by B. N. Toler
She’s quiet for a moment and I wonder if she’s dozed off, if she’s heard me at all. Then, I see a tear trickle down her cheek before she gently squeezes my hand and whispers, “I love you, Mommy.”
It’s the last time I ever hear those words from her.
A couple days ago, Neena went to sleep and we couldn’t get her to wake up again. At first her head would move sometimes at the sound of our voices, but her eyes never opened.
In the last hours of Neena’s life, Clara talked to her, softly, as she lay in bed with her, while Marcus and I took turns holding her hands and kissing her head. Mei-ling sat quietly beside Marcus, her hand to her mouth. We’d called Karen, from hospice, and she assisted in any way possible. She stood on the side, giving us time with Neena. Clara rocked lightly as she held Neena, and talked about the day Neena took her first steps. And the time when Neena was four and had been outside playing and she came inside and presented Clara with a snake, almost giving her a heart attack. Even through our tears we all chuckled with some of the stories. Clara kept talking. She wouldn’t stop. Every story was beautiful and full of love and life. She just wanted Neena to hear her voice, feel her beside her, so she knew she wasn’t alone. In the final minutes, we all told her we loved her, and that it was okay to let go.
Her last breath came out in one long whoosh of air, as if her body was expelling the last drop of life from her. It almost sounded like she let it go with pure and utter relief. I held her hand for a long time, trying to control my tears. We stayed beside her for a long time, holding her, touching her.
Karen took care of calling the mortuary, while Mei-ling tried to make sure we had everything we needed whether it was a drink or tissues. Clara pulled Neena’s limp and lifeless body into her arms tighter and held her as she sobbed into the crook of her neck, telling her she loved her over and over again. Before they came to take her body, I lay on the other side of her and wrapped my arm around them both wondering how in the hell anyone could experience this much pain and survive it.
I felt gutted.
When it was time for them to take her body, I stood and looked down at my daughter. She was mine. She was the best of me.
Bending down, I press a firm kiss to her forehead. “You are my most epic adventure, princess.”
It took a while to coax Clara away from Neena so they could take her. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Clara collapsed, her body racked with sobs. She was so emotional she could barely breathe. Marcus and Mei-ling left. They just couldn’t take seeing her that way. They felt lost themselves. I told Karen we needed to be alone and she quickly packed her supplies and left. I scooped Clara up and carried her upstairs, setting her on the toilet. I ran a bath and as the tub filled, I undressed us both. I pulled her to her feet, and we stepped in together, me sitting down first, then her between my legs. The back of her head lay against my chest as I squeezed water from a washcloth over her chest, neck, and shoulders. She wouldn’t talk. Her body shook as she sucked in ragged breaths. The sounds she made as she sobbed were those of torture. It was the sound of my own despair. I also didn’t speak. Words were just that—words. I focused on making her feel me. My presence. That I was with her.
After our bath, I dried her off and wrapped us each in a towel and led her to the bed. I curled my body to hers and kissed her neck softly as I gently rubbed her arm. I don’t know how long we lay there before she fell asleep, but I refused to move. I didn’t want to do anything to disturb her short moment of peace.
As for me, I’ve never hurt so badly in my life. I’ve always thought of myself as a tough guy, but this . . . loosing Neena . . . it’s choking. But when Neena told me her wishes for after she passed, this was one of them.
“Promise me you’ll take care of Mom. Be strong for her. Don’t let her die with me. Promise me, Dad.”
That night I closed my eyes as I inched a little closer to Clara. With my mouth to Clara’s shoulder, I whispered, “I’ll take care of her, princess. I promise.”
The viewing was lovely, minus the reporters that gawked outside of our home and the funeral home. Desperately Seeking Epic touched so many people. The world mourned a little girl they’d never even met.
It’s been a month since she left us. With each day, I feel it getting a little easier to breathe. I miss her. It’s almost like a weight around my neck I miss her so badly. There are days when I open my eyes and expect to see her watching me with a camera in her hands, pointed at me.
Since the day her ashes were given to us, Paul has separated small amounts into tiny Baggies. Neena always wanted to travel. Now she would. We’ll take a little bit of her to Brazil, China, and a few other places. This was her request. The remainder is in my lap right now as I sit in the front area of Sky High. Mills is setting up his laptop to show us something he says Neena left for us. Paul is beside me, with Marcus beside him. Ashley and Zane are standing to the side.
When it’s all set up, Mills turns to us and says, “You guys ready?”
I’m already weepy, but I nod yes. Paul rubs my back as Mills hits play and the screen comes to life.
The first thing we see is Neena.
“Hi, Mom, Dad, Marcus,” she says. Her big, brown eyes stare at us through the screen and my heart wants to burst out of my chest. Her scalp is bald, which tells me she must have recorded this a while ago, before things got really bad.
“I just wanted to tell you I love you one more time. And I wanted to say thank you for loving me. I wanted to show you some of my favorite memories and moments. I wanted you to see my life through my eyes.” She smiles and looks off as if she’s thinking, then her gaze moves back to the camera. “So here it is.”
I wipe my nose with a tissue as the screen flicks back to life. It’s video footage that Marcus took of me holding Neena the day she was born. That’s followed by several clips of me bathing her for the first time, her sleeping in her crib, and me feeding her peas as she dribbled it out of her mouth. The clips are short, but they go on and on, reminding me of the beautiful baby and toddler she once was. Some of the footage flips to her with Marcus when I was recording them. We laugh at one where Neena was three and trying to hit a ball off a stand. She accidentally swung it the wrong way and clocked Marcus in the face. Another is of the two of them holding hands as they jump into the pool together. My little girl was so healthy then. We’re crying and laughing all at once, the happy memories so heartbreaking. Eventually the footage switches to things Neena recorded: me singing as I dry my hair, and me pulling burnt cookies out of the oven as I wince against the clouds of smoke. Then there’s Paul. Short clips of some of his stunts, then of the first night she met him when I opened the door. She’d zoomed in on us, the way we looked at each other. It’s amazing the things she captured, what she saw, and how she’s showing us the world through her eyes. Everyone laughs at the footage of Paul and Marcus wrestling, their faces beet red as they huff. Then there’s the footage of Paul and I asleep, his arm around me. We look so peaceful. My favorite is the shaving footages, when she filmed Paul shaving my face, then I filmed her shaving his. That was a good day. The last image is just a shot of our table where she carved her name under Paul’s.
The screen goes back to her, a big smile on her face, her eyes glossed over with emotion.
“Remember . . . no good-byes,” she reminds us. “There’s only see you later. And until we meet again.”
She blows us a kiss.
“See you later, alligators.” And then she’s gone. I clutch the urn of her ashes in my lap as if I’m hugging her. Paul sniffles beside me and clears his throat. Even Marcus is sniffling. Mills closes the laptop and pulls out the USB memory stick. He hands it to Paul. Paul takes it and clutches it in his hand, nodding a thank you to him.
Once we’ve collected ourselves, we load in our cars and head to the airfield. My heart is thundering and I hold the urn tightly.
You have to do this, Clara, I remind myself. This is what she wanted. It’s one of the la
st things she ever asked for.
The pilot gives us a thumbs-up and the plane roars to life and Paul leads me to it, squeezing my hand, trying to comfort me. I glance back and see Marcus, Ashley, Zane, and Mills watch us climb in the plane just as the sun is about to set. Zane brings his camera out, ready to film. Once we’re on board and the plane takes off, Paul leans over so I can hear him.
“It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
I nod animatedly as I suck in a deep breath.
When we’ve reach the proper altitude, Paul pats my leg, letting me know it’s time for us to hook ourselves together. I get on my knees and turn my back to him so he can connect us. He hooks us together and pushes me gently so that I’ll move toward the door. Then he opens it and the wind rushes in causing my hair to fly everywhere. I tug the bag of Neena’s ashes out of the urn and hold it tightly.
“It’s time, Clara,” Paul tells me. I’m shaking I’m so terrified. I know I’m safe. I know Paul has done this a million times. I just can’t help it. But I know it’s time. I put my feet out on the small platform, bracing myself against the wind. He’s explained the procedure to me several times, so I know what to do when he tells me to.
“On the count of three,” he yells. “One. Two. Three!”
Then . . . we’re flying. For a few seconds, I don’t breathe as the adrenaline pumps through me. The dive seems to go in slow motion, yet it happens in the blink of an eye.
When he pulls the chute, we lurch slightly and our fall slows. The view is breathtaking. “This is amazing,” I say.
Paul chuckles. “See what you’ve been missing out on?”
I look up as much as I can, and see something floating off the side of the chute. The way the fading sunlight is shining, I can’t make it out. “What is that?” I inquire.
“Her purple scarf,” he replies.
My heart swells with love for this man as my eyes tear up. “Paul,” I say his name. “Thank you for being so strong through all of this. I couldn’t have survived it without you.”
“I’m here, Clara. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. Where you go, I go.”
I let out a soft sigh. They were the exact words I needed to hear. We’ve been through so much. We’ve both made so many mistakes. We’ve both lost greatly. But we still have each other. No other man has made me feel the way Paul James does. No man ever will.
He is it for me.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
“Let’s let our girl fly,” he answers.
I clutch the bag once more, saying one last farewell to my daughter. “Live free, Neena. I love you.” Opening the bag, I tilt it, slowly letting Neena’s ashes drift softly into the air. The ashes float out in a stream, dissipating before us. When I’ve poured the last of them, I smile through my tears as Paul kisses my temple.
Then he whispers, “Rest in peace, baby.”
The office is closed when I pull into the parking lot. The hours were different years ago when I came here almost weekly to interview Paul and Clara. I went to their house first, but there was no answer when I knocked. With an hour to kill, I play on my phone as I sit in my rental car and wait.
It’s twenty before noon when a Ford truck pulls in and parks beside me. He’s oblivious to me being there. I had backed into the parking spot. When Paul climbs out, I smile to myself. Last I saw him his hair was dark with hints of gray, but now it would seem the opposite. Gray hair or not, he still looks incredibly handsome.
As he unlocks the office door, I climb out of my car and approach him, clearing my throat to alert him of my presence. He turns and it takes him a few seconds to recognize me, but when he does, his face lights up with a gigantic grin.
“You sure grew up,” he chuckles as he opens his arms up for a hug.
I snort a laugh and hug him. He’s more mellow now. “I’m all grown up, but I’m still a pain in the ass.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second.”
We pull away and he cocks his head to the side, a thoughtful expression on his face. “How have you been?”
I give a nervous smirk. “Good,” I answer halfheartedly. Paul’s eyes narrow and I can tell he isn’t buying my answer. “I was hoping to catch you and Clara together.”
Paul turns back to the door and proceeds to unlock it while he says, “Let’s give her a call. She went into town this morning to do some shopping but she should be back home by now.”
He holds the door open for me and after I enter, he says, “Be right back. No one’s here yet. Bowman and Larry won’t be in for another hour or two. Make yourself comfortable.”
Leaving me in the front office area, he rushes to the back. I’m assuming to call Clara. I let my gaze lazily search the walls, lingering on each photo. Most are of Paul and the other jumpers diving alone or tandem with clients. Then there’s some of Paul and Clara. I smile and my heart swells when I find one of them on their wedding day shoving cake in each other’s faces. It feels good to see them happy. I always wondered if they’d made it after Neena passed away.
Paul returns and hands me a bottled water and together we stare at the wedding photo. “How’d you convince her to say yes?” I tease as I twist the cap on the bottle.
Paul shrugs. “I have no idea,” he laughs.
We make small talk for a few minutes before Clara arrives, breezing in with a wide smile on her face. I’m amazed at how well she looks. I thought they’d both look so much older, but time has been good to them.
“Ashley.” She beams as she embraces me, squeezing me tightly. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” I admit. Clara pulls away, her suspicious gaze running over my body.
Does she know? “Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m good.”
We all take a seat and chat about the past. They ask about Zane and Mills, who are both married with children. Zane works for his father’s company laying concrete, and Mills is a graphic designer for a small company in Manhattan. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other, but Facebook allows us to stay in touch.
“And where did life lead that stubborn little pain in the ass we met years ago?” Paul jests. It’s no secret he thought that about me. And he was right. I was hungry and relentless. I was a teenager trying to tell a story that was beyond my ability to truly understand. I knew it was a love story. I also knew it was a sad story. But I had no idea the magnitude and depth that Desperately Seeking Epic really entailed. I was proud of what I put together. The story was a hit and catapulted me into the spotlight. After all, I was only seventeen and somehow I’d managed to get this family to give me exclusive rights to their story. It’s always been their story. But my youth prevented me from seeing it as such. Back then, it was my story. It was my platform. And as I went on talk shows and became the one being interviewed, I never thought differently.
But I do now.
Now, all of that just doesn’t seem as important as it once did.
I grin at Paul, knowing he’s just kidding around with me. But it strikes a chord. I wonder now if they think I did their story justice. Do they feel I did Neena justice?
“I got a scholarship to Northwestern where I majored in journalism. I’ve been working for the New York Times for the past few years.”
“That’s amazing,” Clara beams. “I knew you were going to do something big.”
“I just gave my notice, actually,” I tell her. Both of their smiles fade and they watch me, waiting for me to explain.
Swallowing hard, I chuckle. “I’m moving back here. I actually just bought a house not far from here.”
“Well good for you,” Paul cheers as he rubs Clara’s back. I can see under the glass surface of the table that her hand is on his thigh. They’re still crazy about each other.
“Some things have come up recently . . .” I pause, searching for my next words. “I’ve been thinking about Neena a lot.”
Paul’s eyes flicker down, his mouth curving into a sad smile.
“I hope you felt your s
tory was presented okay and did you all justice.”
Clara looks to Paul, her gaze sad, before she returns it to me. “Ashley, honey, you gave Neena exactly what she wanted. We’re proud of you.”
Paul nods in agreement just as my throat starts to tickle. They’re going to make me cry. “I think Neena would love hearing about all the success you’ve found.”
I nod in appreciation. “Was it worth it?” I dare ask. Paul squints his eyes, confused by my question. But Clara’s mouth curves up gently and her eyes gloss over. She knows exactly what I’m asking. She slides her hands across the table and takes mine, squeezing it gently.
“I’d do it a million times over if it meant it was the only way to have had her. Her life, her love . . . they were my greatest gifts.” She flicks her eyes to Paul and smiles.
Paul nods. “Our most epic adventure.”
Tears stream down my face, then Clara begins to cry, too. Still holding my hand, she says, “You’re going to be a wonderful mother, Ashley.” I bob my head, unable to speak as the tears keep falling. Clara stands and rounds the table, bending down to hug me. “I like to think, if Neena were alive, she’d be a lot like you. Fearless. Ambitious.”
Paul slides a box of tissues toward me and I take a few, cleaning myself up, then take a deep breath. When I stand, Clara places her hand on my belly. “Boy?” she questions.
“We don’t find out until next week,” I sniffle. “My fiancé, Brian, he wants to know, but I think I’d like it to be a surprise.”
