“Taylor?”
“Yes, Meg?”
“Do you remember that Thanksgiving in Italy? The first one?”
It had been the first holiday after Meg’s mother, Annie, had died. They’d been at the villa in Italy, trying to reconstruct their lives without her.
“I do!” Betta said. “I remember the dinner we fixed. It was my first Thanksgiving.”
“I thought we’d never find all the things we needed for dinner,” Taylor added with a small smile. “And I was terrified when we did because I’d never cooked a turkey before in my life. As far as I’d been concerned, they magically stuffed and roasted themselves and jumped onto the platter on the table!”
“And we actually talked Mother Katerina into letting us do a report on fixing the dinner for extra credit,” Meg said.
“I was sure that the next morning everyone would be sick,” Taylor said. “And I knew Mother Katerina would make me pay for it.”
“But no one got sick and I remember it every year. I think it was when we began living again after Mom…” Meg’s voice trailed off, aware that she had forgotten that this Thanksgiving was only the beginning of dealing with the loss of Laura.
“It’s a good memory, Meg. Thanks for reminding me.”
In the silence that settled over them, a sudden burst of loud music came from Annie’s room down the hall. “What in the world?” Meg started to stand when Annie and Kat appeared in the wide doorway.
They were wearing matching red sweatshirts, Kat’s hanging nearly to the floor. Annie had on pink leotards and her tap shoes, to match Kat’s Maryjanes. The two of them were carrying batons that they were using as canes.
Without introduction, the two girls put their ‘canes’ on the floor and tilted back their heads to put their noses in the air, then began to sing “We’ve Got Elegance” from Hello, Dolly. By the time they finished singing, the adults were laughing and, for a few moments, the world was right again.
Chapter 24
The church was filled with family and friends. His daughters and their husbands sat in the front row with Sean, Maria, Rosina, and Beth—all the people who had been closest to her. The priest stepped back to make way for Taylor to speak.
He looked out at the congregation and made eye contact with each of the people dear to him. He cleared his throat to speak...an almost impossible task with the lump still in his chest. As he opened his mouth, the door of the church opened and the words he planned to say disappeared. He froze in place as a figure came through the door and slowly made way up the aisle...painfully thin, moving slowly, red hair dull but unmistakable. “Laura…Laura?” he whispered thinking he was seeing a ghost, but the apparition became more real and more solid with every step that brought her closer. People turned to look and a gasp went through the church as she was recognized.
He took the steps that closed the gap between them and took her face in his hands, his eyes looking into hers. “Laura? It’s you? I’m not imagining things?” he whispered, as if to speak aloud would break the spell.
The church bells began to ring…
…he woke, trembling, with the sound of her name on his lips. A dream. Only a dream. The church bells were the clamoring of his alarm, waking him to face the worst day of his life.
* * *
Looking in the mirror, Taylor pulled on the dark suit coat and straightened the tasteful gray tie. He didn’t really recognize the man looking back at him. This man was old, the streaks of white at his temples had widened into wings and his eyes were shadowed with grief.
Today he would have to admit that she was never coming home. A memorial service—as if he didn’t remember her every minute and every sleepless night. His hands fisted with the helpless anger he’d felt every day since the phone call that had destroyed his perfect world.
“Daddy?”
Taylor turned to see Annie standing in the doorway. She looked so like her mother, tall and elegant, red hair shining. Maria had taken her shopping and she was dressed in a somber dark blue, so unlike the bright, gypsy colors she loved.
“It’s time to go, Daddy. The car is downstairs.”
“In a minute, Princess. Come here,” he said, holding out his arms to her. He enfolded her and rested his chin on her head. He breathed in the scent of her hair and felt a little peace come into his heart. “Annie? Are you all right? You don’t have to speak, you know. Everyone will understand.”
She stepped back from his arms and self-consciously straightened her dress. “I need to, Daddy. I have to.”
“Just let me know if you change your mind. It will be okay.”
She nodded wordlessly and turned to go. Taylor, following her, was suddenly overcome with a sense of déjà vu. How many wives was a man expected to bury? How many motherless daughters could he console?
* * *
The church was filled. So many people she had touched with her life wanted to say goodbye. Arrangements of calla lilies flanked the altar and the candles flickered in the cold winter light filtering through the stained glass windows. Taylor, too, felt cold, to the very center of his being. None of this had to do with his Laura. She loved sunshine and laughter and would have hated the tears.
Soft organ music faded as a man stepped to the front of the church. The music began again as their friend, Michael Crawford, began to sing. Taylor remembered Laura laughing at one of Michael’s stories at their last anniversary party and he wanted only to hear her laugh again.
When the music ended, the priest began the mass. Then it was time for those who wished to speak. Megan would begin, Taylor would go last.
Calmly, Megan came to the microphone. “Laura came to me when Taylor asked him to marry her. I was a thirteen-year-old waif who had lost her mother only a few months before. She wanted to make sure it was okay with me that she married him. I truly think if I had objected, she would have walked away, rather than hurt me. She never tried to take the place of my mother, offering herself as a friend and confidante, a big sister to me and to Betta. But she was our mother in every way that counted. And that didn’t change when our little sister was born. She just made more room in her heart for Annie and we never felt any the less loved. She was there for all three of us, through all the big and little events of our lives.” Pausing to compose herself, Meg looked at her little sister, as Betta placed an arm around Annie. “Annie, we can’t take her place, but you know that Betta and I are there for you and we’ll do our best to live up to her standards.” Her composure lasted only long enough to get her back to her seat, where her sisters held her while she cried.
Various friends and colleagues spoke, then it was Annie’s turn. Taylor had no idea what she was going to say. She hadn’t asked for advice or volunteered any information. He squeezed her hand as she stepped past him and she nodded, to let him know she was all right.
“My mother was all that was beautiful in my life. She was my champion, my friend, my enemy sometimes…” her voice broke but she went on, “I always knew she was there for me and I can’t imagine what it will be like to never see her again. When I was a little girl, she taught me about poetry. She loved writing haiku and taught the form to me. I’ve written one for her that I would like to read.”
She unfolded a piece of paper she’d kept hidden in her hand. Her voice was steady as she read.
Fly up little bird
to your new home free from pain.
We will remember.
Taylor stood and hugged her as she came back into their pew. “Thank you,” he whispered, “I love you.”
And then it was time for him to speak.
“I always believed that I would be the first one to pass on, or that Laura and I would leave this earth together. I never imagined that I would be the one left behind because I didn’t want to imagine it.
“We fell in love at first sight. We just weren’t smart enough to know it.
That only happened in fairy tales. She was in New Mexico, I was traveling. We’d only met because another reporter couldn’t do an interview. We couldn’t be in love.
“Our timing was way off. We lost another year because of misunderstandings and some truly horrible twists of fate. But each setback only made me love her more…with a love I will carry to my dying day.”
“She was my light and my heart and my hope. She left me with three wonderful daughters and a lifetime of memories. But nothing can replace the vibrant spirit she was in each of our lives. She has left us a legacy of love…let’s not waste it.”
As a final hymn was played, Taylor led his family from the church and into a new life they weren’t ready to begin.
Chapter 25
Two days after Thanksgiving, Laura was taken to “Ishmael’s” office for their daily meeting. When he arrived, after keeping her waiting, as had become his habit, he carried a newspaper tucked under his arm.
“Good morning, Laura. I trust you are finding your time in my wife’s quarters pleasant.”
“It’s certainly better than my cell and it’s nice to have someone to talk with to help the days pass.”
“Ah, yes, the tedium of waiting. I understand that. I’ve done some time in a cell myself and there’s my daily wait for you to come to your senses. I assume your answer is the same as always—a resounding no?”
“Exactly the same as it always will be. Since it won’t change the outcome, I prefer to be able to live with my own conscience.”
“The world is moving on without you, you know,” he said as he placed the previous day’s Times on his desk so she could see the front page. Below the fold was a headline.
REPORTER REMEMBERED
Below the headline was a photo of Taylor and Annie. Laura caught her breath as she reached out to run her fingers over the faces of those she loved so dearly. Taylor looked so worn and Annie so fragile! With trembling hands, she picked up the paper to read the details of her own memorial service and, despite her resolve, she could not hold back the tears as she read of their love and pain.
“And now they will begin to forget, Laura. They’ll go on with their lives and you’ll be missed, but every day it will get easier for them, every day they will think of you less and less. You are truly dead to them now.”
Laura looked up at him as he stood behind his desk. “You bastard. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever give you what you want! Especially now. You’ve left me with nothing to live for, so you might as well go ahead and kill me because I will never be of any use to you!”
Quietly, with great menace, he said, “Do not think I am not considering exactly that.”
When he’d left the room, she gave in to the pain and began to sob. Folding the paper to show only the photo, she went to follow the waiting guard back to her prison.
* * *
“Laura! What is it? What happened?” Amala reached out as Laura came into the room.
Still sobbing, she handed the paper to Amala as she collapsed to the floor, wrapping her arms around herself as the grief overcame her.
Amala sank down beside her and gathered her into her arms, as one would a grieving child. She murmured quiet words in her native language as she rocked the sobbing woman in her arms.
The language of sorrow was universal.
* * *
“Ishmael” made his report to the men who were waiting for results. “She won’t agree,” he said.
“Perhaps it is because you are killing her with kindness! We have heard she is now in your wife’s quarters.”
“I don’t believe in physical torture. You know that. I thought that perhaps she would respond well to kindness.”
“Perhaps it is time to write this off and kill her,” one of them said and others murmured in agreement.
“No. Give me more time,” “Ishmael” said with a note of desperation.
“We have time. What we need are results. If you have not brought her around to our thinking by the New Year, she will be executed as a message that we grow tired of waiting for our country to be returned to us.”
The group nodded and broke up. As “Ishmael” returned to his home, he knew that Laura would never give in. If he did not want her death on his hands, he would have to figure a way out that would protect them all.
Chapter 26
After the memorial service, Sean, Maria, and Beth returned to New Mexico. Megan resumed seeing patients, Betta and Chris waited for word that Rhen’s adoption was complete, and Annie went back to school. Only Taylor was left with nothing to do, nothing to fill his time.
When Annie was home he managed to keep up appearances, but during the long days he spent time closeted in his study. Every day, Rosina fixed him a lunch but he never ate it. If Rosina wasn’t around to answer the phone and take a message, he let it ring until the answering service picked it up. Annie would check it each afternoon and give him messages but he never returned any of the calls. His world narrowed to that small room, the family photo albums he repeatedly paged through, and his memories of Laura.
Two weeks after the funeral, Annie came to his door. “Dad, Abuelo just called. He says he has to talk to you and that I’m not to take ‘no’ for an answer. He’s waiting for you to call him back.”
“It’s all right, Annie. I’ll talk to him.” He looked up from his desk where he was pretending to work on the computer. “You must have studying to do. Finals soon?”
“I’m already into finals. School is out next week—it’s only two weeks ‘til Christmas.”
Taylor was startled. He knew time was passing but hadn’t kept track. Celebrating Christmas—celebrating anything— was the furthest thing from his mind.
“Already? I guess we need to make some plans. After I talk to Sean?”
“It’s a date, Dad.”
When she was gone, Taylor sat quietly thinking of Christmases past. Laura had always been the one to start the festivities. She could barely stand waiting until Thanksgiving was over before decorating the tree. She would spend hours shopping to find just the right gifts for everyone and then lock herself in her office to wrap them.
The phone interrupted his thoughts and he realized it was probably Sean so he picked up.
“Hello, Sean.”
“Did you plan on calling me back, Son, or were you still ignoring us?” His normally easygoing father-in-law sounded annoyed.
“I was going to call. I just had to finish up what I was doing.”
“From what Annie and Rosina tell us, you’re not doing much of anything.”
“Spying on me, Sean?”
“We’re concerned, Taylor. From what we’ve been told, you never leave the house, never speak to anyone. You haven’t spoken with us since the funeral.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to neglect you.”
“It’s not us I’m worried about, Taylor. It’s Annie.”
“Annie? She’s busy with school and finals.”
“That she is, but she’s also missing her mother. Did you know she talks to Maria nearly every day? She says with Laura gone and you acting the way you are that she doesn’t have anyone else.”
“I’m here all the time. I have dinner with her every night, breakfast with her every morning.”
“Then tell me what she’s doing. Can you? Did you know the Winter Dance is Saturday and she turned down a date to stay home with you?”
“What? She never said anything.”
“She wouldn’t, Taylor. She thinks she has to take care of you—says you’re disappearing before her eyes. She’s already lost her mother, now she’s frightened of losing you, too.”
“Sean, I had no idea…”
His voice gentled, Sean answered, “I know that, Taylor. And that’s just the problem. You have no idea of what’s happening to that precious child. You’ve wrapped yourself up so c
ompletely in your own grief that you’ve left no room for hers. What would have happened to Laura if Maria and I had done the same when Tomás died? Annie needs you.”
He was silent as he thought of the last few weeks. Sean was right. He’d physically been there for Annie, sharing meals, making sure she got to school. But they hadn’t talked about Laura.
“You’re right,” he said. “I guess I thought that just being here was enough.”
“I know it’s hard. But life does go on for the rest of us.”
“Any words of wisdom?”
“Talk to her, Taylor. Listen to what she’s saying—really listen, don’t just go through the motions. And you need to decide what you’re doing about Christmas. Maria and I would like you to come here. It won’t be good for just the two of you alone.”
“I don’t know, Sean. Let me think about it and talk to Annie. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”
“Do that, Taylor. And don’t forget that we still consider you our son, even without Laura. We love you.”
“Thanks. I know. I’ll call soon. My love to you both.” Hanging up the phone, Taylor took stock of his life. Running his hand over his head, he realized his hair had gotten long and shaggy. And when was the last time he’d bothered to shave? From the feel of the stubble on his face, it must have been at least three or four days.
Looking at the portrait of Laura on his desk, he said, “God, Laura, I miss you. Your dad is right. I’ve got to snap out of this. But how do I go on without you?”
He waited a moment for the answer he knew wouldn’t come, then headed down the hall to talk to his daughter.
Chapter 27
He knocked on Annie’s door and opened it at her muffled “Come in.”
'Til the End of Time Page 8
