Coincidences: #3 Diana & Anya

by Diroll-Nichols, Karen

  “Anya?” Chloe bent over and met her eyes upside down. “You sure this is a good idea?”

  “I am not sure what is a good idea these days,” Anya admitted, sighing and slowly straightening up. She moved to the bed and eased back with a tired sigh. “Lose a little blood and suddenly all your energy is gone…pfffft…out the window.”

  Chloe pulled a chair to the bed. “Well, you were shot, Anya. I brought you a new shirt. Figured you might need it about now.”

  “Thank you, Chloe…I…I do not know…”

  “Thank you is enough. You don’t look perky,” she said casually. “Feeling better?”

  “Feeling…not sure…not at all sure what I am feeling at the moment.”

  “There comes a time when you can’t find new places to run to, Anya,” Chloe began quietly.

  “What I chose to do is my concern, not yours. I appreciate…”

  “Do you? We have an interesting circle of friends. With crap that would rival a novel on the best seller list in our pasts,” she admitted with a laugh. “Are you no longer interested in my costume shop idea?”

  “Chloe…” The name came out slow and a long sigh followed. “I have so many things…so much inside my head at the moment…”

  “You’re trained as a surgeon. You know how to think and do it quickly and clearly. Why did you give it up?” Chloe knew what she was doing, only too well.

  “That is also none of your concern,” was the immediate and curt reply.

  “One of the things paramount in our friendships is no secrets and no lies. You can’t have true friendship with either,” Chloe said as if Anya hadn’t spoken. “So why did you give up all your training and skills…”

  “You know nothing about me,” Anya mumbled tensely, her fingers curling around the edge of the blanket.

  “I never would have pegged you for a quitter,” Chloe said with a shrug.

  “You have not lived in my place. You have no idea…”

  “True…and you’re right, I haven’t. But I have empathy. I have sympathy and imagination. I also know for a fact that there are no do-overs. You grew up in a crap place, with idiot adults bent on self-destruction for ancient reasons that are quite simply, insane and asinine. Along with a million other people around the globe who live in areas with hate mongering insane dictators or wild eyed fanatics. You’ve seen and lived through atrocities. But the key is you lived. Is that what makes you angriest? That you lived and others died?”

  “Please go away, Chloe…I do not want to be…to shout or…” Anya continued staring out the window, willing the hot moisture to stop.

  “I understand wanting to die, Anya…I truly do…when the ache inside is so terribly unbearable…nothing to hit or beat on or throw is ever enough…because no matter what, morning still comes,” she said softly.

  “Please go away.”

  “I can’t,” Chloe said tenderly, honestly. “Friends don’t abandon friends, even when they throw things. Yes, you saw children die. Yes, you watched a person you love, die….he left you…but he left you with a tomorrow. And not everyone leaves,” Chloe said from the heart and memory. “You are angry because you can’t change them. You can’t fix them….but in this little part of the big world….in this section of society…maybe, just maybe…you can make a difference. One drop changes the ocean,” Chloe took her business card from the pocket of her shirt and laid it in her fingers. “Family doesn’t just come from DNA, Anya…sometimes it comes from the strangest places. Please don’t run. Call me when you’re up for another lecture,” Chloe bent over and hugged her carefully.

  Pembrook stood outside the room, leaning against the wall. She walked with Chloe toward the front desk.

  “You’re dangerous,” Pembrook said with admiration.

  “Yeah, so I’ve been told,” she said with a grin.

  “I think you might have made a difference.”

  “Only time…” Chloe waved a few fingers on her way out the emergency exit, trotting to the waiting car.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Anya lay curled against two pillows, staring and listening to all the words inside her head. An hour later, the tears had finally stopped when the soft hand touched her shoulder. She had heard the door open but didn’t move.

  “Anya?” Jane came around to the side. She could see the after effects of tears and sadness. “I won’t ask if you’re okay…I’ll get you a cold wash cloth,” she said simply, going into the bathroom and returning a minute later. She set the cloth on the nightstand. “Let me help,” Jane eased close and helped her sit upright.

  “Thank you,” Anya took the cold cloth, burying her face in it with a long, shuddering breath.

  “Bad day?”

  “No…I do not know, to be honest, Jane. I am so…there are so many things inside my mind…” She groaned softly. “I need to get out of this top…and out of this place…”

  “Well…let’s see what we can do…” Jane opened the small bag on the bottom of the bed, pulling a brightly colored piece of fabric from inside. “Very pretty…the colors are good for you…” Bright gold and red flowers over the shirt.

  “Chloe brought it by earlier…it is very pretty,” she agreed, the fabric a cool cotton. She reached up and pulled the tie free at her neck and then moved to open the snap of the sling.

  “It’s a good thought, but she didn’t take the shoulder thing into consideration,” Jane looked down at her top and smiled, reaching behind her to undo the buttons down the back. “But we can make this work for you…”

  Damian had been leaning against the wall outside the room when he heard the thunk of something hitting the floor. Tossing caution to the winds, he opened the door a little to peer around the corner.

  “Do you ladies need…” Damian stared at the familiar bare chest, closed his eyes and backed out of the opening, letting the door close.

  “He’s seen them before,” Jane said with a laugh, laying the halter top she had worn on the bed and reaching for the new shirt. “The halter will work a lot easier for you.”

  Moving slowly and carefully, Jane got her out of the hospital gown and was working on fitting the halter around Anya. Slim fingers gently buttoned the back and moved to secure the tie around her neck.

  “Oh, thank you,” Anya eased the sling back into place. She had wanted it gone, but admitted reluctantly that her muscles weren’t ready for that stress yet. “This feels so much better. I…I am not accustomed to…” Anya searched for the words she wanted. “The involvement…your friends…I do not want to hurt anyone…”

  “I’ve only been living here a little over three months now.” Jane spoke in the long silent spot. “I think I was…and sometimes I still am…over whelmed by the friendship from the women I’ve met. There is no animosity…no picking or bitterness…I think it comes from being happy inside ourselves finally. And just maybe that came from the feelings…Chloe calls it an aura…Isabel says it’s pieces of a puzzle all working in sync…I’m not sure what it is…but I know it’s not a bad place to be. It’s an amazingly healing place…”

  Anya stared at her hands, one immobile and the other an open palm.

  “I do not know how to make the…make the things…how do you force memories to just leave you alone!” She whispered painfully. “I fight so hard just to sleep! Just to make peace inside my memories…”

  Jane sat on the bed next to her, one leg drawn up beneath the other. “I don’t know if they ever do, Anya. My parents died three years ago. It was a car accident…idiots drinking…there’s a lot of anger inside me still. But I don’t think I’d want all the good memories to leave me just because of one bad one. I still get teary when I think about them…and I miss them.”

  “You are all so very tolerant,” Anya accepted the tissues.

  “Being tolerant is easy…the hard part is watching a friend miss out on the good things life can offer,” Jane shifted their direction. “Ian says you live out of a van?”

  “Ian has a big mouth,” An
ya said with a soft growl.

  “I think he worries about you,” Jane laughed and offered a shrug. “And I think he’s kinda cute…and sweet on you…”

  “He…he was very good friends with my husband,” Anya chose her words carefully and still hot moisture stung her eyes.

  “It’s been a very long time since you’ve spoken about him, hasn’t it?” Jane saw her nod. “I’m going to make a guess you haven’t had anyone to talk to him about…I think we should go visit Bella.”

  “We have guards,” Anya mentioned with a sniffle.

  “Please…” Jane winked and went to the door. “Would you guys go get us something cold to drink? This girl talk stuff drains you…” She offered her sweetest smile and watched Ian and Damian stride off down the hall. “Okay, I got the car keys…let’s go…”

  Jane left a quick note at the front desk with orders to deliver it when they were gone. She buckled Anya into the front seat of the sports car, adjusted the seat and headed them towards one of the bridges crossing Lake Washington.

  “They will be angry.” Anya said, but chuckled at the actions they had just taken. Fun, her memory told her. Simple, easy fun.

  “Maybe…maybe not. I told them I’d deliver you to Ian’s before night fall. Damian can get a ride or wait for me…I’m sure any minute now the…” chimes began on the phone in her pocket. “Phone will ring. And I’m also sure he’ll track us down and join us at Bella’s. They’re quite smart.”

  “I appreciate escaping,” Anya began, relaxing and inhaling deeply. “But why are we going to visit your friend, Bella?”

  “Because Bella lost someone she loved, too,” Jane said quietly. “A husband or lover is a different kind of loss than parents. So you turn to someone who’s been there…and besides, she’s a really good cook and I’m starving.”

  Anya felt a single tear slide down her cheek, her head tipped to the side as she watched the smooth waters of Lake Washington disappear beneath them, tall pines and cedars filling the skyline. She opened the window a little to draw in a long breath. It had been so very long since she was able to talk about Will. And now in two days, she felt like she was again being buried beneath an avalanche of emotions. She never understood why she felt so much guilt remembering the good times with him. But as Chloe suggested, survivor guilt.

  Anya stepped from the car, turning slowly and taking in the massive trees surrounding the huge log style Lodge. The parking lot was half full of people both coming and going; the gift shop buzzing with shoppers.

  “It is gorgeous here,” Anya moved slowly up the few steps to the wide open doors of the lodge. It wasn’t difficult to relax and watch the people around her and taking in the laughter and occasional frustrated parent trying to corral a child.

  “Bella and Sam make a nice couple,” Jane guided her carefully toward the dining area, one hand up to wave at Sam. “Hi, Sam,” she looked at Anya. “This is Anya Miller. Can we buy lunch and maybe see if Bella is real busy?”

  “You ladies are just what I need to make her slow down and get herself some food,” Sam declared with a satisfied nod, leading them to a table. “And lunch is on me. Enjoy…I’ll let her know you’re here.”

  “Oh, Bella is probably in a frenzy because of the anniversary party in a week or so,” Jane led Anya to the buffet, helping with the tray and food choices.

  “I will be most glad to be rid of this sling,” Anya threw herself into a comfortable chair in frustration. “I am not at all used to this…this…”

  Bella heard the brief, curt burst of Croatian and laughed. “It’s not easy when you’re used to two hands, that’s for sure. Hi, I’m Bella…and you must be Anya. Chloe has told us all about your designs. They’re very good.”

  “Thank you…I was admiring how wonderful your lodge is…so very alive,” Anya felt her stomach protest and began eating. “And your food smells incredible.”

  “You came on a good day…I tried a couple new recipes. The stuffed cabbages and a pasta and broccoli…buffets are fantastic for testing new things,” Bella filled her plate and settled into a chair between them. “I heard about the shooting. Are you feeling better? I know from experience, it hurts like hell.”

  “It has been awhile since I was last shot, but you are correct. It still hurts like hell,” Anya admitted, laughing with Bella, her head shaking. “I suppose it is foolish to think you can ever escape fools and violence.”

  “It’s a nice wish…the bad part is the ones performing the violence don’t agree with those of us who simply want peace,” Bella looked around her dining area while she ate. “Most people don’t want to be immersed in violence. How do we rid ourselves of radicals? Or people like this Carstairs, who was caught doing something illegal and just continued fighting instead of giving up? Humans are difficult to predict and even more difficult to control. Sometimes we just have to make our own peace.”

  “Anya?” Jane saw her swipe at her cheek.

  “Something…” Her head tipped slightly, eyes misting over. “Something Will said once…that yes we were surrounded by idiots with guns and bombs…but they couldn’t stop love,” she whispered painfully, blinking quickly and reaching for the icy glass of water. “I am so sorry…I cannot stop…”

  “If you’re going to be around us, the first thing is no apologies,” Bella handed her a napkin. “Tears are a pain in the butt, aren’t they?” She said with a light laugh, swiping at her own cheek. “Will was your husband?”

  “Yes…”

  “And that is why I brought Anya here,” Jane said slowly. “Her questions…I don’t know how to deal with the loss of a lover…and I thought maybe…”

  “Whew…” Bella brought her palm up, waving at her eyes and blinking repeatedly. “Wow…this is a private office chat…not out here…can’t have the boss hopelessly embarrassing herself,” She stood up and took her glass of water and gestured toward the corridor. “Please…let’s go somewhere more private.”

  “I did not…I do not want to bring you sorrow, Bella…Jane and your friends have been more than kind and I know I have the devil’s own temper at times…” Anya walked along with them, admiring the paintings and decorations, trying to distract her own mind.

  She looked around the large office, bright with color and flooded with sunshine streaming through the big, wide windows opening to the paths leading people on a walk around the lake.

  “Memories don’t have to be sorrow…I’m not sure I see tears as always about sorrow, though,” Bella sunk into one of the large cushioned chairs, her shoes off and feet tucked beneath her. “You don’t talk about Will? No friends or family to talk about him with?”

  “No…I thought…his family…but they did not want me…”

  “When Mark was killed, I was lucky, I guess…I had Kate and Chloe and his family to talk to…to remember with,” Bella swallowed hard. “You can be angry and furious and hurt at the day of his loss, but there were more good days than the one bad one to be remembered. You’re afraid to laugh. Afraid that if you do, it’s disloyal to him…how can you be happy when he is gone? But that’s not their personality…not them inside…they would want to hear your laughter, see your pleasure.”

  “How long ago…” Anya kept the napkin in her fingers, twisting and swiping occasionally at her cheeks.

  “Geeze…I was all of nineteen…” Bella laughed softly. “About fourteen years now.”

  “It has been just past five,” Anya stared out into the sunshine. “I just…I have spent so long just wanting the pain to stop…and Ian…he was good friends with Will…”

  “Ian wants to talk about Will and you don’t…when Will died…was there no one to talk to? To remember? I still have his birthday marked on my calendar. We held a wake for them…Mark and his friend were both killed at the same time. We would talk and remember things they’d said…jokes they made…so many good memories to hold onto…why did you never talk about him, Anya?”

  “There was no one,” she whispered. “I…I left Cro
atia to attend the service for him…but his parents…his relatives,” her head shook, no longer aware of the tears on her cheeks. “They said it was my fault their son was dead. I was not permitted to attend…no one would speak with me…no one would allow me to be with them…or him,” she whispered painfully.

  “Your fault? I don’t know the whole story, but…”

  “He was a soldier…an emergency driver and technician for the Army,” Anya answered, lost in the memory. “Because of the war in my god forsaken country, their son was dead. They were very angry…I could not stay…could not bring them more pain…”

  “Is that how you met him? I know you were a doctor there,” Bella asked, gently drawing out her memories. She was relieved when a smile broke through the watery tears.

  “He was so persistent…so…pesky, is the English word a female soldier used and we would laugh. Yes, we met while he was transporting a child to my clinic…so many children hurt. I tried to be professional and he…he said you could be professional and laugh at the same time,” Anya could hear him laughing in her mind, teasing and cheerful. “Even when he was covered with dirt and…and blood...he would put a flower in my hair and tell me how beautiful I was,” her whisper was soft and shaking.

  “You were single and he was single?” Bella asked. “Had you ever been married before, Anya?”

  “No,” the answer was brisk and immediate. “No….I did not….did not want….”

  “Why?” Jane watched the conflict in her eyes.

  “I was training to be a doctor…so much school….”

  “Honest? With us and yourself?” Bella prodded, suspecting there was more. “Your family is all gone?”

  “Yes…the bombs…so much noise and death…I was away at school when they were all killed…cleansing the village…”

  “So everyone was gone,” Bella said softly. “That’s why you didn’t want to let Will close.”