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Valentine Kisses: A Kiss to Last a Lifetime

Page 25

by Abigail Drake


  I was closer to the cemetery than I would like to be and yet, couldn’t get there soon enough. Every time I came, I anticipated meeting John. It was funny because I knew he was gone and yet, that stone up there, one of the many hundreds strewn all over the lawn, held a hope that his spirit was here, listening. And maybe, just maybe if I beg enough, he would come back.

  The fantasies of his return disappeared over the past few years but the tiny hope remained, no matter how impossible it was. As I rounded the curve of the street, through the black, wrought iron gates of the cemetery, I saw very few people. My feet staggering, I passed rows and rows of graves until I reached the row holding his.

  A lone figure sat at the grave with his arms around his knees. He was having a conversation with his best friend. Liam. His loss was just as great. John’s best friend since kindergarten, they might have married if I hadn’t appeared in their lives. I could only imagine how much harder it was for Liam, losing his only brother.

  I was close to Liam, too. We had spent many weekends and nights together, chatting, drinking, and acting crazy. He had been a constant in our lives and I never thought the thread would snap. Turned out, both of us had a similar style of grieving–shut the whole freaking world out and sort things alone. Everyone expected us to find solace in each other, but we could only see the painful memories of John in each other. Every minute…every hour of our day had been connected to John.

  We never talked after that day at the hospital. I remembered crying inconsolably in Liam’s arms. I soaked his suit at the funeral with my tears while his wet my hair. Yet, we never exchanged a word. Every time I looked at his sad, lost eyes, my words dried up. Liam left the week after the funeral to attend Princeton for his doctorate and just like that, any promise of keeping in touch disappeared. I knew Liam was only a call away but I never made the call. Nor did he. Our burdens were heavy and we weren’t ready to share.

  However, every year on this day, I met Liam at the cemetery. We sat quietly and acknowledged each other’s presence with nothing but silence. We parted with a hug as full and heavy as our hearts.

  As I walked toward him, Liam turned to look at me. His moist eyes didn’t surprise me, but the guilt in them did. I sat down next to him, acknowledging him with a nod and turned to the stone bearing John’s name. Tears rushed to my eyes and I lowered my face, swallowing the knot in my throat. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t break down. It’d been three years and I was stronger, doing things alone I never imagined I could do. I promised myself I would show John that I could survive.

  I felt Liam’s gaze and turned to him, blinking through the moisture in my eyes. He had a small smile on his face, a look of encouragement that lifted my sinking heart. When I nodded, he turned back to the grave continuing his silent conversation with John. After few minutes or hours, none of us kept track of time, he moved. He went on his knees, sitting on his ankles. I looked up. The change in his posture brought to focus how tall he was.

  “I think we should leave now,” he said. Smoke bellowed in front of him as he spoke.

  I nodded, reluctant to leave John but it had gotten colder. He stood up, then offered his hand. I held on and pulled myself up. Staring at him, I noticed his 5’o clock shadow for the first time. He looked better than last year but tired nonetheless. He stepped forward and gave me our customary hug. My face rubbed against the rough wool of his winter coat and I held him tighter. Normal…the world righted itself. John was still with us and all was as it should be. Then Liam pulled away and my reality crashed again. I felt bereft without Liam’s comforting hug.

  “Want to get some coffee? I want to show you something.” I could see he was taken aback by my offer, his forehead crunched as if he had tried to make sense of what was different this year. He nodded and we strolled comfortably side by side, mostly silent, lost in our memories. He followed my directions and within few short minutes, we reached “Pure & Co.” It stood between many small restaurants and retail stores, on a typical busy NYC street. Not only did the restaurant receive many reservations, but located on 59th Street, it experienced an impressive number of walk-ins, too. Confusion marred his face as he entered through the glass door. A small chime rang. I walked straight through the tables and behind the counter while I kept it open for Liam to enter through.

  Surprise writ large on his face, he finally said pointing to the name on the front door with his thumb, “This is yours?”

  Pride overwhelmed me. I nodded. “The only fresh, organic, see-what-you-eat restaurant in New York City. Every dish is made with only organic items and customers can view their meal being prepared.” I had worked really hard to turn this dream into reality.

  A lopsided smile appeared while he turned around and admired my handiwork. “This is impressive, Aisha. Wow,” enthused Liam. “Wasn’t this what John and you always wanted to start?”

  My smile dimmed a little. I nodded solemnly and folded my hands behind my back. I swayed a little and tried not to burst into tears.

  I cleared my throat and finally said, “Yes. We had started to work on the business plan before….. then, one day, I was done with the self-pity and decided to turn it into reality. John deserved this. And in some ways, it helped in keeping my mind off...things.”

  Sadness returned to his green eyes. He nodded, his hands fisted in his coat pockets. “I am so proud of you,” he said softly.

  My eyes welled up. Only he would know what it meant for me to work on this alone. John had talked about his dream constantly with both of us.

  “Come here.” He held his arms open and I rushed into them.

  Once again, I cried my heart out, even after three years of dealing with John’s loss. True, I spent every minute of the past year in building this dream of ours, but doing it without John, thinking how happy this would have made him, crushed my heart. Having Liam here and understanding the true meaning of this place was like finding a familiar face in a sea of strangers.

  His hug was tight, as if he was taking strength from me as I was taking from him. Slowly, our embrace softened and I untangled myself from his arms. I wiped my eyes with the back of my coat and picked up a napkin to clean up my face. Liam stood there waiting.

  “You know, we make some awesome coffee with beans from Puerto Rico. Would you like a cup?” I asked, my voice hoarse from all the crying. I gave him a small smile in between my sniffles. I’d hoped he would agree. It would be nice to spend some time with him away from the cemetery.

  He returned my smile and said, “Of course. I always told John he needed my stamp of approval on the food before it opens for the public. Even if you did all the work, I should still keep my word, being John’s dream and all.” Liam winked as if we shared a private joke, which caused me to laugh. He quickly joined in. I noticed how the dimple on his left cheek dipped with his smile. Liam was never short of girlfriends. Even if a woman could escape his charm, not many could resist his dimpled smile.

  I directed him to a table inside the kitchen while I asked Kiya, one of my two employees to make some coffee for us. He sat on the cushioned chair with his hands folded on the table. Kiya placed two coffees on the table and left us alone.

  “I heard from Marcy that you have a temporary teaching position at Princeton now. Do you keep in touch with her?” I asked, warming my hands on the coffee cup. Having taken his first sip, he nodded while his face brightened up a little. Was it the warmth of the coffee or the flavor which brought out his smile?

  “This coffee... I love it,” he said sipping again. “And yes, I call Marcy every week. She feels lonely without...and Mr. McCarthy still travels on consulting gigs. It’s been difficult for her.” He set his cup on the table, then took a deep breath.

  I nodded as memories of John’s parents rushed to me. Today was an incredibly difficult day for them, so I planned to visit in the afternoon.

  “Marcy helped me with some of the interiors. She did a great job,” I added. Liam looked around surprised and agreed with me. We were reduce
d to silence again, retreating into our memories. But silence with Liam had always been comfortable.

  “Oh, how’s Jules? You both still together?” Jules was Liam’s stunningly beautiful girlfriend. The first time he introduced me to her, I assumed she was a model but turns out, she was an engineer. Beauty and brains.

  “I thought you knew. We broke up soon after….” Liam left his explanation unfinished. The information shocked me.

  “I thought you guys were going strong. What happened?” I asked. Liam had never been the roving-eye kind and he’d been so serious about her. I thought back. Had there been any signs of unhappiness between them? But it’d been so long I couldn’t remember any. John’s death clouded my entire life during that year. Hunched over, Liam scratched an invisible mark on the table.

  “It was unfair to Jules. I wasn’t in love with her and after John...I didn’t feel it was right. If you’re not a hundred percent into it, a relationship won’t work. I was just wasting her time.” He couldn’t meet my gaze. His head was still bent down while his fingers drew invisible doodles on the table.

  ”I get it.” My voice cracked as I spoke. I knew what he was talking about. I’d had a special connection with John. Now the thought of spending time with anyone else, seemed like a waste of time. I put my hand on his. It must have been especially hard to lose both his best friend and girlfriend in one week. A twinge of pain slid through my chest. Why didn’t he share his breakup with me? I’d have liked to have been there for him as a friend and yet, I had been so consumed with grief after John’s death, I wouldn’t have been much use.

  “Have you found anyone special since then?” He looked up, his green eyes intense on me.

  “Yes. I’ve loved her for quite some time.” He withdrew his hand from mine. He stood up, getting ready to leave. He put on his coat while I handed him his scarf.

  Excitement bubbled inside me. Sharing your life with someone you love was a privilege. As he wrapped his scarf around his neck, I couldn’t hold my questions back.

  “When do I get to meet her?” I asked, happiness for him stretched my face into a smile. An unexpected bright spot on such a painful day.

  He stopped and looked up. “You can’t because…” He adjusted the scarf and frowned, “...we’re not together.” He met my eyes and gave me a small smile.

  My face fell. He deserved happiness. Liam had always been good friend and a gentleman. Not just the open-the-door-for-you kind of gentleman but also, the I-would-fight-for-you gentleman.

  “I have to go now. See you soon, I hope,” he said as he turned to leave.

  I nodded and noticed the sadness in his eyes had returned. We had a few good moments, reconnecting as in the past. But I wanted more. It’d been three years. I couldn’t let Liam leave heart-broken. As he turned toward the door, I touched his arm, stopping him.

  “What happened? Did you tell her?” A storm brewed in his eyes. I recognized the signs. I wasn’t a stranger to losing a loved one. His pain brought forth an ache I didn’t expect. I stepped forward and hugged him tight. I’d hoped his heartache would ease. But he didn’t return my hug. I squeezed him tighter and tried to assure him he wasn’t alone in his pain.

  He lowered his head slightly and I felt his nose brush my hair.

  He whispered, “I could never tell her, Aisha. The girl I am in love with has always been you.”

  I paused. My body stiffened. The rush of heat to my face suffocated me and I jerked out of his arms. He moved back slightly, his hands outstretched. I stared in shock at Liam. He stood impassive. His sad eyes bored into mine and implored me to see his side of things. Yet, instead of empathy, I felt the rush of anger and before I could stop myself, I slapped him.

  “How could you?” I hissed. I didn’t expect resentment spill out. It was irrational but how could he fall in love with me when his best friend… his dead, best friend wanted me for his wife! I rushed toward him, my hands bunching the rough fabric of his jacket. I shook him in a rage.

  “How could you, Liam? John loved me and I loved him. How could you betray him this way?” Tears filled my eyes and threatened to spill down my face. I blinked and wished the burning would go away.

  Liam looked down, his lips pursed and yet, his face still soft. The apology did not come, nor an explanation given. His silence infuriated me. Such an insult to the memory of John! Oh, my dear, sweet John. Did he know that his best friend was leering at his girlfriend all those years?

  I closed my eyes and let the tears flow. I leaned against him and lowered my head to hide my face after breaking down once again. The heartbreak of John’s loss was as intense as the first time. I don’t know how long I cried standing against him, but he didn’t move an inch. Neither did he touch me. He was just there. A sentinel to my pain.

  As I wound down, I looked up to find him with a frown on his face. Deflated, all of my anger drained out of me. A lone tear slid down my cheek. Liam’s gaze followed the streak. He touched it, wiping the tear with his thumb. I closed my eyes at his touch and cursed my weakness. I felt his hands on my arms as he moved back a little and steadied me. He cleared his throat then sighed and looked down.

  “I fell in love with you the very first time you came to meet John at his house. I fell head over heels and knew John loved you, too. I couldn’t help it, Aisha. But I made sure John never knew of it, though at times, I suspected he realized. I’d change it if I could, but I have always loved you. It was as clear as rain. It was as certain as sunrise. But not ever having you was also as inevitable as the sunset. And when John died…,” he took a deep breath, slowing down whatever storm had taken over in his heart. “...I ran away as fast I could because I was scared I would betray my best friend. I have always kept my distance, Aisha. So please, don’t ever accuse me of betraying John. If I could, I’d be happy to exchange his death for mine.” His jaw tense, the slow burn of anger at fate lit his eyes.

  Guilt took hold of me and I averted my gaze. My anger ebbed away at hearing his confession, replaced by sharp pain in my heart watching his pain. He looked away, his breath heavy. He ran a hand through his hair, his agitation evident.

  “I have to leave now,” he said and strode out of the restaurant. I wanted to stop him but I had no words. I stumbled back and slumped onto the ground. A fresh wave of despair hit me. Had I lost the only other person closest to John?

  I spent the rest of the day in a daze as I absorbed Liam’s revelation. How was I so blind to his interest? I always felt he didn’t think I was good enough for John. Was that his way of keeping his distance? I shook my head, disbelief still written on my face. I was drained of emotion. Every thought threatened to break me. All I wanted to do was curl up and never wake again. But there was one more thing I had to do before I could put an end to this miserable day.

  Leaving the keys and instructions to close the restaurant with Kiya, I made my way to Marcy’s home in Westchester. The hour-long train ride couldn’t dull the pain. Visiting with Marcy was akin to ripping open the still-unhealed wounds but I couldn’t leave John’s parents to grieve alone. They were extremely kind to me and nothing had changed after his death. If anything, they were kinder to me as we mourned together.

  Mr. McCarthy sat on the front porch staring at the setting sun, unaware of my arrival. He looked older, the skin on his cheeks sagging. Death could be cruel but watching your child die was the worst punishment. I climbed up the stairs and kneeled in front of him. As I touched his arms, he jerked, startled.

  “Oh, my sweetheart! When did you arrive?” A soft smile broke out on his face. His eyes moist, he cupped my face and kissed my forehead. I nodded, my eyes wet and unable to trust my voice. I must be strong. I swallowed and smiled.

  “How are you, Mr. McCarthy?” I asked relieved I didn’t sound as weak as I feared.

  He nodded and said, “Never better...never better. Go inside. Marcy has been waiting for you. Liam also stopped by. Find a girl for him, will you? A young man like him should be going out with pretty girls
, not getting old earning degrees!”

  I smiled, my heart beating fast. “Is Liam still here?” I asked and hoped it sounded enthusiastic and not panicky. He nodded, squeezing my arm lightly. I took that as a goodbye and walked toward the huge, teak-brown front door. I hung my coat and removed my winter boots then entered the foyer. I walked in to the family room with the fireplace warming up the whole space. In the middle of the room, I saw Marcy and no sign of Liam. I took a relieved breath and called out to her. Marcy turned to look at me and stood up with a smile on her face. Hair full of grey, her bright smile did not match the dark dress she wore but then, she had always been a contradiction. Loving yet tough. Demanding yet kind. Disciplined yet so maternal. I rushed into her arms and hugged her tight. Her soft, frail body embraced me and warmth spread throughout me. A mother’s hug made every heartache better and I relished it. She kissed both my cheeks with pride, as if I was her own. Her hands lingered on my face, concern in her eyes.

  “Your cheeks...they are so hollow. Worse than last time. Aisha, you should eat. Don’t count your calories. Women these days survive on air. Whatever happened to a buttery breakfast and mashed potato dinner?” She tugged me over to sit. We sat on the sofa while she held my hand.

  “How are you, my dear?” she asked as if she sensed something bothered me. I nodded, swallowing a knot. On an instinct, I hugged her again and fought the deluge of tears which threatened me. She patted my back, while I tried to get my breathing under control. I finally pulled back, wiping my eyes with my sweater sleeve.

 

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