The Road of Life

by Lorena Franco

  “Ofcoursehewill.Thereisnothingimpossible.”Isaid,lookingatStuart,whosmiledat meinappreciation.

  “Imetheryearsago.Averypeculiarwoman...”Hesaid.ButwhatStuartcouldn’timagine wasthat,inanotherlife,thatmodelhadbeenveryclosetohim.

  LucilleSpencer...Inanotherlineoftimeandspace,shehadbeenStuart’swife,beingthe personhehadleftPatriciafor.SheherselftoldmeallaboutitonMainStreet,outsidethepub whereMarkwaswaitingforherandwheremyFriendsweredrinkingbeer...Inthatotherlife, themodelhaddiedinacaraccidentandhadleftalittleboyintheworldthatwasidenticalto Matt,giventhathelookedlikeStuart,bythenameofJohn.Icouldfeeltheabsenceofthatchild deeply...but,selfishly,IwashappythatitwasmewhohadthecesareanscarthatIhadseenin themirrorthatverymorning.Ihadalwaysfeltembarrassedbyit...nowitwasthepartofmy bodythatIlovedmost.Everythingcoincided.Bothworldshadsomethingsincommon.While IwatchedhowStuartandPatricialookedateachotherlovingly,Irememberedthewordsthat Mark had said to me: “Be sure that what we have is ours in this world and in all of the parallelworldsthatcanormayexist.” StuartandPatriciahadalwaysbelongedtoeachother, itwaswrittenintheirfateandinthedecisionstheybothmade.Ihadonlybeenanotherpiecein thepuzzle,destinedtogiveMattlife.

  WhenPatricialeftandStuartandMattfellasleep,Isatdowninthelivingroomtoreadthe bookwrittenbytheMarkLudwigofthisworld,ofwhoIonlyrememberedasbeingtheboy whohadthrownthebasketballatmyfacewhenwewerechildren.Thecoverwasbacktohow ithadbeenbefore...TheimageoftheperfectwomanwithredlipsintheworldwhereIhad beenwithMarkhaddisappeared,makingwayforthecoverofthetwosmilingchildren.That basketballthattheboywasholding...theshiningraysofsun.Suddenly,itallmadesense...It was like a sign that Mark, although unconsciously, had sent me through the cover from this worldinwhichIhadhatedhim.

  Istartedtoread ForgettingthatIforgotyou with the same excitement that I had felt the first time and noting that, even though the style was exactly the same, not a single word coincided with the novel in the other world. The name of the main character was the same, Oliva.However,MarkandIhadneverbeentogetherandsowehadnevermentionedthename thatwewouldgiveourfirstson;andsothenameoftheothermaincharacterwasLucas.And eachandeveryoneofthesituationsinthebookwasverydepressing.OliviaandLucaswere destinedtomeetandtobetogether,butthatneverhappened.Lucashadthrownabasketballat Oliviawhentheyhadbeenchildrentogetherattention,butinsteadcausedthegirltohatehim.

  IlaughedwhenIreadthatscene...andIcriedatmanyothers.MyheartflutteredwhenIsaw thatthenovelwasalsodedicatedtome.Tothewomanwhohadneverbeenthere,thewoman hehadlovedinsilencefromthetimehewasachild.Attheendofthebook,Lucasdiesjust whenhemeetsOliviaandfinallyhastheopportunitytobewithher.Verydepressingindeed...I closedthebookandstaredintospaceforafewminutes.Ididn’twantandendinglikethatfor me... for our story. The optimistic side that Mark taught me to have told me that everything wouldworkout.Andifitdidn’t,itwasn’ttheendofthestory...ofourstory.

  StuartandPatriciadecidedtospendaromanticweekendinParis,whileMattandItravelledto KutztownonFridayafterschool.Throughouttheweek,Icontinuedtoreceivecallsfrommyex father-in-law offering me sums of money that I didn’t know could even exist in ten lives. I refusedalloftheoffersandtheydecidednottofirethetenthousandworkersinthecompanyto substitute them with sophisticated machines that, at that moment in time, would cost each personontheBoardofDirectorstonsofmoney.Iwashappyfortheworkersinthecompany whowouldnothavetoseethenastyfaceofthecoldandcalculatingexecutivevicepresident thatIhaddecidedtobe.IwasalsohappythatIwouldnothavetoseeVirginiaandherostrich neckagain,although,atthebeginningofmylifeintheotherworldthatBonniehadsentmeto,I hadmissedherduringbriefmomentsofweakness.

  WhenIwalkeddowntotheparkinglotandclimbedbackintomymagnificentPorsche,I feltridiculous.IwishedIcouldbebackinfrontofthesteeringwheelofmyoldyetdiscreet red Fiat. Two hours later, Matt and I were driving down the street that would lead us to Kutztown.JustasIrememberedit,assoonaswearrived,wecouldfeelthefreshairinour lungs.Mattlookedoutatthelandscapethroughthewindowwithasmileandfullofcuriosity.

  HelikedwhathesawandIexplainedtohimthat,insummer,thecorncouldgrowsohighthat itcouldevenblocktheviewofthemountains.Maybeyearslater,hewouldmakethedecision toleavethetowninsearchofadventure.Maybethetimewouldcomeinhislifeinwhichsuch a small place would smother him and he would feel the need to return to the city. It didn’t matter,wewouldenjoythemoment.WewouldliveinKutztown;thatwasmynewdecision...a decisionthatwouldchangetherouteofmylife,withoutbecomingobsessedwiththeideathat everything could be different in other parallel worlds. I thought about Bonnie again. Even thoughIhadsufferedterriblyduetoMatt’sabsence,inallhonesty,shehaddonemeafavor.

  ShehadopenedmyeyesandmademeseethatthelifeIhadn’tchosenwasmuchbetterthanI couldhaveeverimagineditwouldbe.

  Thefarmsdisappearedfromthelandscapeandwedroveintothewonderfulworldofthe housesofKutztown.Brightandcharacteristic,Mattsaidthathewouldlovetoliveinoneof them. We would use that weekend to visit the houses that were up for sale, which I guessed wouldbefew...buttherewouldbesome.Irememberedthehousethathadbelongedtolittle oldDorothyandmyfearandobsessionofturningonallofthelightsincaseherspiritwanted tocomeandvisitme.IlaughedasMattlookedatmeattentively.

  “You’rehappy,mommy.”Hesaid,laughing.

  “Iam,Matt.Veryhappy...”

  A few minutes later, my Porsche, observed with curiosity by the few inhabitants of Kutztownthatwerewalkingalongthestreet,parkedinfrontofmymother’shouse.Icouldsee herfromthecar.JustasIrememberedher...plantingflowersinthefrontgarden.Itookadeep breathandtoldMatttogetoutofthecar.WhenIfeltready,Ididthesamething.Momremoved herglovesandlookedatmewithtearsinhereyesandasmilethatIwouldneverbeableto

  forget. She opened her arms wide and, without having to say a word, we hugged for a long while.Mattlookedupatus,understandingthesituation.Eighteenyearsweretoomanyyears.

  And,justlikeIhadsaidtomylittleboyjustdaysbefore,youarenevertoooldforyourmom togiveyouahug.Itdidn’ttakehimlongtounderstandthat.Fromthatmomenton,Mattnever refusedoneofmyhugsanditwasalwayshimwhocametogivemeone.

  MomandIpulledapart,butjustalittlebit.Welookedateachotherwithtearsinbothof oureyesandaknotinourthroatsthatpreventedusfromtalking.

  “I’vemadetea...”Shewhispered,lookingatMatt.No,notea...Ithoughtrememberingthe sourtasteoftheteathatIdrankintheotherworld.“Andyoumustbemygrandson.”Shesaid, smiling. I looked at her hair and I was sad to see that she was wearing the blond wig that irritatedherandthatshetookoffwhenshewasinsidethehouse.Momhadcancer.Andtheday shewouldleaveuswasthetwenty-fifthofDecember.

  “Yes.”Mattnoddedhappily.

  “CanIgiveyouahug?”Momasked

  “Ofcourse,you’renevertoooldtogetahugfromyourmomorgrandma.”Mysonsaid, winkingatme.

  IwashappytoseemomandMatthugging.Lookingateachotherasiftheyhadknowneach otherforever.Asifitwasnotthefirsttimetheyweremeeting.

  Onthefireplace,momhadplacedallofmyphotos.Theridiculousones,theniceonesand thosethatcou
ldembarrassme.ThehousewasexactlythesameasIremembered.Itwaslike going back in time, as if I were in a constant déjà vu. But thanks to that déjà vu, I wouldn’t drinktheteamomwasalreadymaking.

  “Iprefercoffee.”Isaidwithasmile.

  We chatted. Matt listened to us in silence and with a permanent smile on his face. I promisedmomthatIwouldstaywithher,eventhoughIknewthelittletimeshehadleftinthe casethat,inthisworld,herillnesswassoadvanced.Shelookedhappy,happytofinallysee me.Wehadbothmademistakes.Me,withmybehavior,her,withherisolation.

  Shortly after, she informed me that Dorothy’s house had gone up for sale a week before.

  Thathousebelongedtome...inallofthepossibleparallelworlds,atsomepointinmylifeI would have ended up there. Without further ado, we went to see it with Dorothy’s granddaughter.

  “Thereisnoelectricity,butyoucanseealloftherooms,right?”YoungGiselleasked.

  “It’sfine.”Ireplied,almostlaughing.IknewthatDorothyhadbetterthingstodothanvisit metochangetheTVchannelsorscaremeatnightatthefootofmybedinghostform.

  “Doyoulikeit?”

  “Iloveit.Doyoulikeit,Matt?”

  “Yes, and I know what bedroom I want.” He said, pointing to what had been my untidy roominanotherworld.

  “Thenwe’llbuyit.”Isaidhappily.

  WewentfordinneratBetty’sRestaurant.Momboastedaboutherdaughterbut,aboveall, abouthergrandsontoallofherfriendsandneighborsinthetown.Forme,itwaslikeIhad seenthemjustdaysbefore.Forthem,eighteenyearshadpassed...andtheygreetedmehappily, gladtoseemewithmymom.Withnoreproaches.Ihadalwaysimaginedthatmymomwould

  beratemeaboutmyabsenceandnotcaringabouther.Butthatdidn’thappen,thelovebetween a mother and daughter never disappears, despite all of the problems they may have or the distancebetweenthem.

  “Do you like your wrap, Matt? Is it better than the hamburgers at the Shake Shack?” I asked,laughingandrememberinghowChristinehadeatentwoburgersthenightbeforethenow inexistentexhibitionintheAgoraGallery.

  “I’mnotsure...theburgersatthe ShakeShack arereallygood.”Herepliedwithalaugh.

  IlikedthewaymymomlookedatMatt.Thatnight,whenhewenttosleep,momandIsat on the porch. We continued talking and, in the end, mom surprised me with a sentence that I wouldrememberfortherestofmylife.

  “See?Itoldyou...Mattwasrightthere...”Shesaid,pointingatmyheart.

  “What?”Iaskedinshock.

  “Everythingishowit’ssupposedtobe,dear...andinthis,oranyotherworldswecanexist in,wearedestinedtotravelalongwiththesoulsthatcomfortusandmakeourexistenceeasier.

  “Whatareyoutalkingabout?”

  “Youknowwhat,Nora...Don’tpretend.”Shewinkedatme.

  “Butonthephone,yousaidthatalotoftimehadpassed,thatyoufeltbad,that...”

  “Ihadtopretend.ButIrememberthatotherworld.Youwerewithmeandthatwasenough forme.IknewitwouldallworkoutandtheonlythingIamsorryaboutisthatyouhavetogo throughthepainthatmydyingcausedyou,again.”

  “So,ifyourememberthatotherworld...Mark?”

  “Markisdifferent.OnlyyouandIrememberthatworld.Doyouknowwhy?”Ishookmy head,confused.“Becauseweareunited.Morethanyoucouldhaveimaginedalloftheseyears.

  When a child leaves its mother’s stomach, even when the cord is cut, that union never disappears.Ilivedinthatparallelworldwithyou,Nora...and,althoughitwashardatfirst,I finallyunderstoodit.EventhoughyouwereawayfromMattforthreemonths,itwasthebest thingthatcouldhavehappenedtoyou.”

  “Ithoughtthat,ifItoldyou,youwouldthinkIwasmad.”

  “Iunderstand...butIwouldn’thave.Trustme.AndI’msorrythatIembarrassedyouinthe pastorthatyouthoughtthatyourmotherwasridiculous.”

  “No,mom.I’msorry.Pleaseforgiveme.”

  “Thereisnothingtoforgive.Amother,asyouknow,forgiveseverything.”

  EventhoughIhadn’tbeeninvitedbecausehardlyanybodyknewthatIhadreturnedtothetown, thefollowingdayatnoon,Iwenttothebarbecueheldonthefarm,which,justlikeintheother world,stillbelongedtoFrank.Matthadstayedathomehappilywithhisgrandma,eatingthe delicioushome-mademarmaladethatImissedsomuch.

  When I arrived, I saw Frank, Matthew and the twins Lisa and Julia; who, instead of drinkingbeer,werechoosinglargesteakstocook.Atleasttheywerethere,liketwostableand

  perfectcouples...somethinghadn’tchangedand,althoughaveryshorttimehadpassedforme, they hadn’t seen me in eighteen years. In this world, Frank didn’t have a beer belly and the twinsknewwhathair-dyewas.Igreetedthemhappilyandgavethemallahugbecause,inall honesty, I was happy to see them and see that they were well. I had missed them in the few daysthatIhadbeeninmyotherworld,inthelifeIhadchosen,whileIfinishedmakingallof myunforeseeabledecisions.

  “It’sbeensolong!”Frankexclaimed.

  “Eighteenyears.”Irepliedwithasmile.

  “Whydidyouwaitsolongtocome?”Juliaasked.

  “Life...fliesby.”

  At half past twelve, people began to arrive. People I knew and others I didn’t, but I had somethingtotalkaboutwithallofthem.Evenifitwasjustidlechatter.Andatoneo’clock,he arrived...aselegantasalways,discreetasusual...lookingaroundhimasifhewerelooking formeamongthempeopleand,whenhesawme,hewouldforgetabouttherestoftheworld.

  And that is what happened. I stared at him and, when he saw me, he couldn’t look away. I walkedovertoMarkwho,shylyandsomewhatconfused,greetedme.

  “You’retheboywhothrewabasketballatmyfaceyearsago...”Isaid,laughing.

  “Yourememberthat?It’sNora,right?”

  “MarkLudwig.”Ireplied,henoddedinsurprise.

  “I’vereadyourbook.It’sgreat.”

  “I’mverygladthatyouthinkso.”

  “Whatinspiredyou?”Iasked,hesmiledand,blushing,lookeddownattheground.

  “Byapersonalstory.”Helookedbackupatme,asifhehadknownmeforever.

  “Well,eventhoughit’sverysad,it’swonderfulIhopeyourpersonalstoryendsmuchbetter thanthenoveldid.”

  “I’msureitwill,Nora.Doyouhaveplansafterthebarbecue?”

  “No.”

  “CanIbuyyoudinner?”

  “Iwouldlovethat,Mark.”

  PARTFIVE

  ONEYEARLATER

  JustasIknew,momdiedonthetwenty-fifthofDecember2012.Everythinghappenedexactly thesameasithadintheparallelworldthatBonniehadsentmeto...Bonnie...Istillremember her, each day of my life. But not with hate or resentment, but with complete gratitude. If it hadn’thavebeenforherspell,Imostprobablywouldn’thaveknownwhathappinesswas.

  This story, unlike Mark Ludwig’s books, ends well. Despite the pain that my mother’s deathcausedme,andhowmuchherabsencehurts,thepeoplewithmeonthisjourneyaretruly angels.

  StuartandIseparatedamicablyandhestartedanewlifewithPatriciainNewYork.They havejustmovedintogetherandIwishthemallthebest.Sometimes,whentheycometospend the weekend with Matt, we go out for dinner. Mark, Stuart, Patricia and I, we make a good teamandwehavefuntogether.Stuart’sfatherisstillaliveandkicking,althoughheisaboutto retire and hand over the company to my now ex-husband. So much responsibility scares him but,ontheotherhand
,hisambitionandneedtobeextremelyrichandpowerful,helpshisfear todisappearinablinkonaneye.

  Matt is happy in Kutztown. He likes to go out and play with his new friends, to ride his bikeinthecountryandhelpFrankonthefarmwhileIlockmyselfupinmystudiosurrounded byblankcanvasesandinfinitepossibilitiesofcolorsforthem.Ithinkmylittleboyhasfallenin love...hetoldmetheotherdaythathethrewafootballatabeautifulblondegirlwithblueeyes whosatnexttohiminclass.Atfirst,ItoldhimoffandIexplainedtohimthat,ifhereallydid likethegirl,therewereotherwaystogetherattention,butIhavetoadmitthatthecoincidence touchedmyheart.

  Iunderstoodthatmyworkshop,justlikeoldDorothy’shouse,belongedtomeinthisand all of the other possible worlds. The forest full of aligned trees greeted me every morning, givingmetheinspirationIneededformypaintings.Yes!Iamanartist!GiventhatIwantedto learnnewtechniquesandtheory,IenrolledinArtaftermymomdied.And,attheageofthirty seven,IcansaythatIamstudyingmythirdcollegedegree,surroundedbyyoungpeopleready totakeontheworld.

  FourmonthsaftermovingtoKutztown,ImetChristine.Shewasworkingasawaitressin thepuband,assoonasIsawher,Iproposedthatshebemyassistant.Tiredofputtingupwith drunks,shehappilyacceptedmyproposalandwehavebecomegreatfriends.Sheputsupwith my crisis and blocks, she helps me with the orders and has organized three exhibitions in Kutztown. The rest will come by itself. In fact, the owner of the Agora Gallery called us, hopingthatwewilldoanexhibitiontheresoon.Whatbelongstouswillbeoursinthisandin anyotherpossibleparallelworld.

  SinceMarkmovedinwithmeandMatt,Iamnolongerobsessedwithturningonallofthe lightsinthecasethatoldDorothywantstopayavisit.I’mnolongerscared.IgaveMarkwhat hadbeenmyofficeinanotherlifesothathecouldfocusonhisnovels.Heisconstantlywriting and,ifthereissomethingthatIloveabouthim,itishisdetermination,happinessandoptimism.