Piper, Once & Again

by Caroline E. Zani

  Piper giggled and pulled the linens back. She sat up and felt nauseous again. She held her belly as she got out of bed and looked at her husband. “Maybe sooner than later, my love.”

  He smiled at her and a heart full of love jumped in his chest. She was the very sunlight to him, the lifeblood by which his own depended. Would he ever have to endure life without her? The thought chilled him as he silently hoped not, as he was certain he could not. He blew her a kiss from across their small bedchamber and finished pulling on his boots. He headed out to feed the animals and to begin a day that would last until the sun set in the western sky, reminding him that sleep was a necessity whether he liked it or not.

  Piper busied herself early by dressing, sweeping the floors, and feeding the hens that roosted in the tree at the south side of their house. She came back into the house and lit a fire in the small stove Vander had given to her as a wedding gift. He had traveled for three days to the city to purchase it, causing the young women of the village to whisper ( some more loudly than others ) that he was getting cold feet, what else could explain his absence so close to the wedding? No one was more surprised than Piper to see the black iron box in their new home. How hard had he worked to earn enough money to purchase such a luxury? She put water in the kettle, placed it on the stove, and reached for the ends of the previous day’s bread. She sliced them thinly and added a helping of milk and butter to soften them, and tossed in just a pinch of sugar. She mixed this together in a small pot on the stove and kept it warm until Vander came back in the house for a quick breakfast before heading out to the fields. Hands never idle, she worked one chore into another, reaching for her kettle again. From the rafter, she took two sprigs of lavender and placed them into a small glass jar, added the honey she bought at market the week before, and replaced the lid. She smiled at the thought of the wonderful cakes this mixture would make for Vander’s coming birthday. When he came back in, he was holding his hat in his hands, the hat filled with berries and grapes for his wife to add to the day’s meals. She celebrated this as a gift, her hands rising to her chest in surprise.

  “So many!” she exclaimed.

  “It’s been a strong season; God willing next year will be, too,” he said.

  She took a few of the blackberries and raspberries and topped their breakfast with them and added another tiny pinch of sugar on top. They sat together, and though Vander was ravenous as usual, Piper only picked at her food, her stomach turning with the thought of actually putting it into her mouth. She managed to eat just a bit, with Vander searching her face, hoping to see that she was all right. His nervous smile was far from the comfort it was intended to be. She just tried to avoid his gaze as she walked about the house, fussing with nothing and everything.

  Before he left for the bulk of the day’s work, he reached around his wife from behind and placed his large and gentle hands on her belly as she stood at the window. She jumped out of surprise, then softened, leaning her head back onto his chest. He bent down and kissed the side of her neck, reminding her that it was his favorite place to be, right in the hollow of her collar bone where he could feel her pulse against his cheek. She reached with one arm around the back of his neck and stroked his hair, whispering that she couldn’t wait to see their child in his arms.

  Vander, with a start, left in a hurry as he realized he had lingered longer than usual and there was much to do to ready the farm for the imminent harvest.

  The days at the farm were busy for Piper. After mixing her dough for the day’s bread, she set it to rise on the stillwarm oven, covering it with her apron. She headed out the front door to her garden which was set in front of the house away from their voracious animals. A lattice-work fence fashioned the branches surrounding her carrots, potatoes, leeks, onions, tomatoes, garlic, and cabbage. She spent the morning pulling weeds and checking for signs of rabbits and other intruders. The early September sun warmed her arms and neck and made her happy. She hummed as she left the garden and walked to the stable yard to give the uprooted sweet clover to the newly weaned lambs. She loved their little faces, and it sometimes made her sad to think that they were born only to serve people. She consoled herself with the fact that she and Vander had no plans to slaughter and eat their sheep. They wanted only their milk and wool. The adorable pink piglets on the other hand … she stopped herself because lately the oddest ideas could bring tears she didn’t understand. She stood with her face to the sun and let it warm her, comfort her, and she wished the nausea would pass. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she looked out to the fields, trying to catch a glimpse of Vander and the horses working the new plot he was hoping to plant with a late crop of root vegetables to sell at market. She couldn’t see over the rise beyond the meadow where he likely was, and so decided she had better put together a midday meal for him. She thought the walk out to the fields might do her some good. She walked back toward the house singing a haunting song from her sad childhood. It made her think of her mother lying sick on her bed, her father trying to pray the disease from her wasting body. And this time the tears did come, cleansing the sadness from her past, and leaving her feeling refreshed and ready for whatever lay ahead.

  Tämä ikivanha lupaus

  Suurin koskaan tiedä - henki puhelut

  Ja kuuntelen sinua

  Sinun siniset silmät paloi

  Minun muisti elämien sitten

  Odotan sinua

  Etsi sinua valossa

  Salvia, rovio, jäätyneiden järvien

  Odotan sinua

  Minä odotan sinua

  Vuosisatojen avautua ja minä

  Odotan sinua

  Odottaa sinua valo

  She gathered together some cheese, grapes, wine, and a jug of water fresh from the well, and put them in the basket she usually took to market on Saturdays. On her way back outside, she stopped in the dooryard and picked a few of her favorite gladiolus stems and tucked them into the basket, their pink blossoms adorning this sweet gesture with the romance that was interrupted earlier that morning.

  She opened the wooden gate at the back of the stable yard and stepped through quickly so as not to let the kids out, remembering how hard it had been to herd them back in just a few days ago. Loose livestock draws wolves from the deep woods surrounding their many fields and they could not afford to put their livelihood in harm’s way. In the beginning, Piper had often voiced her concern with living so far from the village, but trusted Vander’s good sense; slowly she had realized how wonderful it was to have this place to themselves. She lifted her dress and stepped high through the tall grass until she reached the path Vander’s cart created with its heavy wooden wheels. She took a deep breath and listened to the birdsongs in the fields. She walked along slowly, knowing that she was early with the midday meal and didn’t want to interrupt her husband’s work. He was determined to make the farm a lucrative business for them, something so many told him was impossible because most families grew almost everything they needed themselves. He planned to someday have enough produce to sell at the markets in the city, an idea that most people raised an eyebrow at, the city being days away.

  It had been a long while since she had come out this far. Vander did most of the farming himself, his brothers and father occasionally coming out to help fix a broken wheel spoke or to look at a stone-bruised hoof. She would like to ride out here in the pasture with Vander, but lately what had been the daily routine when they were children seemed now to be a frivolous use of time. As she reached the rise, the stone wall looking much taller than it had from the stable yard, she could hear Vander talking to the horses, telling them that it was almost time for a break and a cool drink at the brook. They snorted as if to say, “Almost time? I’m tired,” but they were in their prime, and Vander would never work them hard enough to even challenge their stamina. Each horse was immensely powerful, and together they were an incredible team of muscle and loyalty.

  The scent of lavender reached Piper’s nose, and she inhaled deeply, wonderi
ng where it was coming from. She had planted a few young plants that spring, which she had traded for some goat milk at the market; but those were acres away in her dooryard. As she drew closer to the stone wall at the top of the hill, she began to see purple, lots of purple. She took a few more steps and gasped. Her hand loosened its grip, and she dropped her basket, spilling the water all over her husband’s food. She didn’t notice. As far as her eyes could reach was a sea of lavender. Her breath caught in her chest, her heart leapt and fluttered at the sight. Waves of purple crested and rolled in the warm breeze. Her mind shouted questions as she stood motionless. Why hasn’t he told me about this? What is he planning to do with so much lavender? She loved the color, so pure, and the fragrance was unmatched in its ability to soothe and calm.

  “Piper!” Vander’s voice was excited and surprised, reaching her ears, but she didn’t hear him. She was in shock. He steadied his team, wrapping the reins around the brake on his cart and asking them to stand. He jogged up the hill and swung one leg over the stone wall and then the other. “Piper, I wanted to surprise you. Uh … are you … surprised? Piper?”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off of the sea of ethereal purple so immense that she was having a hard time comprehending its size, let alone its purpose. He placed his hands on her shoulders and said,

  “For you, my love. It’s all for you.”

  She slowly tore her gaze from the most gorgeous sight she had ever seen and blinked back tears. She looked up at her husband. From his back pocket he drew a handful of lavender stems and held them out to his wife.

  “For you. Everything for you,” Vander said, his eyes searching Piper’s.

  Piper took the bouquet and held it to her heart. She noticed the color closely matched the dress she was wearing. The material for the dress had belonged to her mother but it was never put to use, having been purchased a year before she passed. Now the dress fluttered in the breeze and as Piper looked past her husband’s tall frame to the acres beyond, she stifled tears.

  “Vander, I don’t … I … what am I going to do with that much lavender?”

  He leaned back and released a hearty laugh of relief. She had a way of making him smile, too. “I mean, these herbs, well, they are going to be sold. In the city, to a perfumery. And the money, well, the money is the part that’s for you.”

  It was her turn to laugh. She knew he was either nervous or drunk when his words made no sense. And as far as she knew he hadn’t had any wine that morning. “What do I need money for? We have everything we need when we go to market with the crops and we have more than most. I don’t understand.”

  He took her hand and led her to the stone wall, then bent and scooped her up and stepped over the stone wall with her in his strong arms. She giggled and played with his hair, damp with sweat. He walked slowly through the rows of purple spikes until they were surrounded. Gently lowering himself to his knees, he placed her on the ground between two rows. Together they sat in this sweet-smelling secret ocean so far from anyone they knew, just the two of them. He looked into her eyes and tucked her hair back behind her ears.

  “Piper, there’s something I never told you, and … and I thought I never would … but, well, you’re my wife and I want to tell you everything.” His voice was serious and low, and it made her realize that no matter what he was about to say, she was going to be all right. They would be all right. “A long time ago, your father … he pulled me off my father’s fish cart one day and pushed me against the wheel when I was helping to unload it at the market. He told me that I had better have good intentions toward his daughter, that she was all that was left of his wife and she deserved a good man. I tried to tell him that I loved you from the first time I saw you that day in the market, how I wanted to be your friend, but I was too shy, and I didn’t think you would talk to me. But I was scared. He was so much bigger than me then and his eyes were fierce. He told me that the man his daughter would marry would do more for her than her father ever could. She was not meant to live in poverty; she would have proper shoes and would sleep through the night without night terrors making her call out to her dead mother. She would have a good life, a life he couldn’t give her. He told me that if he had more money he would have been able to bring your mother to the city doctors and they might have saved her life. Ever since that day I have tried to show him that I am a hard worker, that my family is decent and honest. I wanted him to know that I would take care of his daughter until the day I die.” Tears were streaming down his cheeks leaving little rivers of clean skin in their path, dirty droplets falling onto the powdery earth below.

  Piper gently wiped his dirty face and kissed his dry, hot lips. She rose to her knees and held her love’s head to her bosom. She didn’t know she could love someone so much. All around them the lavender swayed gently back and forth in a rhythm not unlike the rhythm of life itself: sometimes giving, sometimes taking away.

  Chapter 13

  TWO DAYS IN THE Hospital de la Timone in Marseille was more than Piper could bear; so, at the end of the second day, she asked to be discharged. The doctor and nurses all told her she really ought to stay and rest, that she had lost a lot of blood. One joked that Americans were always in such a hurry and she wondered aloud where they were always in a hurry to get to. Piper ignored the remarks and stated simply, “We’re here on business, and I cannot stay another day.”

  The nurse turned her back to Piper and said over her shoulder, “Madam, hasn’t your mother ever told you that patience is a virtue?”

  Piper looked at the redheaded nurse with disgust and replied, “I’m not feeling very virtuous today.”

  With that, the nurse excused herself, and Piper was alone in the room with the afternoon sun glinting through the window and falling in long rectangles across her bed. She pulled back the sheets and swung her long legs over the side of the bed and let her feet feel the cold vinyl floor. She stood up, and feeling a little shaky, grabbed the bed rail and steadied herself. She looked for her clothes and shoes and hurried into the bathroom before anyone else could come in and slow down her progress. In the bathroom, she washed her face with Castile soap and cool water. She looked deep into her eyes in the small mirror over the sink and noticed a hint of wrinkles around her tired eyes. She brushed her hair hastily, not making much improvement but feeling the need to try anyway. She dressed quickly and went back out to the small hospital room that now felt like a cell. Once she was intent on doing something, not much could stop her. She rummaged through her purse, found her cell phone, and dialed Paul. There was no service. Of course. She dialed the nurse’s station from the phone by her bed and asked how to dial out. With a shaking hand she punched the numbers, keeping time with her racing heart.

  “Honey, I need to leave now. Will you come get me?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Hi Sweets, I’m with Mr. Porrazzo at his vineyard, remember?”

  She sucked in air that seemed to weigh a ton.

  “Oh, I forgot,” she said, deflated. “I … I want to leave now. I’ll just call a cab and….” Her voice trailed off as tears threatened to fall.

  “Piper, no. The doctor said you should be there for at least one or two more days. Don’t you think you should stay? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

  “No. I’m leaving.” For the first time since she met Paul, she hung up without saying good-bye and I love you. She tossed her phone back into her purse, gathered her belongings, and hurried through the door. She left behind in the wastebasket a crumpled piece of paper on which she had scribbled the night before when the painkillers had worn off and she couldn’t sleep.

  I wait here for time to unravel its truth

  And deliver me into your arms again

  You call to me through the rain

  The cold breath of night on my skin

  Many times the end promised me peace

  My thirst for your voice unrelenting

  Why won’t you come to me in this place

  Lessons to be learned and prom
ises to keep

  My lifeblood flows and begets not life but pain

  My love, come for me and fill my empty heart.

  When she arrived at the inn, Piper took a hot bath and scrubbed her skin until it was raw. She soaked and cried and prayed. When she was finished, she toweled off, put on one of Paul’s Aerosmith t-shirts and ran a comb through her hair. She looked for her iPod, but not finding it, decided she wanted to feel the pain this time and let it work its way through her like a bitter pill. Her pain turned quickly to anger. Why would God do this to me? To us? Aren’t we decent, hardworking people? Wouldn’t we make loving, responsible parents? What is the purpose of life without children to pass your values, love and history on to? Why did this have to happen now? If they had stayed home, she thought, she would still be pregnant and would have soon known about it. How excited she would have been to see the look on her husband’s face when she told him the news he had waited years to hear. With her tears and energy spent, she stared at the wall as she lay curled up on her side, clutching her pillow. She heard her phone ring, but she didn’t even consider getting up to answer it. She knew it would be Paul but didn’t want his sympathy or his apologies. She wanted to be alone; in her solitude, she felt whole, the feeling familiar and comforting. She wished she had her notebook but realized she had left it at the hospital in her haste to leave. She exhaled deeply and scolded herself aloud, “When will you learn to take a breath and be patient?”

  Deciding then that tea might make her feel a little better she shrugged off the feeling that she deserved punishing. She called the innkeeper’s office and asked if someone could bring her some tea with honey. While she waited, she combed her drying hair and sprayed it with a glossy humectant to keep it from getting unruly. She stared at herself in the mirror and felt a strange sensation. Who am I? She’d often joked with Paul when he cooked for her or picked up his own dirty underwear and socks. “Who are you,” she would joke, “and what have you done with my husband?” But this time she was not in a joking mood. Who am I and what does this journey mean, this life?