice.

  In his arms, he held the limp body of a woman.

  Chapter Two

  I became a paramedic because I was fascinated by emergency medicine. This obsession began when I was sixteen. How exhilarating to imagine that I could actually save a life. I did briefly consider going to medical school, but didn’t feel I had the grades.

  Not that it doesn’t take brains to be a paramedic. I studied hard to get through the program. On top of that, it takes a certain type of person to keep a cool head in out-of-control situations when people are covered in blood.

  I’m proud of my skills. I’m also proud of the fact that I graduated from high school at all, when someone else in my situation might never have made it. I’ll explain more about that later, but for now, let’s focus on the dead woman.

  oOo

  As soon as the rescue team reached the snow-covered shoreline and set the body down, I checked for a pulse. There wasn’t one.

  “Hurry,” I said. “We have to get her out of here.”

  I climbed up the embankment, reaching hand over hand, slipping on snow-covered rocks, while the rescue team followed behind me, awkwardly hoisting the gurney. They reached the road at last and extended the wheels. My partner, Bill, bagged and masked the woman while I began chest compressions, which I performed while walking alongside the rolling gurney as we wheeled her to the ambulance.

  Bill always did the driving. He enjoyed blasting the horn, running traffic lights, and I’m pretty sure he entered this line of work because he loved the wail of the siren. Me…I always reminded him to slow down and drive with care. All I wanted was to keep my patients safe and tell them everything was going to be okay.

  I knew this woman couldn’t hear me, but when we slid her into the back of the ambulance and the doors slammed shut, I spoke the words to her regardless. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I said. Habit I guess.

  “Buckled in?” Bill asked over his shoulder as he turned the key in the ignition. He was joking of course, because I had work to do in the back. I was busy putting the leads on and calling ahead to the hospital.

  When I had the doctor on the line, I calmly and quickly explained the situation while looking down at the woman’s face behind the oxygen mask. She was about my age, mid- to late-thirties, with dark auburn hair. Some of the ends were white with frost. She was a sickly blue-gray color, like a cadaver in a morgue, but also severely hypothermic. That observation gave me hope.

  “What’s her temperature?” the doc asked me.

  I reached into my bag for the digital thermometer. “Eighty-one degrees. And she’s soaking wet.”

  He paused, but only for a second, then began spouting off instructions. “Get her clothes off right away and cover her with a heating blanket. Tell your driver to crank up the heat in the ambulance as high as it will go. Start warm IV fluids. Stick the IV bags down your own shirt if you have to. The goal is to get her warm, even if you can only raise her temperature a few degrees. Don’t defibrillate. Not yet. Focus
on warming her up to at least eighty-six, then start CPR. We’ll be waiting for you outside the ER doors.”

  I proceeded to remove the patient’s wet clothes, then I wrapped her in an electric heating blanket and stuffed the IV bags down my shirt like the doctor suggested.

  “Where’s a microwave when you need one?” I said to Bill, shocked by the chilly bag against my skin. “Ooh, that’s cold.”

  I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for this poor woman, when gallons of ice water came pouring into her car.

  I used my stethoscope to check for a heartbeat and looked at her face again. Would we be able to revive her? I wondered. And if we did, would she ever be the same?

  “How you doing back there?” Bill asked as he took a hard right turn. I fell forward slightly, then tucked the blanket around the woman a little more tightly.

  “We’re okay. Do you have the heat up as high as it’ll go?”

  “Yeah, but do you really think there’s any hope? She was down there a long time.”

  “She’s not dead until she’s warm and dead,” I replied, taking her temperature again. Eighty-three degrees.