“No need, Jim already started it.”
“Thanks, Jim.”
“Sure thing,” Jim nodded and turned my mother toward the gardens. They strolled over to the bench where I usually took my morning coffee and sat, their backs towards us.
“Let me help,” Aaron called as he started up the stairs.
I wanted to throw myself into his arms, but two things prevented me from doing this. First and foremost, my mother, and second – it would probably only result in me knocking him back down the stairs since the landing at the top wasn't very big and as he reached it I had to step back into the kitchen to give him room.
“So, what can I do?” He asked, smiling sweetly.
What can you do? Well for starters… Many wonderful, lustful thoughts entered my mind, and I had to tell myself to stop. If we were to have a relationship, I couldn't pressure him. It was my job to help him believe – remember, but that would require careful and gentle execution. I didn't want to scare him away for good. “Here, you can take these down to Jim.” I handed him a plate with the four prepared chicken breasts on it.
Aaron raised his eyebrows. “Were you expecting someone?” Holding the plate in his hands, he smiled at me. Every time he smiled, my skin prickled, and it felt like my legs melted away underneath me. I put my hand on the counter, steadying myself.
“No, I just have a habit of making extra. Don't you always make enough for leftovers?”
“Unfortunately, I spend more time dining out than in. Nature of the job, I guess.” Aaron turned and headed toward the door. “Back in a moment,” he called as he headed out.
Keeping my eyes off Aaron wasn't an easy task, but I endured, all the while hoping my mother's preoccupation with Jim was enough to keep her from paying any attention to me or Aaron. In any case, as dinner ended and the sun began to set, mosquitoes came out in full force. It was a welcome distraction for any peering eyes should they wander our way.
It wasn't long, however, before the bloodthirsty bugs drove us inside to the safety of my apartment. As we each grabbed an armload from the table, I convinced everyone that cleaning could wait. Once back in the apartment, I ushered them into the living room while I prepared a desert of berries and cream.
When I rejoined my guests, my mother and Jim were sitting on the love seat, of course, and Aaron had taken up his place in the corner of the couch. The very spot he'd sat in the night we'd fallen asleep. I set the tray of desserts on the table and sat beside him, my leg brushing lightly against his. Every touch, be it accidental or not, sent what I could only describe as an electrical charge coursing through my body, and I hoped he felt it, too.
“So Aaron, does business usually bring you here to Bourton?” my mother questioned.
I was interested in the answer myself. Apart from my situation, one he'd already told me was unusual, his tours usually focused on London and the surrounding area.
“No, not usually. My present clients are going on a walking tour of the Cotswolds, and it starts here in Bourton.”
“A walking tour; that sounds lovely, doesn't it, Jim?” Mother turned and looked at her fiancé who nodded in agreement. “Are there many in this area?”
“Oh indeed, you can hike anywhere from a day to an entire week.”
“Are you going on any?” My mother directed her question towards me.
“Uh, I don't know, I never thought of it. I might check it out.” I really hadn't planned on going on any extended hikes.
My mother's focus on me didn't last long, and she resumed questioning Aaron. “If you don't mind me asking, do you usually visit clients on a social basis?
My mouth dropped open in shock, but no words came out. Leave it to my mother to be so blunt. I think even Jim was a little surprised by her question, but he didn't say a word, instead he sat there staring at me with a look as if to say – sorry about that.
Aaron laughed. Immediately, the tension in the room eased, and a slow breath escaped my lips. “Not at all,” he said clapping his hands on his knees, a grin still pasted on his face. Even in that moment, I couldn't tear my gaze from him as I took in his profile. He looked nothing like the Thomas from my dreams, or rather from Mary's memories, but there was definitely something in his mannerism that was the same. My eyes might not recognize him, but my heart did.
“Krista is… a special case.” Aaron's voice immediately brought me out of my stupor, and I once again looked at my mother, our eyes holding onto each other's.
“Oh? In what way?” She tore her gaze from mine and looked to Aaron for his response.
“Well for one, I've had to juggle and adjust to fit her tours in here and there. Usually, I see my clients for a few days and then it's on to the next. Not to mention, she is also renting this flat in my aunt's cottage.”
I looked away from Aaron to my mother and then back again. Is that all I am – a special case? I wasn't sure if those were my thoughts or Mary's. Of course, my logical side certainly didn't expect him to declare his feelings for me in front of my mother, but still, I was a little disappointed. Don't you feel anything – some sort of connection – familiarity even? How can you not know it's me? How can you not know that I belong with you? I nervously wrung my hands as questions and feelings spun through my head – confused as to whose thoughts they were. At that moment, I realized that it was going to be a lot harder to convince him, and to make him remember.
“Yoo-hoo! Krista!” My mother called, snapping her fingers at me.
I blinked, realizing all eyes were focused on me. “Sorry, say that again?” I looked at my mother, guessing that she must have asked me a question.
“Aaron's aunt's house?”
“Didn't I tell you?”
My mother shook her head.
I shrugged and said, “It must have slipped my mind.”
“Yes, I'm sure it did.” My mother smiled at me, and my shoulders relaxed.
Jim, who had sat quietly the whole time, placed his hand on my mother's knee, a gesture that seemingly prevented her from attempting to ask any more questions. In any event, it didn't matter because it seemed it was Aaron's turn.
“So, have you set a wedding date yet?” Aaron asked.
Of all the things we'd talked about, that was the one question I hadn't thought to ask, and I silently waited for their answer.
“Well…” My mother looked toward Jim who reached over and took her hand.
“We'd like to get married at the end of September, with your blessing, of course.” Jim said, smiling at me.
So soon? Can't you date for a bit longer? Two months, in my opinion didn't seem like a very reasonable amount of time. Of course, my face being like a book, it must have registered all the concern I had. Before I said anything aloud my mother began to counter my inaudible argument.
“You forget, dear, that Jim and I have known each other for a very long time, we even dated before I met your father. What we shared all those years ago resurfaced as if it was yesterday. And I believe to paraphrase you, 'You know it when you see it'.”
I thought back to our conversation during the brunch we had shared before my trip. Having my own words thrown back at me was surprising, especially, coming from my mother. I had no argument.
“Okay.” I nodded. “I am very happy for you – both of you.” I smiled, truly happy for my mother. She'd been alone for so long that it was time for her to have love again, even my father approved from the great beyond.
“Will you be my maid of honour?”
My mother's question took me completely by surprise. My eyes filled up, and I squeezed them shut for a second to keep the tears back. “Of course, I will!” Rising, I went over to her and hugged her.
“I hate to interrupt this moment, but I should be going.”
I turned away from my mother and stared at Aaron who had already risen. For the first time all evening, I had forgotten that he was in the room. Heat rose up my neck and settled in my cheeks and ears. I hadn't expected to have such an emotional excha
nge with my mother in front of him and Jim. Neither man, however, seemed to mind as they both looked at ease. It was good for Jim if he was going to become my stepfather. It was good for Aaron too, should I manage the impossible and help him remember.
“I think we're going to head out, too.” My mother was the next to stand with Jim following in suit.
I led them all to the door as we exchanged pleasantries. Hugging in group-like fashion, I planted a kiss on my mother's and Jim's cheeks. The corner of my eye registered Aaron standing patiently by the door, his hand resting on the knob.
“Join us for breakfast tomorrow?” Jim asked as an endearing smile spread across his face. I could see why my mother was so smitten.
“8 o'clock?” I questioned back, my own smile creeping across my face, my heart warming even more to the idea of Jim becoming part of our family. Suddenly, my heart quickened as my ears picked up the subtle sound of the knob turning, and I quickly focused my attention back to Aaron. I didn't want him to leave before I could say goodbye.
“Nice to meet you and enjoy your stay,” Aaron said to my mother and Jim before turning his attention back to me. “Krista, I shall see you on the fourth.” He pulled the door open.
“I'll be ready.” It wasn't exactly what I wanted to say, and I secretly wished he'd hang back just for a moment, so we could talk privately. I attempted to convey my feelings on my face hoping he'd suddenly find a reason to stay. It seemed, however, that trying to be readable wasn't going to be successful as Aaron stared at me with an unrecognizable expression of his own before heading out the door with Jim following behind. I turned away disappointed, forgetting my mother was still behind me.
“I know what's different about you,” she said, a huge grin on her face.
“What?”
“You're in love.,” She said it so plainly, like she was reading it in print.
“What?” How the hell does she know that?
“Honey, it's written all over your face.”
Oh sure – NOW my face is readable. I briefly looked past my mother at the mirror that hung on the wall behind her. There must be a way of being less transparent – plastic surgery maybe?
“Don't worry; it'll be our little secret, though in truth, I think he knows, too.”
My eyes flitted back to her still grinning face. “Who? Jim?” My face must have evolved into yet another strange expression because my mother burst into laughter with tears streaming down her face. I'd never seen her laugh so hard in my life.
“Oh my dear, no wonder you have such a hard time finding true love. You don't see it when it's right in front of your eyes.”
I was completely stunned, scared, overwhelmed, and in utter disbelief. How can she see something that I apparently can't? I stared at her, not saying a word, for there wasn't a clear way, in my mind at least, of expressing exactly what it was that I wanted to say.
“He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, and he jumped whenever you brushed up against him, it was almost electric. Not to mention the brief look of disappointment I saw in his eyes when he saw you had company. He definitely has feelings for you; he just might not be willing to admit it yet.” She took me in her arms, hugged me tightly, and walked out the door leaving me staring after her.
Maybe it wasn't going to be so hard after all.
Thirty-Six
My mother had given me hope, and it was that hope that I clung to as each day passed. My anticipation grew as I waited to see Aaron again, and though it was difficult, I kept myself busy.
I spent a good part of the day on Saturday with my mother and Jim shopping and visiting museums. The time I spent with my mother was pleasant, and it reminded me of when my father was alive.
As a family, we had been close for the most part, but sometimes my father played the mediator and kept the peace in times of conflict. With just a look, he could stop my mother in mid-nag and keep me from insolence. He helped with compromises when my mother was being over-protective, and he let me know when I was being unreasonable. When he died a part of my mother died, too, I know because I saw it in her eyes. One day the light was there and then – Poof! Just like that, it was gone. No longer was there anyone to keep her from nagging and no one to keep me from talking back. That first year was tough, but as I matured, I realized that my mother wasn't the enemy, that she really did have my best interest at heart. So on the advice my father had given me a few years earlier, I learned how to compromise, to suck it up and take 'no' for an answer.
Over the years, we developed a mutual respect for each other, but we never regained the bond we had once shared. Now that she had found love again, that feeling of closeness began to resurface in just those few days together. When the time came for her departure, we said tearful goodbyes and as my mother and I hugged, I felt all the years of tension wash away with the tears that we shed.
The gloomy sound of rain tapping at my window roused me from my sleep – it was perfect funeral weather. My eyes fluttered open and scanned my dimly lit room, confirming what my ears suspected; the day was indeed dismal.
I burrowed under my blankets with the remnants of a dream nipping at my conscious, compelling me to remember. I gave in and laid there for some time, struggling to recall my dream. It had been awhile since dreams of Mary occupied my mind, almost as if they never existed, but of course, that wasn't true, the proof lived in my notebook. That same notebook rested patiently on the nightstand waiting for its next entry. Night after night, my sleep was silent, devoid of dreams, and morning after morning, the notebook remained closed.
An hour later, and still no recollection of my dream, I gave up, preferring the idea of a hot shower instead. My subconscious hoped the steam would conjure up an image from my past on the mirror, but unfortunately only my blurry reflection stared back from the steam-covered mirror. It seemed Mary no longer wanted to reveal herself to me, nor could I count on new memories to guide me – she had done her job, and now it was my turn.
I dressed slowly and trudged out into the kitchen for a light breakfast. The depressing day weighed heavily on me, my usual morning appetite diminished. Funerals weren't my favourite. I chuckled at the thought, shaking my head – they weren't anyone's favourite. However, as part of the community, and that was how I felt, it was important for me to pay my last respects to the old woman who had given me the clarity that I needed.
Fortunately, by the time I left the apartment, the rain had slowed considerably, and it was only spitting. The streets were relatively quiet as I trudged along slowly to the old, stone church. Whether it was because of the dreary day or the fact that I was going to a funeral, it was difficult to say, but the walk seemed much longer, and I feared I would be late. My worries, however, were unfounded, and there was plenty of time to spare as I walked into the church along with a large number of people. Inside, I found an equal amount of mourners had gathered, and I managed to find a seat at the back of the church in the last pew. I was happy to see that she'd touched so many lives and was important to so many. In my mind, there was nothing worse than dying alone, with no one to remember you.
I looked around at the beautiful, old church with its cheerful, blue carpeting, decorated ceiling, and stained glass windows. Other than weddings, funerals, and baptisms, it had been a long time since I attended a regular mass, and I made a promise to myself to try to go more often when I returned home.
By the time the service started, the church was filled to capacity, and as the pallbearers brought the casket in, an unexpected sense of envy came over me. I was envious of those around me who truly knew and loved the old woman. Suddenly, my stomach sank. I took a deep breath and slowly let the air out. I didn't have the right to be there – her name wasn't even known to me. The urge to leave was strong, but I couldn't find it in me to get up and walk away. I sat quietly, learning much about the old woman from the minister and all those who approached the altar and said a few words. When it was all over, I waited patiently for the entire congregation to follow out behind
the casket. While the rest proceeded to the cemetery, I trudged back home in the rain under the protection of my umbrella.
The water sprayed off the tips of my shoes as I sloshed along the seemingly empty streets of Bourton. It was a ghost town, and in that moment, I never felt lonelier. Perhaps it was the distraction of watching my feet splash along the road, but when I finally looked up, I was approaching the old woman's house. I shook my head in disbelief, the trip back home always seemed much faster. With no conscious effort, my feet stopped, and I found myself staring at the window where I had seen the old woman smiling her approval at me. I found myself wishing to see her again. Suddenly, the front door swung open, startling me.
“Are you Krista?” A young man called from the front door. I nodded, surprised that the young man knew my name. “I have something for you. Please wait a moment.” He turned and went back into the house.
I didn't move any closer, I only stood there on the walk staring back at the house, waiting for him to return. When he did, he'd pulled on a jacket and shoes. Opening an umbrella, he made his way out to me on the street.
“Here, my grandmother left this for you.”
I looked at his outstretched hand. “Your grandmother?”
“I don't do well at funerals,” the young man said, still holding the envelope out to me.
With some trepidation, I carefully plucked it from his hand, rubbed the creases from my forehead with my other hand, and stuffed the envelope into my pocket. “I'm Andrew.” The young man thrust his hand toward me.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand. “I'm really sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. Did you know my grandmother well?”
“Ah no, not really.” I didn't want to get into my lack of familiarity concerning his grandmother.
Andrew nodded as though he understood. “Well, I should go. It was nice to meet you,” he said abruptly and headed back toward the house, leaving me to stare after him long after he'd shut the door.
Promised Soul Page 22
