by Lily Harlem
Stomping up the hill, the earth hard and solid beneath my feet, I reached the large new angel with her spread wings. I paused. On the stone beneath her a flickering candle was still burning. Someone had been to that grave recently. I wondered if it were a child’s.
I turned and saw the small set of headstones I was heading for. A coolish breeze touched my cheeks, pulling more straggling locks of hair from my once neat style.
As if hair was of any concern to me.
I was a woman who had nothing left. Not even the emotional tools to rebuild from here. I was empty. I’d run out of everything.
“No,” I said, making a fist. “Be strong, Katie.”
But could I? I’d been as strong as I could be. I’d smiled, I’d eaten, I’d balanced. What if I really was all used up? What if my energy just didn’t equal my will to carry on?
I reached Matt’s grave.
An owl hooted in a nearby tree.
“Matt,” I whispered. I knew he wasn’t really there, but still, I liked his name on my tongue. “Matt, I’ve messed up.” As I’d spoken, tears sprung forth again. In a gush this time, not even individual drips, just streams and rivers pouring down my face.
I dropped to my knees, fell forward, forehead on the ground above his buried urn. I’d run out of strength. It was official.
My body was tired, exhausted, but more than that my emotions were wrung out. Battered and bruised, I didn’t have the energy to sift through the pain. It was just one big, nasty lump of agony, black and sticky and cancerous. It made me bleed inside. It blurred my vision and ate away at any tiny fragment of hope I had left.
I was hopeless.
I became aware of a gentle pressure on my right shoulder.
“Shit!” I sprang forward, grabbed Matt’s headstone and turned. Fight or flight kicked in. I should never have come here at night.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ruben held up his hands, as if in surrender.
I stared at him, thankful it wasn’t a weirdo or a ghost but wanting to slap him for the freaky fright. “Sneaking up on someone at night in a cemetery,” I panted through my lingering sobs. “That’s a damn sure way to scare someone.” I stayed crouched over, wondering if my heart would survive the scare.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, dropping his hands to his sides and shaking his head.
“What are you doing here?” My legs were watery. I fought to stay upright. “How did you know where I was?”
“I went back, to talk to you and saw Andy staggering along with a very drunk Melanie.” He stared at me, and through the dim light and I could tell he was frowning. “He said you’d gone to see Matt. I guessed that meant here. Melanie opened her eyes long enough to tell me the name of the cemetery.”
“But? It’s…” I motioned my arm around the sea of stones. “Huge.”
“I saw your silhouette, when you stopped by the angel over there.”
I stared at the tall, dark statue, her wingtips pointing Heavenward, her head bowed in prayer.
“But I thought you never wanted to see me again. Why would you follow me?” I couldn’t understand what he was doing here, after what he’d said back at the hotel.
“Katie.” He touched his forehead, rubbed his temple. “I’ve got to figure this out. It’s kind of a shock, you know.” He paused.
I didn’t fill the silence.
“Just tell me what the bloody hell was going through your mind,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“When you thought it was okay to get involved with the man who had your dead husband’s heart beating in his chest.” He pressed his hand over his sternum. “And air in his lungs.”
I moved behind Matt’s stone, gripped the top of it and looked warily at Ruben. He didn’t seem mad anymore, just confused. But still, I knew he could hurt me, not physically, but with words. Any type of shield was welcome. I had no defenses left.
“I didn’t think anything.”
“Of course you did.”
“No, not once I got to know you. It was just you.”
“Okay.” He nodded slowly. “And at what point was that? The once-you-got-to-know-me bit?”
I glanced in the direction of the owl as another hoot rang out. “I suppose it was when we went to the Champagne bar.”
He tugged on his bottom lip with his finger. “That’s good.”
“It is?”
“Yes.” He paused. “So in the park, when we first met…?”
I shrugged, stiffly.
“Katie?”
“I’d spoken to the transplant coordinator, she said that the recipient may chose to get in touch with me to express gratitude at some point, but it was no guarantee and they wouldn’t give me any information about you other than your gender and age and that the initial operation had gone well.” I paused, swallowed. “I thought about writing to you, she said I could do that, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted to see you. So at the park, yes, I was curious. I was there to catch a glimpse of the recipient. I’ll admit that.”
He shook his head. “The recipient? Is that how you see me?”
“Back then, yes, I didn’t know you. But that was all I wanted to do, see you, from a distance. By then I had your name and knew you worked at the museum, no other details.” I brushed the dusty grit off the top of Matt’s stone, sweeping it left and right down its arced shape. It was so quiet I could hear the grains rubbing on the marble. “I didn’t plan on talking to you. I just…” It all seemed so long ago now. The intensity of my time with Ruben had faded it into the past.
“Go on.”
“It’s hard to explain,” I said.
“Try, Katie, for God’s sake try, will you.” There was anguish in his tone.
I looked up at him. He was slumped, apparently as tired and beaten as me.
“I just needed to know what you looked like,” I said. “I couldn’t sleep. When I did I dreamt of Matt. I just felt that being able to picture where his heart was would help. It was a thought that grew bigger and bigger until it couldn’t be ignored, couldn’t be contained. It had given me some focus when I was stumbling around blindly.”
“So you had someone find me. How the hell did you manage that?”
“Does it matter?”
He was quiet, then, “I suppose not.” He shrugged. “You did, and that’s the point.”
“Yes, but honestly, I just needed to know where the heart was that had loved me so much.”
Ruben touched his chest and rubbed his palm up to his throat.
“And then that damn Blitz room and the crazy peacock threw us together, and it was you who asked me to the café, it was you who asked me out, remember. I didn’t pursue you at all. You gave me your number.”
“Of course I remember, I was there.”
I stepped around the gravestone, gathered my last tiny vestige of strength and stood tall. “I’ll admit I was fascinated at the thought of Matt’s heart inside you, a tiny bit of him that was still living. It’s a strange concept. But that didn’t make you him, Ruben. You’re you, a speed junkie, Formula One nut, and all round funny but sensitive bloke.” I paused. “I never once was with you and pretended I was with Matt. Not once.”
“You didn’t?”
“No, no of course not. I promise you that,” I shook my head. “Matt’s dead.” I pointed at the ground. I’d never get used to saying those words, but I couldn’t change the truth.
Ruben took a step closer, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. He held out one hand.
A wave of fear coursed through me. I couldn’t take rejection again. If I let Ruben get close he might push me away. Might say what a loopy cow I was and order me never to go near him again. Hell, he could get me in a whole pile of trouble for hunting him down. There were rules and laws and ethical issues that should have stopped me.
I turned, faced the twilight sky.
“Katie—”
“Ruben, no. I’ve been running low on emotional stren
gth for years, but right now I’m on empty. Please, if you have to leave, just leave.”
“I don’t want to leave. I want to understand this.”
“I’ve explained all that I can. It’s quite simple really. We met, fell in love, and you happen to have had an organ transplant from someone I also loved.”
“But don’t you see, that stirs up so many questions.” He rested his hands on my shoulders, brushed my neck with his thumbs.
I resisted the urge to fall back against him. He was way too tempting. Everything about him enticed me in. But what if he stepped away? How would I get up again?
I stared into the distance, consciously pulling and pushing my breaths in and out of my lungs. “Questions?” I asked eventually.
“Yes,” he said softly, “if this heart that’s in me loved you before, then is that why I love you so much now that I can’t even think straight when I’m not with you?”
“Don’t say it.” I turned, a frantic spin that knocked me into him. “Don’t say you love me if you’re not going to do anything with those words.” A lump caught in my throat. “That’s just cruel, Ruben, and I can’t take anymore pain.”
“Damn it, I don’t want to cause you pain, but you’ve made this so complicated.” He gripped the top of my arms. “How can I ever know if you truly love me or if what I’m feeling for you is real?”
“He just brought us together,” I said, reading the inscription Matthew Lincoln Lansdale on the stone. “Matt just brought us together. That’s how I look at it. He didn’t want me to be alone, you said that yourself. This is his way, or fate’s way, of making sure we both have what we need. Each other.”
Ruben was quiet, the line between his eyebrows deep as my words settled. “Perhaps I can look at it like that?” he said. “That he brought us together, like this was mapped out in the stars or something.”
A nugget of hope, when I thought I had none, sprang to life. “And if you can?”
“And if I can…”
I felt like I was spinning, the disco lights from earlier bouncing around me. I had to catch them, those lights, they were my future. All I had left.
He cupped my face in his palms. The softness was back in his eyes.
Could he really figure out a new way to understand this? Make peace with what had happened and move on even after he’d been so angry with me? So confused.
“And if I can and if you’ll have me,” he said, his lips a whisper from mine “then I want to be with you for all of time.”
“Ruben, I—”
“It’s messed up and weird as hell, but I can’t imagine living without you, Katie, not now.”
He kissed me as a sob bubbled up from my chest. I clung to him. In a sudden rush happiness blustered beneath me, whisking me up to my tightrope. I could balance up there again, happily, with Ruben at my side. This was a good place to be.
“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back. “For being so mad. Really sorry.”
“It was a shock for you.” I grasped his arms, felt his familiar shape beneath his jacket and breathed in his comforting scent. “And I’m sorry too, for not telling you.”
“I know you are,” he said. “And it was a shock. It still is, but I’ll get used to it, you have.”
“Yes, for me it’s helped everything make sense.”
His thumbs stroked over my cheeks; I hadn’t realized they were so wet with tears. “It just took me a little while,” he whispered, “to realize that you’re an angel, Katie, an angel who has been hiding her wings.”
Epilogue
I sank my feet into the warm Caribbean sand and let it tumble over my toes. The sea breeze lifted my veil, tugging where the comb fastened it to my hair at the crown of my head. Ruben took both of my hands in his and smiled down at me.
He looked healthy and gorgeous with his new tan and wearing a white linen shirt and cream chinos. I could hardly believe he was going to be my husband in just a few minutes. Those soft, dreamy eyes of his that understood me so well, that had captured my soul, were going to be mine to gaze into for all of time.
I glanced at my parents and Trevor and Veronica—our only guests—standing on the beach a few feet away. The ladies were in floral dresses—my mother’s a wash of plum-purples and bruised-berries, Veronica’s a dolly-mixture of pinks, oranges and violets. They both had feathered fascinators in their hair, similar, because they’d shopped together the week before; two giggling ladies excited about their trip to Barbados and a wedding. The men wore short-sleeved shirts and ties, the colors matching their respective spouse with devastating accuracy, their hair freshly trimmed and their cheeks and chins devoid of any holiday stubble.
“Katie?” Ruben said.
I squeezed his hands. Smiled. It was perfect. When Ruben had proposed to me three months ago, he’d said he wanted me to make new wedding day memories and we could do it however I wanted.
Saying our vows on a beach seemed the perfect way to bless our union. Instead of roses I had orchids, instead of a churchyard our photographs would have the ocean as the backdrop. This was my wedding to Ruben. It went into a different folder to my wedding to Matt. Not better, not worse, just different.
And I loved Ruben every bit as much as I’d loved Matt. My heart was full of it, swollen with it. Every cell in my body was tuned into being with him. My good fortune to find the grand but humble emotion of love again was not lost on me. Not one bit. I would be eternally grateful.
“Are you ready?” the officiator asked.
“Yes,” I said, nodding. “Absolutely.”
The short ceremony began. I only stumbled a little, on ‘until death do us part’ but Ruben had pre-empted this and smoothed his thumbs over the inside of my wrists, letting me know he was there, that he understood this bit was hard. Not just because I’d lost Matt but because he’d always have to take that extra bit of care of himself too.
Ruben slipped a white gold ring onto my finger, saying solemnly what it meant. My balance quavered, but in a good way, in a way that made me want to throw my arms around him and tell him how happy his words made me. That kind of wobble I could live with, it was light and feathery, made me want to fly.
I slid a thicker, matching band onto his finger, loving the symbolism and the fact it made him mine, that it tied us together.
As a wave burst and its skittering, frothy edge nearly reached us, Ruben was told to kiss his bride.
He gathered me close, fitting my body into his and took possession of my mouth. I melted against him. Nothing I could say could express my happiness, actions the only thing that could come anywhere near to doing the enormous bouncing ball of joy justice.
Another sweep of breeze tickled over us, pressing my long white silky dress to my legs and curling my veil around our faces. I pushed it back, laughing, and saw exhilaration and love in Ruben’s eyes as he released me.
I turned to our parents.
There was a rush of congratulations and kisses, hugs and slaps on the back. Everyone was smiling, both mothers had moist eyes and they each held damp tissues.
“I’m so happy for you,” Veronica said, squeezing me close. “You and Ruben couldn’t be more perfect for one another.”
“I agree,” I said, embracing her.
“You gave him a future we never thought he’d have. For that I’m so indebted, Katie.”
I pulled back, studied her face. Ruben and I hadn’t told anyone, not a soul, that he had Matt’s heart. But had he told his mother in a quiet moment?
“Maybe one day even a future with children,” she said, cupping my cheek.
I looked into her eyes, trying to see if there was some other knowledge there. I couldn’t be sure.
She smiled. “You’ll have beautiful babies, Katie, you really are the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen.” She hugged me again.
If she did know anything I wasn’t about to question it, not today, and probably not ever. My history had found a place to settle, a place where it could wait until the days I chose to
bring it out and visit it. Finally the past had moved from my present back to where it belonged.
“Come on,” Ruben said, reaching for my hand. “Time for the wedding feast.”
I laughed, scooped up the hem of my dress and walked behind him, sinking my feet into the sand and puffing up little grainy clouds behind me. “You’ve been looking forward to this bit, haven’t you?”
“You know I have, the menu looks delicious.” He released my hand, pulled me close and pressed his mouth to my ear. “Plus I have to keep my strength up for my wedding night.”
We dined on flying fish and cou cou, roast pork with diamond crackling, chicken stuffed with spiced rice and yams, sweet potato and pumpkin. More food than we needed and all vibrant, fresh and delicious.
We were seated within a thatched cabana, still close to the waves, the Caribbean winds kept us from overheating and the cocktails kept our thirst at bay. I couldn’t stop touching Ruben—even when eating I still needed that physical contact.
It seemed he did, too, and every few minutes he stroked my cheek, my shoulder, or my thigh beneath the table. Whenever I looked at him, he was looking at me.
Our parents had hit it off from the first time they’d met, the men sharing a common interest in golf and our mothers shopping. Mine had been floored by my grief and hadn’t known how to help me. But then who could? I’d folded into my shroud of misery. It had taken Ruben coming under with me to tempt me out that had persuaded me to stop wearing it.
My parents—seeing me happy again, no longer a shadow of myself, but Katie, their daughter who laughed and joked—had an extra lining to their happiness today. I knew they had, they’d told me so.
Eventually the sun started to set. The chocolate icebox pudding and lemon meringues we’d indulged in had been cleared away, and shadows from the nearby palm trees sent thin-finger shadows elongating over the table.
“Right,” Trevor said, plucking four strips of paper from his wallet. “I think it’s time to leave these lovebirds to it and go and see the limbo dancing.”
“What?” I said with a laugh. “Limbo dancing?”
“Yes,” he said. “Four tickets for Fire Limbo Extraordinaire.” He read the wording on the tickets. “Prepare to be dazzled, stunned and heated up to boiling point by men and women who can move to the groove and get down to the ground.”
