A Man's Heart

by Lori Copeland

  “One,” he corrected. “Our Livvy isn’t the ordinary little girl.”

  Jules laughed, her gaze straying back to the miniature Sophie trying to straddle the bicycle. Livvy wasn’t the average child. She was smart, articulate and far older in reasoning skills than in years. Sophie would be so proud of her …

  The sun cast long shadows across the park as Crystal spread a large blanket on the ground and the party attendees stretched out, exhausted. Livvy fell instantly asleep. Jules dozed and listened to Adan tell Ethan horse stories. Cruz lay to Jules’s right, hat tipped over his face. Rolling to her side, she studied him: the outline of his strong features, the dark curly hair. She imagined who their children would have favored, and Cruz won hands down. Dark hair, nut brown skin, eyes the color of espresso. By now they would have had one—possibly with a second on the way. She didn’t want a lot of years between the children. She wanted them to grow up close. Of course that would mean braces, cars and college relatively close together—and if they were daughters, weddings would factor into the budget.

  She tightened her fist that wanted to stray to his jet black hair, shiny in the sun. Rolling back over, she fought the deepening ache. Lord, I wish Sophie could be here to witness this family unity.

  When she opened her eyes again she started. It was almost dark. Crystal, Cruz, Ethan and Livvy slept soundly, the kids sprawled against Crystal and Adan.

  Sitting up, she touched her hair as Cruz stirred. Tipping his hat back, he glanced at his watch. “What time is it?”

  “Almost nine o’clock.”

  Livvy shifted and opened her eyes. When she spotted the new pink bicycle, she sprang to her feet and ran to the new gift.

  Crystal, Adan and Ethan stirred. Adan checked the time. “Holy cow. It’s late! If we’re going by the hospital we have to get cracking.”

  A scramble ensued to pack up lunch remains and the new toys. Daylight faded; street lamps in the park began to light.

  Shaking out the blanket, Crystal folded the mat while Jules wrestled the pink bike away from Livvy. The little girl broke into tears.

  Cruz appeared, scooping the child into his arms. “Hey guys! We have one more game before the party’s over!”

  Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look. Setting Livvy on her feet, Cruz then opened a large bag and produced four big bottles.

  A smile broke across Crystal’s features. “Bubbles.”

  “I know what Livvy likes.” He distributed the party favor and motioned for the others to follow. The summer evening contributed warm air and softly lit lampposts to the festivities. Jules always favored this particular park; she and Cruz had spent many hours here tossing a ball around, lying on a blanket in the sun on mild spring days, planning a future together.

  Cruz distributed the soap bubbles. Did Jules remember the hours we’ve spent in this park? The sound of Jules’s delight echoed in his ears as one particular afternoon came to mind. They had gone for a walk in this same park, holding hands. Dusk was about to overtake them, but mid-way through the walk they encountered a tiny kitten, obviously lost from its owner.

  “Oh,” Jules had said as she scooped to rescue the frightened animal. She hugged the cat to her chest. “Areyou lost, little one?”

  “Don’t even think it,” Cruz teased. “You have five barn cats right now. Pop would skin you alive if you bring one more home.”

  “I don’t have a single one like this one.” She flashed a grin, stroking the kitty. “But when we marry I’d like to have at least six”.

  He grasped her behind her neck and pulled her forward to meet his kiss. When their lips parted he whispered, “When we’re married you can have anything you’d like.”

  The owner came running, and Jules handed the kitten over. “It’s so sweet.”

  The relieved woman smiled. “It is precious.”

  “And so are you,” Cruz taunted as they walked on.

  “Howprecious?” she teased back.

  His face sobered and his arm tightened around her neck. “You’re the most important thing in my life.” He drew her close and. kissed, her long and. thoroughly.

  Jules glanced up when she felt his gaze on her. For a moment their eyes touched, and then he turned and led the gang to a lamp post beneath a flower garden and paused. After opening Livvy’s bubbles for her, he blew several into the light. The big fat shiny globes danced and skipped around the flowerbed, illuminated by the light post.

  What was that look? Had he remembered the times they’d spent in this park—crazy in love? Everywhere she looked she saw memories.

  The others uncapped their bottles and blew into the wands. Soon the entire flower garden shimmered with iridescent globes, skipping across the tops of coral impatiens and purple pansies. Jules reveled in the children’s enchanted cries as bubbles floated overhead, landing on hair, hats, shoulders and faces. Ethan paused and stuck out his tongue to catch a cylinder globe. The soft lamp light turned the world into hundreds of glistening bouncing bubbles.

  Jules was about to lift her plastic wand and blow when she stopped, drinking in the surreal scene. Children laughing; family bonding. Cruz. Laughing, helping Livvy chase floating bubbles. A child’s delighted cries of joy.

  This was the life she wanted, the life she’d always envisioned. Where and why had her dreams gone astray? Her thoughts were suddenly filled with clarity. She had allowed fear to rule her life, not God.

  The thought was so heavy she sat down on the end of the brick flower encasement.

  Cruz glanced over. “Are you okay?”

  Nodding, she slowly capped the bubble bottle. “Just got a little light-headed.” Reality sometimes did that to a person.

  On the walk to the vehicles, Cruz said, “I know the kids are tired, but we have to run them by the hospital for a few minutes. Sophie’s expecting us.”

  “Sure, we’ll follow you. Cruz?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you think Sophie is serious about discontinuing her treatments? Don’t you think she’s just down right now and can’t see any hope? There’s always hope.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know, Jules. I argued with her — pleaded with her to give it a little more time, but you and I both know the cancer was too far spread. She’s right. Even if she continues the treatments, she’ll only have a few months at most. I can’t wish that on her.”

  “But we can’t lose her either.”

  “Are we given a choice?” His gaze met hers. “I don’t know what life will be like without her, can’t even imagine not having her around.”

  She reached out to touch his arm. “I’ve tried to picture it, and I can’t. The world won’t be the same.”

  He nodded. “I know you love her.”

  Jules’s eyes must have mirrored her thoughts. As deeply and unequivocally as I love you.

  He glanced over. “You holding up all right?”

  Her spirits soared. Concern filled his voice. “I have my days. Losing Pop and Sophie so close — sometimes I can’t hold back the tears. You?”

  He shrugged and parroted, “I have my days. We’ll make it through this.”

  They reached the vehicles and paused. Cruz opened the truck door. “We’ll meet you at the hospital. Do you want us to take the children?”

  Yawning, Crystal pleaded off. “Jules, can you and Cruz take them? I have a splitting headache. I want to go home and soak in a hot tub.” She glanced at Adan. “Can you run me home?”

  “Sure, be glad to. I spent the morning with Sophie.”

  That left Jules to accompany Cruz.

  Later they pulled up to the hospital and carried the children up to Sophie’s room. She was sleeping when they arrived. Jules stepped to the bedside and gently whispered, “Hey, sleepyhead.”

  Sophie opened her eyes and smiled. “You’ve brought my babies. Happy birthday, Livvy.”

  Livvy squirmed, trying to go to her mother. Wincing, Sophie shifted. Jules drew the child back. “No. Let her stay.”
r />   “But she’ll hurt your incision —”

  “Doesn’t matter. Settle her gently.”

  Cruz lifted the little girl onto the bed, and then set Ethan beside her with the order, “You guys sit still.”

  Livvy patted Sophie’s hand. “Mommy has owwee?”

  Her mother nodded. “A tiny one. Did you have a big day?”

  “Uh-huh. I make bubbles.”

  “Really? I know how you love to blow pretty bubbles. And what else?”

  “She got a new bike,” Ethan said. “She can’t ride it.”

  “A new bike? Hmm—that must be from Uncle Cruz?”

  “And cake!”

  “White cake?”

  “With white icing! And her bike has a horn!”

  Livvy nodded. “My bicycle has a horn.”

  “A real horn? Sweet. Well, young lady, it just so happens that I have something special for you.” Sophie motioned for Jules to open the metal drawer sitting beside the hospital bed. She did, and took out the package she’d wrapped in child’s paper, earlier in the week. Sophie presented the gift to Livvy.

  Ripping into the paper, the child broke into wreaths of smiles. “A Cinderella Barbie!”

  Grinning, her mother nodded. “Just what you ordered.”

  “Thank you, Mommy!” Livvy hugged Sophie’s neck tightly. “I love you! When are you coming home?”

  “Mommy can’t come home right now.” Sophie met Jules’s eyes over the child’s head. The drained expression broke Jules’s heart. “I’m sorry that I had to miss your fun, but I was with you in my heart all day long.”

  Jules’s heart ached when she thought how Sophie had spent the day. Praying for her little girl, wishing … She reached for Sophie’s hand. “Next year Mommy will be there to blow bubbles with you.”

  Sophie gave her a sharp look.

  But Jules held firm. Sophie had to fight and fight hard. Was her little daughter’s third birthday motivation enough to make her best friend battle even harder?

  As Cruz had so eloquently noted, God still had the final say. Jules determined to hold on to the assurance.

  Chapter 24

  Sophie’s battle ended at 12:05 p.m. a week later. Not by cessation of treatments — she’d struggled to the end, but from a sudden pulmonary embolism. Cruz and Adan were beside her at the last; Jules had driven like a maniac to reach the hospital when she got the call Sophie was being rushed into surgery to insert a vein filter to block the clot, but time ran out. Jules cried for hours, knowing that Sophie had wanted Ethan and Livvy at her side when the end came, and Jules had failed her.

  Cruz, Adan and she had stood in the quiet hallway and held each other.

  “She can’t be gone,” Jules whispered. But inside the room where Sophie’s battle had raged, nurses were preparing her for the cold journey to the morgue.

  Cruz’s hold tightened on her and Jules wept uncontrollably in his arms.

  Sunlight spilled over the potato fields when Cruz drove into the farm lot early the next morning. Jules had been up for hours; sleep eluded her. She’d prayed for sleep when she came home from the hospital so she could awaken from the nightmare, but relief failed to come.

  Cruz tapped on the back screen and she motioned him into the house. He stepped inside, face somber. Her heart turned over at the sight of worn lines etching his forehead. The feel of his arms around her as she sobbed last night struggled with the stoic look on his face this morning. He’d aged overnight. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “I’m not hungry.” He reached for a coffee cup and filled it. The familiar gesture tugged at her heartstrings. How many times over the years had he made himself at home in this kitchen?

  Crystal wandered into the room, yawning. Early morning could not detract from her natural beauty. Her skin glowed, cheeks naturally pinked.

  Jules absently reached to smooth her tousled mop. She’d rolled out of bed and headed for the coffee pot around four that morning.

  Leaning against the old counter, Cruz met Jules’s eyes over the rim of his cup. “You okay?”

  Nodding, she looked away. She’d woken Crystal and told her about the death and they’d had a good cry. She hesitated to speak openly of the death yet; words only made it real.

  Crystal heated water in the microwave for herbal tea, and then sat down at the table. For a moment, silence covered the room. Each appeared lost in thought. Finally Cruz spoke. “Someone has to tell the children.” They hadn’t prepared the children for death, praying it was too soon.

  Jules reached for a tissue when tears spurted. He glanced at Crystal. “Can you help me, Crystal?”

  “I’ll do anything, Cruz, but telling Ethan and Livvy that their mama is gone should come from you and Jules.” She reached for Jules’s hand and squeezed it. “They love ‘Aunt Jube’ and the news might be easier to accept coming from you.”

  Jules brought the tissue to her nose. Crystal was right. She’d developed an uncanny sensitivity when it came to the children’s needs. “Where’s Adan?”

  “He can’t handle this.” Cruz glanced away but not before Jules detected moisture in his eyes. “He’s taking … her death pretty hard.”

  Crystal rose. “I’ll dress and go over. He doesn’t need to be alone right now. Is he sleeping?”

  Cruz shook his head. “He hasn’t slept all night.”

  Her sister left the room and Jules stood. “The children should be awake anytime.”

  He nodded. “Should we tell them in there—here?”

  “Let’s keep a normal schedule. Let them come to us.”

  Within ten minutes Jules heard the patter of bare feet on wood floors. Livvy was out of her single bed, heading for the kitchen and breakfast. The child, though exceptionally bright, would have no idea what life changing news awaited her this morning. She burst into the kitchen, dragging a blanket, her Cinderella Barbie, all giggles and warm fuzzy smiles. Her face lit when she spotted Cruz and she went directly into his arms.

  He caught her up, lifting her over his head, inducing a round of giggles.

  Jules was drawn back to the day she had come home. Sophie had done the same thing; lifting her baby daughter over her head and got a face full of oatmeal. Jules watched the playful antics, recognizing Sophie’s infectious spirit still flourished in her little girl.

  Minutes later a tousle-haired Ethan arrived, joining the rowdy activities. Rounds of tickling and giggling slowed the inevitable, and Jules was grateful. How did they tell two young children that their mother was never coming home?

  Finally Jules took control of the situation and sat Livvy in her chair. Cruz settled Ethan at the kitchen table. Sobering now, the two adults faced the children. Jules reached and took hold of Cruz’s hand. He didn’t pull away.

  He began. “I have some sad—”

  “… but happy news,” Jules interjected. Kids didn’t understand death and dying. They had to make this acceptable to their limited knowledge.

  Cruz glanced at her, frowning.

  She mustered a smile. “Happy in so many ways, Cruz.”

  He nodded. “Aunt Jube is right. It is happy news, but a little sad too.”

  Ethan and Livvy gazed back, intent.

  “This morning, very early, God took your mommy to live in heaven.”

  Ethan cocked his head. “Heaven? Where the angels live?”

  Cruz smiled. “Where the angels live.”

  Kneeling beside the table, Jules reached for Ethan’s hand. “It’s a special honor to go to heaven. Mama is going to be very happy there. No more hospitals, or sickness or pain.”

  Livvy reached her hands out and wiggled her fingers. Jules rose to fix a bowl of Cheerios.

  “Can Mama come home now?” Ethan asked.

  “No, son. Mama has to stay in heaven now.” Cruz looked away.

  Livvy’s smile faded. “Uncle Cruz cry?”

  “He’s a tiny sad this morning.” She patted the child’s head and spoke to Ethan’s concern. “Your mother didn’t want to l
eave you ever, but she knew that someday you’ll go to her.”

  Ethan’s brow knitted. “She isn’t sick anymore?”

  “No, she isn’t. She’s very happy.”

  “She won’t ever come home?”

  “No. She can’t ever come home.”

  The boy appeared to digest the news. “Does she have those things in her arm in heaven?”

  “Needles? No, she doesn’t have anything in her arms that hurts anymore. No more medicine, no more tubes or treatments. That’s why this is sad but happy news.”

  Cruz knelt beside the child. “It’s okay to cry, buddy.”

  Ethan peered at him. “I don’t want to cry. Mama’s not sick anymore. She doesn’t have all those needles in her arms, and she’s really happy.” He pursed his lips, as if deep in thought. “I think she wants to stay in heaven.”

  Hot tears rolled down Jules’s cheeks. “I think so too.” If only an adult had a child’s innocent wisdom.

  Ethan nodded. “It’s like when Speck got runded over by a truck. He gets to live up in heaven now.”

  “That’s right. Just like the time your ole dog got hit by that truck,” Cruz said.

  “Mama said ole Speck was in a better place and we could cry, but not for long. Old Speck wouldn’t want to come back if he could.”

  “Your mother was right; she and Speck are in an extraordinary place now,” Jules confided in a hushed whisper as she set Livvy’s cereal in front of her. “She’s special now; very special.” Not that Jules could think of a single instance when Sophie wasn’t unique.

  Ethan sat for a moment, and then said, “Did she wanna go?”

  “Oh yes — she wanted to go,” Jules assured him. “She didn’t want to leave you and Livvy, but she knew that Aunt Jube and Uncle Cruz would take good care of you until someday we’ll join her up there.” She glanced at Cruz. “Someday, Uncle Cruz and I — Crystal and Adan, we’ll all go to meet her, and that will be a really joyful time.”

  “And me too?”

  She turned to touch the tip of Livvy’s nose. “And you too.”

  The little girl with Sophie’s eyes and features nearly took Jules’s breath when she said, “Mommy’s an angel now.”