Loving Your Lies (39 page)

Marie came in a few minutes later. Her eyes
glistening and her nose red. “Henri just called and said one of the
modules of the sprinkler broke. Water is flooding the vines. I will
go with Albert to help them fix it. It won’t take long.” She waited
for us to nod then scurried to the door with her gaze focused on
the floor. In the threshold, she stopped and looked over her
shoulder. “If anything happens, if your mother’s condition gets
worse, call me in immediately.”

We both nodded again. Then we returned to my
mother’s room.

“Is there anything I can get you?” I asked.
A wet cloth lay on the nightstand, and I patted her burning
forehead with it.

“No, dear. Just stay with me while I rest
for a moment.” Her eyes had already closed, so I remained silent
and kept caressing her hot face.

Julian knelt on the floor, his chin
supported on his bent arm that rested on my lap. There was no way
to say whether losing him or my mother hurt more. But the aching
coupled was too much to bear for one person. I yearned to close my
eyes like my mother and escape the pain.

After half an hour during which my legs went
numb and my back started to ache, Julian stood and urged me to the
wide lounging chair in front of the window. He slumped down first,
pulled me onto his lap, and cradled me against him.

“You know, as an angel,” he said softly with
the weight of honesty in his voice. “I’ve seen many beautiful
things and experienced thousands of wonders. But the most beautiful
thing I’ve ever seen was you. And with you I’ve had the best
moments of my life.”

Knowing he spoke of sixty-odd thousand
years, his words filled me with warmth. “You certainly are the best
thing in my life, too.”

His breathing stopped, his body tensed.
Almost as if he expected something important to happen.

“What?” I demanded.

He relaxed—on the surface. But his hollow
eyes and his tight grip on my hand told me he struggled to hide
deep disappointment. He buried his face in my hair. “Nothing, love.
It’s nothing.”

With my cheek nestled against his chest,
minutes ticked by like seconds. The rhythmical skimming of his
fingers on my neck lulled me to a state of half sleep. The warm
scent of wild wind was all I perceived while his chest rose and
fell steadily. Curled up, with my feet on the chair, it was a
comfortable enough position for me to fall asleep. And I would
have, if my mother hadn’t woken with a gurgling cough.

Before I knew what had happened, I sprang to
her side and grabbed her hand. “Mum, I’m here.” The worry I tried
to hide from her unfortunately echoed clearly in my voice.

The strong squeeze of her hand gave me some
confidence. “I need a sip of water. Can you get me a fresh
glass?”

Her lips were dry like sandpaper, and it
didn’t help that she licked them with a tongue just as parched. I
made it to the kitchen and back in less than ten seconds, although
I left a water trail after me. My hand placed behind my mother’s
head, I helped her drink in slow sips.

When she’d had enough, she opened her arms
for me. Happily, I dived into her embrace.

“Thank you so much, little baby.”

Fear gripped me in a headlock when I
realized she wasn’t speaking about me getting her a drink. My head
on her shoulder, she asked me to summon my aunt.

Fear changed to panic. I shot up. “Why? Are
you feeling worse?”

“No, dear.” She gave me a strong and
confident smile. “I forgot to tell her where my life insurance is,
and now would be a good moment to talk to her. I’m feeling just
fine.”

Did she really, or was this Julian’s angel
powers giving her strength? Her hand on my cheek felt warmer than
before. With the color returning to her cheeks, she looked a whole
lot better.

“I would send Julian, but I’m afraid I need
his help in here. So could you get Marie for me?”

To my questioning glance, Julian replied
with a nod and walked toward me. I stood, uncertain if I really
should leave my mother alone.

Strands of my hair ran through his fingers.
He pulled my head against his chest and planted a gentle kiss to my
brow. “It’s all good,” he promised.

So I slipped into my boots, strode out, and
hurried toward the vineyard. A few hundred feet ahead, I spotted
Marie and Albert, both bent over the small iron bar that stuck out
from the ground. They were too far to shout, so I scurried on, my
thoughts lingering in my mother’s room.

What would they talk about now that I was
outside? Mum didn’t seem scared at all today, although we both felt
it was going to be over soon. Maybe she was asking Julian about
life on the other side. Getting prepared.

I stopped dead, and with my feet my heart
stopped, too. The world spun around me in an endless carousel.
Eerie underwater noises bubbled in my ears.

Oh, how could I be so ignorant? My mum
wanted me out of the room so I wouldn’t have to watch what was
going to happen. She could have sent Julian, but she needed him
with her. To escort her to the other side.

God, no
!

My eyes wide and mouth open, I must have
looked like I was run over by a bus when Marie turned toward me.
And that was exactly how I felt.

“Jona? Is your mother feeling worse?” Marie
blurted then winced.

But I had no time to reply. I whirled
around, needing to get back inside. Invisible cords slowed my
movements. The first few steps seemed to take me an endless time
while my breaths erupted on painful spasms.

“Julian, don’t!” I croaked, although I
wasn’t sure if I even said it out loud. But in my mind I continued
yelling his name over and over. He must hear me. Please, he had to.
God couldn’t take my mother today. Not now, when I wasn’t with her.
When I hadn’t said goodbye.

“Jona! What is it?” Shouts behind me
couldn’t make me wait for my aunt.

The house suddenly appeared like a mile
away. It would take me hours to get there.

And then I broke into a run. My loose boots
pounded on the path, kicking pebbles to all sides. Marie’s cry grew
fainter.

My heart pounded a frantic beat in my ears
when I finally reached the house. It was a long way through the
hallway to my mother’s room. The door stood ajar, and I slammed
against it.

“Don’t! Please, don’t!” I choked. My mind
swarmed with panic. I gasped for air, stumbling farther into the
room.

Caught by strong hands, I glanced up at
Julian. I sucked in a breath at his sight. His eyes were the only
thing I recognized about him at this time. His casual clothes gone,
he was completely dressed in white light, a long cloak swaying
around his legs. The pair of wings sprouting from his shoulder
blades hovered two feet above the ground, spreading so wide they
almost brushed opposite walls.

The angel took me into his arms and leaned
his forehead against mine. His wings enclosed our embrace into a
ball of white light.

My nose dripped. The first rush of tears
burned like hellfire. Salty streams ran over my lips. “Please
wait!” My voice hoarse and shaky, I clutched the front of his cloak
as I begged. To stop him from taking my mother was all I could
think of. “Let her stay with me. Let her live. I don’t want to lose
both of you. Give me a few more hours. A few more days. Don’t leave
me, Julian!”

A trail of vapor traced the movement of his
hands as he reached up to brush back my hair. “It’s impossible.”
His tone was soft, yet it left no room for negotiations. “Look at
her. She’s ready. It’s time.”

His wings lowered to grant me a glance at my
mother, her eyes wide and happy. She gazed in our direction, but
she only focused on Julian. The angel in white light.

A part of my heart splintered and remained
with Julian when I broke free from his hold and inched toward my
mother.

I was right beside her as she finally tilted
her head toward me and smiled. “Jona, you came back?” She sounded
far away and surprised.

“Yes, Mum. I came to stop you.”

The warmth of her hand seeped into my palm.
“To stop me? From what?”

“From leaving.” I sobbed, wiping my nose
with the back of my free hand.

“Why would you do that?” Her innocent,
confused gaze matched her childlike tone and had me wondering if
she
was the mental one or
I
.

“Can’t you see the beautiful place over
there?” she crooned. “They are calling me. It’s an invitation. I
would be a fool not to go.”

“She’s already glimpsing Heaven.” A shiver
skittered along my arms at Julian’s announcement behind me. “It’s
time to let go.”

But I wasn’t ready. Unable to make myself
speak, I cradled my mother’s defenseless body against my chest.
Lungs tight, I shook with fear.

Her gaze cleared, warmed even. “Let me go,
dear child.”

“No. No! Never!” Over the crook of my arm
wrapped around my mother’s shoulders, I glowered at Julian who was
coming closer. “You won’t take her anywhere!”

One silver tear glistened in his eye,
shining with the light of a star. He blinked, and it was gone. “I
wish I didn’t have to, but it’s not up to me.”

Half of the room glowed with his presence as
he sank to my side. He pressed his palm to my brow. His touch
dragged a storm of memories out of my mind. Each of them flashed
before me then vaporized into a void.

I fought against the pull, jerked my head
from side to side. I screamed at him. “Please, Julian! Don’t do
this. Leave me this one precious thing!”

But just like my heart, my mind was left
empty. And in the next instant, the spell was over. I slouched
alone in the room, holding my dead mother.

29

DELUSIONS

THE BIRDS CHIRPED an unearthly happy song in
the crown of the maple tree next to the patio. Between the new
green leaves, the sun struggled to glint through. It played a
befuddling game of light and shadow on my closed eyes. A fresh
peachy smell emanated from the cushion of the deck-chair. That the
patio furniture was out of winter storage and Marie laundered the
cushions gave further proof of the spring winning over the cold
winter months.

With the skirt of the dress tugged over my
bent legs, I hugged my knees, pressing my cheek on them.
Yellow
. Marie had smiled and said the color would be good
for my depression when she had seen me coming downstairs that
Sunday morning.

But I didn’t see how it changed anything. I
could as well have worn my usual black cloths that went so well
with my mental state.

After my mother’s death, the world had not
been the same vivid place for me. Like a vortex, sadness had drawn
me under with no intention of setting me free. Her funeral seemed
to have closed a certain chapter in my life. A very painful one,
with many twists and an unexpected turn at the end. But I couldn’t
find the will and strength to start a new one.

Quinn had come to attend the sad ceremony.
He’d finished reading a passage from the bible for me when I had
choked on the words in the church. He was a really good friend. I
was glad for his understanding during those first hardest
weeks.

After a long conversation with Aunt Marie
and Uncle Albert, he’d offered to take me with him back to England
when all the formality around the burial was settled. Albert even
promised that he and Marie would pay the rent of a flat and a
possible tuition should I choose to study at the London
University.

But I’d declined their generous offer.

Under tears, I’d begged them instead to let
me stay in their house. How else would I’ve been able to bring my
mother fresh lilies and roses to her grave every few days?

There was no discussion necessary, no
further pleading. Marie had folded me into her loving arms and
welcomed me as the member of their family I had been in their
hearts from the very day of my arrival.

So I stayed.

From the window in my room, I’d watched the
summer cease to a colorful fall, and snow cover the vineyards with
a thick white blanket. Permanently red from crying too much, my
nose burned at the slightest touch. And when my eyes finally dried
and not a single tear would come anymore, my mind had seemed to
shut down, too.

Once, Marie had tried to talk me into seeing
a psychotherapist.
You are walking around the house like a
zombie.
But I wouldn’t go see the shrink. Not for the grief
inside me. And neither when the delusions set in.

It had started with dreams only. Dreams of a
face I couldn’t get a clear view of. Night after night, I saw the
same shining blue eyes, and each morning when I woke, I yearned to
find them, searching the crowded market like a lost child each time
we went to town.

Over the weeks, the fine features of a
boyish face formed around the eyes and became clearer. But I
couldn’t recall the face in my memories. So why would I keep
dreaming of a man I didn’t know?

Unfortunately, my artistic skills were
non-existent, or else I would have captured that face in a drawing.
In fact, I had tried, but what came out was more like a cartoon
Garfield than the fine lines of a gorgeous man. Not someone that
Marie or Albert could help me identify when I had shown them the
scrawl.

Thinking of their perplexed gazes as they
doubtlessly questioned my sanity, I winced and shifted in the
deck-chair. Marie came over with a glass of lemonade and placed the
drink on the table.

“Here,
chérie
,” she said to me in
French. “If you don’t want to eat breakfast again, then you should
at least drink some juice.”

During the last half of a year I’d made good
speed in learning the language. And how would I not, when my aunt
and uncle refused to talk to me in English. They’d decided the best
way for me to learn was to hear French frequently, and more often
than just once a week in that course they had signed me up for.