by Devon Monk
Everything about Lu was fire and warmth. She was home and peace and love, and I could hear her memories calling to me, our memories. I could feel her reaching for me.
Even though it would be disastrous for me to reach back, any second longer leaving Stella there, possessing her body, making it more and more possible that she would never be able to be free of her, I paused.
“Brogan?” Lu’s voice, Lu’s heart so strong, her emotions a wave of water, heavy enough to drown me, an ocean of death I’d welcome. That one word, my name, carrying every emotion of a long, long life wanting, lonely, loving, angry, determined.
“Lula,” I breathed. My voice echoed softly, as if being repeated by polished bells, hung waiting in the still air.
“I love you,” she said, just as she always did.
“I love you.”
And there was more, so much more to say, my senses drowning in the scent of flowers, in the warmth of her pulse, the thrum of her spirit, the echo of her soul in me reaching for home, just as my soul in her reached toward me.
It would be easy to stay here. To touch and remain, to hold, to lose myself in her and keep her for all the time I had left.
But Stella was there, cool and slick, spreading out too thin, like a membrane between Lu and me, a thin, wailing wall that was tattering with each beat of Lu’s heart.
“Please,” Lu said, her voice straining.
It broke me. “Yes,” I agreed, even though I didn’t know what she was asking. I would do anything. Anything for her.
“Stay,” she breathed.
“Dotty?” Stella howled, a far-off cry that somehow felt like it was surrounding me, swallowing me whole. It was that, the sister crying, lost, her thoughts spinning, as if caught by a hard wind, her form failing with each thump, thump, thump, that shook me free from taking that last step. From falling into Lu and never leaving.
I am a strong man. I had spent years holding on to hope, years being beside Lu and still alone. I’d walked every step of this path with her, every second, minute, hour—and days, days, endless days.
But it took everything I had to pull myself from the siren call of Lu’s body, her soul, her heart and turn instead to Stella’s failing presence.
Just my hand. It was just my hand joined with Lu’s, but it also carried all of my attention, my focus, my will.
I flexed my fingers. Stella was thinner, her voice so distant, it was a mosquito buzz. But she was there, not shattered yet. Close, so close, but still whole.
I focused on her, all my will, all my intention, and gently gathered the thin, thinner, thinnest cloth of Stella into my palm. It was like trying to catch the frozen wind and fold it into a pocket square.
For a moment, I thought I’d waited too long. That I was too late and she would be lost, torn apart into tatters, shattered inside of Lu, but then I could feel the weight, feather-light in my palm, becoming heavier and heavier as I flexed my fingers and drew more of her toward me.
It felt like I was suspended there forever, pulling the ghost’s soul and spirit to me, while Lu called to me. I wanted nothing more than to run straight into the fire of Lu.
And then…
….I pulled.
“Dotty?” Stella was sitting in the chair in the corner, just as I had first seen her, the knitting unspooled in her lap, needles tucked into the ball of ghostly yarn. She looked shocky, blurry at the edges, weak and thin, as if shadows had eaten up the bulk of her.
I was still standing in the middle of the little side table, but had swiveled my hips to throw Stella like I’d been hauling on a rope.
I twisted to face Lu again.
She had collapsed against the headboard. Her eyes were open and staring blankly at the edge of the wall where it met the ceiling.
Dot held her hand and was shifting to one side to give Lu room to stretch out. Encouraging her to wake up.
“It’s okay,” Dot said. “Everything’s okay. You’re okay. Just keep breathing. Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
I exhaled and took one more dangerous step closer to Lu. When I stretched out my hand, it trembled. I gently brushed her cheek.
“Come on, love. You need to come back for me.”
A heartbeat, two, then life filled her blank eyes and she blinked.
“There, now, there.” Dot patted Lu’s hand and fussed with the coverlet, moving it so Lu’s legs could unbend from the cross they were in. “Let me help you lie down. Just Lu, not Stella now, right? Lu?”
Lu groaned softly and dragged her hand up to her head like there was a bowling ball attached to it.
She squeezed her eyes closed, and another soft groan escaped her lips.
“Lu?” Dot asked.
“Yes,” Lu barely breathed.
“Water? Aspirin?” Dot was on her feet. She’d dried her face and wiped her tear-streaked fingers on her pants. She was all business now, and I appreciated that she was putting Lu’s needs in front of her own need to process the conversation with her sister. The forgiveness, the reminder of love.
“Yes,” Lu barely whispered. She was moving like she was weighted down by boulders, working her legs out one at a time, inch by inch, as she slowly rolled onto her side, away from the window.
“I’ll be right back. Stella, Brogan, keep an eye on her.” Dot’s cheeks were hot red, but she nodded to the chair where Stella was sitting, as if it were totally natural to talk to an empty space.
“We will,” Stella said, happiness coloring her voice. She was starting to look a little more solid, and upon hearing her sister use her name, didn’t seem quite so in shock. “Is Lu okay?”
“She will be.” I tried not to blame her for Lu’s condition, but obviously I wasn’t all that successful.
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t find my way back. There were too many, so much…her life…oh, Brogan, how do either of you hold on? How are you both still alive?”
“Love,” I said, not looking away from Lu. I bent and brushed my fingertips across her hair, wishing I could tuck it behind her ear as she curled up, her face, pressed into the soft pillow, paler than the white fabric.
She stretched one hand out across the remaining space of the bed, looking for me, reaching for me.
“I’m here. I got you.” I opened and closed my hands a couple times, reminding myself that I couldn’t get lost in her again. Not if we were both going to come out of this alive.
I lowered myself to the edge of the bed and stretched in the narrow space there, facing her, my arm up over the top edge of her pillow, my other arm across her waist, hand resting on her back.
She tipped her head down more, instinctively knowing where my chest was, needing to burrow in closer to me.
She was asleep before Dot returned with the water.
Chapter Fifteen
Lu only got up once in the middle of the night. She drank the glass of water and took the aspirin Dot had left by the bed, then groped her way to the bathroom, eyes shut, and ran hot water into the bath. It took her a couple tries to get out of her clothes. I hissed when I saw the bruises down her arms and legs.
Some of those bruises were huge and swollen, others were fingerprint size, as if ghostly fingers had been pressing from beneath her flesh, trying to scrabble a way out from under her skin.
I sat with her while she lingered, eyes still closed, lights off, in the water, bunching up so it covered her chest to her chin but left her knees poking out of the water like two islands in a sea.
“I’m okay,” she whispered. “Just tired. I’m okay.”
“Yeah, you are,” I said, from where I had lowered myself onto the floor so that I was sitting next to her, but opposite, my feet toward her head, her feet toward mine. “Just rest. Just rest, love.”
She waved one hand through the water, her palm tipping up for a second. I would have taken it, but she shifted, crossing her arms over her ribs. Her breathing evened out as she slept.
I watched to make sure she didn’t slip down and drown, and after about
a half hour, I was sure the water had cooled off, so I woke her gently, by calling her name and touching her cheek until she stirred.
She toweled off and, wrapping the towel around her, found her way back to the bed, tucking under the covers before falling asleep again.
“You are so going to regret not brushing your hair before you fell asleep,” I told her.
She didn’t stir.
I needed to check on Lorde, because I’d promised, and because I was worried about her, too, but I didn’t want to leave Lu behind.
“I have to go check on Lorde, love,” I said.
“I can watch after her,” Stella said. I’d forgotten she was in the chair still. “If anything happens, I can come get you.”
I didn’t want anyone looking after her but me, and certainly not the person who had been a big part of why Lu was hurting, but I didn’t have much of a choice. I nodded tightly. “I’ll be at the vet’s. In the back. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
I moved, not waiting for her to reply, because I was still angry at her, even though that anger was unjust.
The world was a blur, empty to me, unreal, and then I stood in the vet’s office in front of Lorde’s kennel.
Leon was sleeping on the cot opposite the kennels, on his side facing them. Lorde was the only animal there tonight, and she lifted her head the moment I arrived.
“There you are, pretty girl.” I crouched and pushed my hand through the bars so I could pet her head. “How are you feeling?”
She wagged her tail, and her mouth opened, showing that ridiculous black-tongue smile of hers.
“Lu’s doing fine. I’m doing fine too. We’ll be here in the morning to pick you up.”
She made as if to move, but I scratched under her chin. “Stay,” I said. “Stay here. We’ll see you in a couple hours.”
I shifted my hand again to scratch behind her ears, then stroked her back, careful of the bandaging wrapping her leg. She finally settled back down, laying her head on her front paw, her eyes trained on me, slowly, slowly closing.
When I finally stood and stretched the stiffness out of my back, she was snoring softly.
I checked on Leon, who hadn’t stirred, then I returned to Lu’s side.
“She’s been asleep this whole time,” Stella said, as she continued with her knitting. “Dot peeked in once and put more aspirin and water by the bed.”
I grunted in acknowledgment. Even though I didn’t sleep, I was exhausted. So I settled into bed next to Lu and closed my eyes, letting the soothing clacking of ghostly knitting needles tick away the time.
“Really?” Lu grumbled. “You let me sleep on wet hair?” She tugged the brush, trying to get it through her tangled red curls. “You promised you’d never let me do this to myself.”
I sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching my wife snarl at the mirror. She was beautiful. Still pale and moving slowly from the experience yesterday, but vibrant. Alive.
“Honey, I couldn’t have woken you up if I’d tried. How about braiding it for the day?”
“Fine. I’ll braid it. But I’m going to buy that fancy detangler that smells like cookies, and you’re gonna have to deal with it making you hungry.”
I chuckled. “Noted.”
“The truck’s done,” she said, as she pulled her hair back with both hands. She split it into thirds and began the simple, soothing act of setting her unruly hair into one long rope that hung over her left shoulder.
“I know. Lorde’s ready to be picked up too.”
She nodded, not really looking at her reflection in the mirror. “I know I have to follow Hatcher.”
“But?”
“But I’m going to talk to Jo. Make sure she doesn’t want to rethink storming out of here over one little misunderstanding.”
“Maybe she’s not interested in Sunshine, babe. Maybe she’s not interested in settling down.”
Lu pulled a rubber band out of her front pocket. “I think she is. Looking for a place to settle down. And I don’t know why, but…I think this might be a good place for her. Even if Calvin isn’t the person she wants to be with.”
“There’s a god who deals with all of this stuff, you know, Lu. Love is complicated. Hell, life is complicated, ours more than most. Maybe we should just let this be. Hit the road, find that journal.”
“I’m thinking you just want to get in the truck and go,” she said. “But I’m going to pick up Lorde and talk to Jo first. Then we’ll see what we’ll see.”
“Which is code for you can’t resist one more chance to meddle.” I sighed, even though I wasn’t really upset about this.
How could I be upset that somehow, even after all these years, even after all this pain, the woman I loved was still trying to find love in the world, joy in the world? She had no reason to do so, not with how the fates had treated us, how the gods had ignored us. But she still saw good in the world.
I refused to take that away from her.
“You have toothpaste on the corner of your mouth.” I stood and reached for her just as she pressed her thumb on the edge of her lip. I pressed my thumb over hers, and her eyes fluttered shut at my touch.
I didn’t move. She didn’t move.
Nothing in the world moved but the beating of her heart.
“I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” I replied, my voice rough with tears I couldn’t shed. Not yet. Because I hadn’t given up on us. Wouldn’t give up on us.
“Let’s go get the dog, the truck, and see if we can help these two kids fall in love. It’s a freaking country song, Lu. Our life’s a damn country song.”
I don’t know how much of that got through to her, but some of it must have. She laughed, just a little chuckle in her chest. And if there was a glitter of tears in the corners of her eyes, I pretended not to see.
Dot didn’t want us to go.
“Are you sure?” She stood in front of the lobby door, holding the latch so Lu couldn’t pass. “I’d be happy for you to stay here for a little longer. For as long as you want. I have that cushion for Lorde we can put in the room. You know I’d love the company while she’s recovering. You know Stella would too.”
Lu wore black jeans, combat boots, and a pale green tank top that made her braid look like a river of fire over her shoulder. “I thought Stella wanted you to book a hot guy.”
Dot’s eyes widened. She tittered and nodded. “She did. I’m going to too. Maybe advertise for a male stripper?”
“Whoa!” I laughed.
“If you don’t, she’ll never forgive you,” Lu said, somehow with a straight face.
Dot smiled, but her eyes were starting to go wet. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you. How I can…”
Lu pulled her into a sturdy hug. “You’re welcome. That’s all. That’s enough.”
Dot nodded and gave Lu an extra squeeze before stepping back. “Any time you come through here, any time at all, you are welcome in my home. In my sister’s home too.”
Stella floated into the room and stood next to Dot. “She’s such a softy,” she said. “If Lu doesn’t leave now, she’s going to have to draw a name for the family holiday gift exchange.”
I grunted, and wisely didn’t say anything about how Stella was looking a little choked up herself.
“Thank you,” Lu said. “If I come through here again, I’ll be sure to stop by.”
“Do that. Please do that. You’ll never have to pay for a room here. This is your home too. If you want it. When you need it.”
“As long as there aren’t hot guys staying here,” Stella added. “Well, probably then too. Dot has a blow up mattress that fits in her office.”
Dot finally stepped aside and opened the door.
“Good-bye, Stella,” I said. “Don’t steal any more magic books, okay?”
“Wait,” she said. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your part of the deal. I’m sorry that man took it.”
I rubbed at my chin, scratching at the stubble ther
e that never grew into a full beard. “It wasn’t in your control. I know that.”
She bit her lip, glanced at Dot, glanced at Lu, who had hefted her duffle to her shoulder again and was walking out the door.
“There’s another magic item,” Stella blurted.
“There are a lot of magic items,” I said.
“Not like this one. I saw it. A half-staff carved with creatures and symbols and runes. The woman who rented out the room a few years ago had it with her. It glowed. And everything on the staff moved.”
Magic was a lot more common than people suspected. It was in the soil, in the air, in all of our blood. Still, magic items, real magic items, were carefully guarded, protected, and most of all: hidden.
Lu made a lot of money off real magical artifacts. When she found them.
“You remember the woman’s name?”
She closed her eyes, her lips moving like she was paging back through her memories. “Betsy…no, Betty. Yes, that’s it.” She opened her eyes. “Betty Moss.”
“Betty Moss. All right. Thank you.”
She nodded. “What you gave me, well, that’s invaluable. If I see anything else that comes through here, I’ll let you know when you come back.”
“If we come back.”
She smiled. “You will. Dot’s probably going to bribe the sheriff to arrest you if you drive down the highway and you don’t stop in first.”
“Good to know.” Lu was out the door now, walking, even though Dot had offered, repeatedly, to drive her to the vet’s office.
It was time to say good-bye. Time to leave.
“Safe travels, Stella,” I said, in the common way of those who drove the Route.
“Safe travels, Brogan. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for. You deserve it. You both deserve some answers.”
I was already striding through the door, but I waved my hand in acknowledgment. I hated that she had any of Lu’s memories, that she had gotten to relive even a moment of our life together. Even if some of those moments were sorrow and horror.
I knew she meant well, but I was jealous to hold what we had to ourselves.
