Between

by Tefft, Cyndi

  At the end of finals week, Jen and Steph were packed up for the summer and hugged me goodbye, their concern evident. “I’ll be fine,” I assured them. “Next year is gonna be better, just wait.” I gave them a brave smile and promised to email them over the summer. Sitting on the bed after they left, I knew what I needed to do. I picked up my cell phone and called my dad.

  “Hi, Dad. Yeah, finals went okay. I won’t know how I did for a few weeks though, since they still have to be graded. Yeah thanks, I hope I did well. Um, listen, Dad? I… I’m not coming home right now. I need some time away, some time to myself so I can just think. It’s been a really rough year. No, it’s not your fault. I just need to be alone for a while, so I’m gonna to go to the cabin. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there. Maybe I’ll get a job in town or something, but I need to go.”

  Thankfully, he understood and even insisted on adding to the cash card he’d given me so I could buy supplies. “Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, pumpkin. Call me if you need anything, all right? Be safe.” I promised him I would and hung up, then just stared at the phone.

  Chapter 34

  I busied myself with packing up and going into town to buy the necessary supplies for a couple of weeks at the cabin. In truth, I had no idea how long I’d be there. I just knew I had to go. The doctor’s words echoed in my head as I pulled onto the freeway heading north.

  It’s not going to be fun, but the only way to get better is to work with the pain instead of trying to avoid it.

  So I drove headlong into the pain and the closer I got to the cabin, the more excited and anxious I became. I told myself he wouldn’t be there, that it would be empty, but just the idea of standing in the place where I’d seen him last made my pulse quicken in anticipation. Moonlight struggled to illuminate the hazy midnight sky as I finally pulled onto the dirt road. Driving slowly, careful not to kick up dust, I held my breath until the dark shape of the cabin was visible in my headlights. I shut off the car and stared at it, unable to go in.

  Give me strength, Lord.

  I left the headlights on so I could see the path to the front door and felt around underneath the eave for the spare key. A sliver pierced my finger and I jerked my hand away, irritated, then grabbed the key and unlocked the door. The floorboards had swollen over the winter so I had to shove hard to get it open.

  Well, fixing that will give me something to occupy myself at least.

  I flipped the power switch on the electrical panel and a low, steady hum filled the room as the antique refrigerator sprang to life. When I turned on the light in the kitchen, my eyes immediately went to the little card table where he’d sat watching me cook breakfast. My chest constricted and I couldn’t breathe.

  Empty.

  I swallowed hard and turned away, flipping on the porch light and heading out into the cool night air to retrieve my bags. The familiar scent of the pine trees welcomed me back and I gave myself a mental shake.

  Hold it together, Lindsey. You can do this.

  After hauling in the supplies and loading the fridge, I took my bags upstairs and shivered with the cold as I turned on the lamp next to the bed. The memory of sleeping with Aiden on that king-sized bed taunted me and I squeezed my eyes shut to try and block it out of my mind. Thinking it was more neutral ground, I set up my blankets on one of the twin beds under the eave instead.

  After turning off the lights, I changed into a flannel nightgown and burrowed under the covers. Tired as I was, sleep was not likely to come anytime soon. The special scent of the cabin, musty pine and wood smoke, curled around me in a comforting embrace. This was my favorite place in the whole world, now even more so because I’d shared it with Aiden. And though the loss of him consumed my every thought as I lay there in the dark, I knew I was where I needed to be. And that was enough.

  The next morning, I woke to the sound of birds chirping as the sun streamed through the window. I smiled and stretched, remembering many other days from my childhood when I’d awakened the same way, in this very bed. I changed clothes and padded down the stairs, humming softly. I realized it had been a long time since I’d sung to myself. The thought made me sad and I frowned, more convinced than ever that Father O’Malley was right, that I needed this in order to heal.

  I set to work building a fire in the antique wood stove, feeling Aiden’s presence as strongly as if he were standing right behind me. I knew it was stupid, but I turned around anyway, half expecting to see him standing there with that amused look in his eyes. He wasn’t, of course, but I felt as if the air was thick with his spirit and I gripped the edge of the sink to steady myself.

  Damn, this is even harder than I thought.

  I built a fire in the living room, trying not to think of the times I’d sat watching him do just that, relishing the way his kilt moved over his legs. Memories bubbled to the surface but I tamped them down, afraid that if I were to open up the floodgates entirely, I might not make it. I concentrated instead on remembering the cabin as a child, when it was my dad who was making the fire. Of how he taught me to bait a hook with a worm while I made girly noises of disgust. Dad loved to go fishing and got so excited whenever he caught something. He’d make us eat the little fish with barely a flake of meat on them and he’d sigh contentedly with the first forkful like it was manna from heaven. The thought of my dad reminded me of why I had come.

  I headed outside and walked down the hill to the lake. The beautiful June sunshine reflected off the water with dazzling brightness. Across the lake, I could see a handful of boats with people enjoying their summer at the lake. It was different than when I was here with Aiden, and I was thankful for that. Fingering the ring I wore around my neck, I thought of the emotion on his face as he’d asked me to be his bride. I held my head in my hands and allowed the tears to come.

  Oh Aiden, I miss you so much. I see you everywhere I look. It’s so hard.

  I told myself I should stop talking to him in my head, that doing so only made it harder to move on, but I needed to tell him how I felt, even though I knew he couldn’t hear. Still, this is why I had come, to get it all out once and for all so I could move on, so I could move past the pain. It was going to be a long couple of weeks, though.

  Back at the cabin, I crept upstairs to take a nap, my heart heavy. When I woke, the fading rays of an orange and red sunset illuminated the loft. I sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at the empty room. He was gone—I knew it in my bones. I’d accepted it at last, but only numbness remained. My stomach growled but I ignored it. My bladder made its own needs known and I begrudgingly obliged, finally getting off the bed and heading to the bathroom outside.

  After rebuilding the fire, I spent the rest of the evening staring at the orange flames as they flickered back and forth, devouring the logs with beautiful tongues of fire. Darkness came but I didn’t move to turn on a light, simply frozen in place, mesmerized by the movement of the flames. I opened my journal to the poem I’d written about Aiden that Ravi had set to music and felt a pang in my chest. I turned to a blank page and began to write in the eerie shadows of the firelight.

  Dear Aiden,

  I stared at the words on the page, unsure of how to say goodbye. A tear dropped on the page next to his name, the ink blurring slightly at the edge. I pressed on.

  There are no words to describe how much I miss you, how much I hurt inside to be apart from you and to know I can never touch you again. Maybe in death we’ll be together, whenever that comes again, but not now. I have cried until no more tears would come and I cannot cry anymore.

  I have to let go. I don’t want to. I want to hold on to you with every beat of my heart, but the pain is more than I can bear. This is the only way for me to heal. And I desperately need to heal. I can’t go on this way. It’s killing me inside.

  I love you. Oh God, I love you, Aiden, but I have to let you go or I will never live again. I will remember you forever, your voice, your smile, your touch. You are al
l I could have ever wanted, my lover, my friend, my husband.

  My hand shook as I wrote the word ‘husband’ and I had to stop. I prayed for strength and concentrated on the sound of the fire, hissing and popping in the quiet stillness of the room.

  I have to say goodbye. I’m sorry.

  The word ‘goodbye’ screamed at me from the page and instead of feeling the release and closure I’d hoped for, anger flared within me. My mind revolted at the sight of the word and I pictured Aiden’s face as if I’d said the words aloud to him.

  I can just picture the hurt in his eyes. I could never do that to him. Never.

  Somewhere in the hazy depth of my pain, my mind grabbed hold of the word ‘picture’ and my blood froze instantly.

  “Oh, please…”

  I leapt off the couch, the journal and pen spilling off my lap onto the floor. I dashed through the dark shadows of the room to the kitchen drawer where we kept the camera and flung the contents onto the floor. Frantically, I yanked out the camera, my hands shaking as I pressed the power button. The light from the LCD screen glowed bright in the nearly black room and I crumpled to the floor as my legs turned to jelly beneath me. Clutching the camera tight with both hands, I drank in the beauty of our smiling faces in the picture before me.

  The floodgate I’d been trying so hard to hold back finally burst open. Heaving sobs racked my body, the heart wrenching sound echoing off the walls all around me. I couldn’t tear my eyes from his face for the longest time but at last pulled myself up, my legs still shaking. Wobbling back to the couch, I retrieved the journal, grabbed the pages of my letter to Aiden with my fist and ripped them out. When I tossed them into the fire, the pages scattered, sending sparks flying into the room as the flames greedily consumed this latest prey. Upstairs, I collapsed into bed with the camera cradled against my chest.

  Fragmented dreams of Aiden filled my mind as I slept. My heart swelled with love as I watched him build a fire. He came over and pulled me into his arms, the smell of wood smoke clinging heavily to him. His clothing and his hair were thick with the scent and I pulled away from him, coughing a little and covering my mouth. He gave me a quizzical smile and I coughed again, coming awake.

  Swirling grey fingers seeped through the floorboards in the loft and I blinked in confusion, my mind not comprehending why they were there. A hazy sheen of smoke was visible in the moonlight, the wispy tendrils silently jostling one another for space on the ceiling.

  “Oh, shit!” I cried, my mind finally coming up to speed. I leapt out of bed and raced down the stairs, covering my mouth as I ran into the billowing smoke that had filled the kitchen and living room. The acrid stench filled my lungs and burned my eyes as I grabbed the fire extinguisher. I batted at the smoke with my free hand and it taunted me, moving away and then quickly circling back. The woodpile next to the fireplace had caught on fire and orange flames menacingly licked the draperies above. I pulled the pin and squeezed the handle, praying that it would work. A spray of white foam poured from the container and I swept it back and forth over the base of the flames.

  My eyes watered uncontrollably and I squeezed them shut, focusing all my energies on putting out the fire. My arms and legs began to shake as the extinguisher spit out its final droplets of foam. I scrambled toward the door to the outside deck and tripped on the wooden mushroom footstool, knocking my forehead soundly against the hardwood floor. Crawling on my hands and knees, I strained to make it to the door. The smoke strangled me, gripping my lungs with its burning, acid stench. The suffocating pressure in my chest held me in place and I reached out in desperation before my arm fell limp and all strength was gone.

  Aiden…

  I called to him in my mind with my last conscious thought, then surrendered to the dense grey fog that consumed me.

  Chapter 35

  Strong arms pounded me on the back and I coughed hoarsely, feeling the cool, fresh air pulled into my lungs like water over desert sand. I gulped the air in desperate breaths and wiped my watering eyes with the palm of one hand, the blackened film of smoke residue smeared across my fingers.

  “Oh, thank ye, Jesus,” a voice breathed next to my ear and those strong arms pulled me into a bear-like embrace, making me cough harder as I gasped for air. “Oh sorry, lass.”

  My head snapped up at the sound and breath no longer mattered as my eyes flew open wide. “Aiden!” I croaked in disbelief. His arms tightened around me and his voice cracked.

  “Lindsey, my love, you’re all right,” he whispered and I could feel his chest trembling as he held me. I pulled away so I could see his face, my heart singing with joy. My eyes and throat still stung terribly and the tears streaming down my face didn’t help, but I didn’t care.

  “Aiden… Oh God, Aiden…” I couldn’t stop saying his name and I ran my hands over his face, his arms, his back, unable to touch him enough.

  “It’s really you, mo chridhe. I can hardly believe you’re in my arms again. Oh, Lord in heaven…” The words tumbled out of him as his fingertips traced my face in wonder and awe. I smiled at him and his face broke into a huge grin.

  We both started laughing, overcome with emotion. He cupped my face with both hands, like he’d done so many times before, and kissed me. My heart leapt in my chest and I pressed myself against him, filled with unspeakable relief and joy at being in his arms again.

  His mouth tasted like smoke and when we pulled away, I closed my eyes, imagining the cabin and our bodies restored, then waited expectantly for the familiar shimmer to pass over me, making everything new once more. Nothing happened. I frowned and tried again.

  Nothing.

  “Why can’t I cast? What’s wrong?” My stomach clenched in confusion and fear as I sought the answer in his eyes, but he just smiled.

  “It’s because you’re not dead.” I just shook my head, not understanding. He swept his thumb across my forehead to smooth my brow, his eyes full of excitement as if he had a wonderful secret to share. “And now, because of you, neither am I.”

  “What?” I cried.

  He threw back his head and let out a full belly laugh as I stared at him, dumbfounded. “I can hardly wait to tell you the tale, but I think I’d best attend to our home before it burns down, aye?” He winked at me and I blinked back at him, awestruck.

  Our home. Not dead.

  My mind could not comprehend what was happening and I watched helplessly as he turned toward the cabin. Smoke spilled out the door and across the deck, its black and grey clouds hovering in the moonlight. Fear gripped me as he approached the building.

  “Wait!” I shouted and he turned to look at me. “No, don’t. Let it burn. I don’t care. I won’t lose you again.” I tried to stand up but didn’t have the strength, and instead sat shaking as tears started flowing over my dirty cheeks once again. He came back and held my hands, his face tender but his voice firm.

  “You will not lose me again. I’ll never let that happen if it is within my power, I swear to you. I couldn’t stand it myself any more than you could, trust me.”

  He kissed me softly and I believed him, the spark of hope lighting in my chest. He disappeared into the cabin, one hand over his mouth. One by one, he opened all of the windows and the front door, darting back out to the deck for gulps of fresh air from time to time. Finally, he came back to sit down next to me, satisfied.

  “It will take a bit to air out completely, but the fire is out. ’Tis naught but smoke now.” I nodded and told him about the fire extinguisher. “You’re a right brave lass, more so than I even knew before. Well done, my love.”

  He pulled me onto his lap, holding me close. I sat there for a long time with my head on his shoulder, letting the shock and sheer happiness at being with him wash over me, restoring my soul. I finally sat up enough to look at him, his face glowing with wonder and excitement in the moonlight.

  “Are you really here?” I asked. “And now?” His body seemed real enough beneath me but I was afraid to believe it.

 
; “I know it’s hard to imagine, but it’s true.” The corners of his eyes crinkled merrily as he grinned at me.

  “But what happened? Where have you been? Here at the cabin by yourself the whole time?” The idea that he’d been a day’s drive away for the last six months while I’d been agonizing over his loss was more than my mind could bear and a note of accusation crept into my voice. He shook his head, his forehead creased in a frown, his eyes reflecting the pain I’d lived through.

  “Of course not. I would have done anything in my power to come to you. You cannot think…” His voice trailed off and his gaze bored into me, demanding an answer. I shook my head and he breathed a heavy sigh. He stroked my arm and continued softly, his voice wavering.

  “No, when you were taken away before my very eyes, there was naught that I could do. I tore the place apart like a mad man, crazed with anger and pain. But it didn’t matter.” He broke off, unable to speak for a moment, fighting for control. He squeezed my hand and swallowed hard, his face etched with the agony of that moment. “I stayed here at the cabin for the longest time, hoping that by the grace of God, somehow you’d come back.”

  “You didn’t go back to transporting then?” I had always pictured him that way, moving on with his duties of taking souls to heaven. Surprise flickered across his face.

  “No, love. Once I found you… no, I never went back. I was not fit for it any longer. My every thought was of you and you alone.” He stopped then and kissed me, the desperate longing clear in his embrace. My heart ached at the thought of him living through the same kind of torment I’d known. He pulled away and gathered my hands in his own, stroking them as he continued.