Mirrors Everywhere

The first month was the hardest. She sobbed for hours at a time, felt pangs in her heart when she looked at the curb of a sidewalk, and everyone had the same uncomfortable expression when they looked at her. The counter was quiet and empty. She would reach for the phone to text him before remembering. She’d search the doorway for his rugged face when the lock clicked and the breath would catch in her throat when someone else entered. She went to bed empty and would rise aching.

The first month was the hardest. He wandered the other side in search of home, cried out for her in the too-bright, too-warm day, and watched the shadows of the living trudging through the veil. The world was strange and he couldn’t find their town. He heard a distant ringing that would stop suddenly. He’d watch couples holding hands down the street and would ache for her and for life. He didn’t sleep.

---

The second month, she could hold back the onslaught of tears at the smaller things. She left the house for brief periods out in the brisk fall air. The counter remained empty, but she got used to the quiet. She sent the texts she wanted to, the things she wanted to say, and occasionally that made her smile. She’d stopped looking up at the door to avoid the pain. She went to bed empty and would rise in a trance.

The second month, he found the right town but hung back, wandering along the highway, unsure if he could bear going home. He let the late-spring birds and warm sun warm him from the outside in. The world was chaotic and he finally brought himself to walk the streets. He heard voices, well, a voice quietly speaking to him but couldn’t see anyone. He watched over their friends and neighbours, looking away when he passed by the house. He didn’t sleep.

---

The third month, she spoke of him. She put up the twinkle lights on the house, earlier than anyone on the street, and told him, aloud, that it would be the most fantastic Christmas he’d ever seen. The counter filled with cookies and cakes decorated to the nines. She left him carol-filled messages. She’d hung a string of bells on the door so she could look up when someone came in. She went to bed empty and would rise rested.

The third month, he heard her clear as a bell and went to their house. He watched, through the veil, as the lights twinkled in the spring sun. The world on her side was full of snow that didn’t touch his. He heard her singing wherever he went and felt her happiness. He watched as she made up the house like a festive beacon. He watched her sleep.

---

The fourth month, she lit candles and made her Christmas wish early. She just wanted to be able to talk to him, to see him. When she went to bed, she whispered to him that everything would be okay. He heard her and told her he loved her. She could have sworn she heard him speak.

---

Yawning, she touched the pillow she hadn’t washed in four months, his pillow. She sat up and shivered; she hadn’t set the thermostat yet and it was perpetually cold in the house until someone else came in to turn it on. Normally, someone was around when she woke up, but the house was empty. Her friends had a running schedule to make sure someone was always there for her, but today, Christmas morning, everyone was spending time with their families.

When she looked into the massive mirror hanging above the dresser, an ill-advised wedding gift from her mother-in-law, she could have sworn she saw someone else’s eyes over hers. She reached up and was surprised not to feel the prickles of a beard. It seemed as though he was sitting with her. The fingers of her hand looked rough and large in the reflection. Blinking, she got out of bed, losing herself in the thick frame, and gingerly stepped towards the wall. When she peered back around the edge, her haggard face was blocking the bed.

Sucking in a breath, she stepped aside and, sitting with his lower torso and legs hidden by the bedsheets, was her husband.

“Luke?” she gasped, feeling the familiar name rubbery as it rolled off her tongue.

He grinned sheepishly and breathed, “Clara,” with all the reverence of a spell. Rolling to the other side of the bed, his side, he stood and stepped carefully to her side.

Without touching, they stood there for a long time.

She could practically smell his aftershave. When she reached her fingers out to brush through his, she shivered. “It’s, it’s not you,” she assured him when jumped away. Smiling, she went silently to the thermostat and turned it up, waited for the heat to kick on, and returned to the mirror. After a few seconds, she explained, “I keep forgetting it. You used to set it.”

Nodding, he replied, “I uh, I think I set it low before, uh, before things.” He was quiet for a bit, trying very hard to both think about the accident and not. It was a strange feeling; wanting to remember and forget at the same time. “You need to take better care of yourself, Clara,” he commented, holding his hand up as though she brush a strand of hair from her forehead.

Shutting her eyes and wishing to feel his skin against hers, she replied, “I will, I will Luke. I just, I needed to know you were, were somewhere. Were okay. I’m lost without you.” She couldn’t bear to see his face when she said it; it hurt her and she knew it would hurt him, but it needed to be said. Aloud.

“My dearest Clara, you are the sun that warms my skin, the rain that swallows my tears, no matter what I’m doing or what world I’m in, I will be there, with you, for the rest of my years,” Luke whispered.

Clara could practically feel his breath on her skin as he whispered it in her ear. When she opened her eyes again, he was sitting at the edge of the bed, staring down into his hands and she murmured, “I just, I’m so happy to see you. And, one day, we will be together again.”

---

For days, Clara sent everyone away when they came by bearing gifts and food and friends from far away. She didn’t want to share Luke with anyone, even those she loved. When her mother-in-law stopped by, she embraced the woman but didn’t say a word about Luke. She convinced herself it was because she just needed the days, weeks, months back that he was gone; that was a lie. Really, she thought she was losing her mind and she couldn’t bear the thought of the hallucination breaking. It would break her.

When she slept, she found herself in their backyard in the summer. Luke was always there. He kissed her and touched her in ways she would always remember. They would lie in the warm sun and just hold hands for hours. Everything around them would stop, time would stop, and they would just be there, together.

When she would wake up, he was sitting next to her, invisible other than in mirrors. They talked for hours and she started to get better again. She was cooking for herself, washing the sheets, singing to the radio.

People would come over and Luke would hide; he knew why and he was perfectly okay with it. He didn’t want to know if he wasn’t real, either. But didn’t that thought, recognition, prove that he was?

---

After a few days of drunken happiness, Clara and Luke got down to talking about the accident. Neither of them really wanted the conversation, but they both needed it. Luke was worried it may be the key to his moving on, while Clara just wanted that closure for herself. The big question hung in the air like a black cloud of ash, threatening to suffocate both the living and dead alike.

“I never expected to live that long, anyway,” Luke finally spoke, pacing in front of the mirror.

On Clara’s side, from her spot on the bed, this pacing was a strange trick of the mind; he was in front of her, but also not there at all. She was focusing on that thought until she could no longer put it off. Nodding, she replied, “But was that the final straw?” She didn’t want to know.

When they started dating, Luke told her about the depression; a million girls would have left him on the spot, but not Clara. With a sigh, he shook his head and replied, “No, I uh, I just wasn’t paying attention to the road.” There was a dullness to his eyes that was a sign of shame. Could have been because it wasn’t an accident, or because it was.

“Okay,” she murmured, unsure what she believed. It required further conversation to dig to the truth, but she was so tired and she didn’t want to know. 

After ten minutes, Luke cleared his throat uncomfortably, and commented, “It’s a hot day over here. I’m gonna grab an iced tea. Do you want anything?” It was a running joke between them; offering things that simply weren’t possible.

Clara nodded and replied, “One hot cocoa, please. It’s frigid here.” Standing up, she followed his absence from the mirror and found him standing by the fridge in a full-length mirror she’d installed. Half her walls were now peppered with reflective surfaces of all kinds; every glimpse of her beloved anchored her.

When Luke pretended to turn the kettle on, tapping his own switch into the on position, they were both surprised as a click echoed between the two worlds.

Clara turned to see the light on on hers.

For a full minute, neither figure moved; they may as well have been wax statues on either side of a frame.

Finally, as though to test the reality of the click, the click that echoed across the veil, Clara flicked the switch off with a rewarding tick sound.

Clara’s real-world kettle, which had begun to gurgle as the element inside heated up, hissed lightly as it turned off, while Luke’s began to shake with heat. Again, they remained stationary for an entire minute. Neither of them wanted to do anything, to risk the cosmic alignment being knocked out of balance.

Abandoning the beverage, Clara rushed into the living room, Luke following her like a shadow through the mirrors.

They both stopped in front of the fireplace, now adorned with a spectacularly large gilded mirror. An equally extravagant book sat open under it with only the very middle pages visible in the reflection.

Taking a deep breath, keeping her eyes on Luke, she turned the page in their wedding guest book. She took a step back so her husband would know she wasn’t touching the pages.

When he carefully turned the page in both worlds, he gasped and chuckled lightly.

Neither knew what the rules were, why some things were the same in both worlds, why he could affect some things, but they didn’t care. The why wasn’t important.

Community Service

For a creative type, Liz could be organized better than anyone. In the painting room, her corner was carved out with a line of perfectly-scrubbed tile, colour-coordinated materials, and perfectly-trimmed brushes. Even the blank canvas and line of pencils on her easel were neat and every tip sharpened to the correct point. Next to her, the other artists seemed like complete slobs with globs of paint splattered on the floor and messes of brushes wallowing in murky bottles of painted water. Even Evan, the architect-turned-starving-artist, had pencil shavings around his easel and mismatched paint swatches littering his entire table.

I came in to make sure Tristan and Tyrion hadn’t left their phones in their aprons again and spotted Liz’s sketchbook open on her next piece. Normally, I managed to ignore my wife’s drawing books, but tonight as I walked by, I just caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. Then, I took a long, lingering look. Staring up at me with warm gray eyes was me, kinda. It was three of me, sorta. There was a central figure that had my eyes and short, curly hairstyle and that mole I hated on my chin. That one was wearing a nice plaid shirt with a t-shirt under it, like I did. To the left, sharing my left eye and adding a dash of deep blue to another eye, was a masculine figure. He had a short beard and hair that curved elegantly to the left, but was very short compared to what I had now. The mole was less prominent amidst the hair. He was wearing a suit and rainbow bow tie. Well, she’d written a note in about it being rainbow. On the right, sharing the other eye, was a woman. Her second eye was bright pink and her hair was long, pinned up, and curled under a rainbow headband. Again, the mole. She had a low-cut top, outrageous earrings, and a rainbow necklace. It was me, Danny, all of me. I wanted to hug Liz, but I wasn’t supposed to see this yet.

Groaning, I pried myself from the sketch and checked the twins’ pockets. When they were empty, other than a few shards of charcoal, I left without another look at the book. I needed to forget the drawing. As I turned the light off, a shivering outline remained behind one of the easels. I shut the door behind me and wandered down the hall, checking rooms to make sure all the lights were out. As I passed the writer’s room, I spotted the figure again; it was like electricity come to life and shifted soundlessly in the air.

When I finally reached the staircase at the end, I opened the electrical panel with my key and switched the power off to the whole floor, other than the kilns. No one had booked a night class or session, save the curing of some pots and mugs, so the lights didn’t need to be on. It wasn’t as though people didn’t just show up, but I always made a point to welcome people back if they needed an escape at odd hours; creatives were like that.

With the final task done, I turned to the boxy, concrete staircase. Seated on the fourth step with its head resting on its hands, was the electricity creature from before. Taking a deep breath, I walked right at the figure, who stood up, shivering and casting eerie lights around the stairs. I shut my eyes and walked through it, holding my breath. When I’d turned the corner, I opened my eyes and looked back. It was glaring with dark, void eyes. With a staticky shriek, it launched itself at me and I swung my keys through it. With a kind of fizzle, it disappeared and everything was calm and quiet.

Finally, I took the stairs up to the third, residential, floor, where Liz and I lived.

The whole building used to be a school that we’d converted into a kind of community haven for outcasts and creatives. The first floor was our very public area, the second was dedicated to mostly academic and creative pursuits, and the third and fourth were residences and living spaces.

On the bottom, we used what had been there when we took over. The large kitchen was in full-time use to serve meals and snacks at all times of the day, as well as hosted simple cooking classes, and facilitated prepared meal prep. At the far end, the enormous gym was utilized for subsidized sports, some larger meetings, and occasionally emergency shelter; we lived in interface wildfire country so we had been set up several times to provide temporary shelter to evacuees. There were many other meeting rooms for rent, a large bathroom and shower facility, and general living spaces that anyone could use. We had a few rooms kitted out with televisions and computers for entertainment, and even a fully-functioning drama room with a stage and seating for several hundred. Not many people used the drama room for productions, but we had hosted a couple of fundraisers. From dawn to dusk, it was constantly bustling and loud with volunteers, staff, residents, and community members utilizing everything for free or at very little cost. Plus, we had a large playground and several sports fields outside.

The second floor boasted the main entrance to the two-storey library, stocked mainly with donations from anywhere and everywhere. We had a pretty good selection and had nearly filled the entire thing. Other than having an issue with the automatic doors on the first floor, the library was fantastic; three engineers had come in stating we’d need to redo part of the structure if we wanted to fix the issue, so we just sent people up to the second floor if it was on the fritz. Every other room on that floor was dedicated to a different pursuit, with a few open to anything. Desks and computers and easels were set up where they were needed and sign-up sheets to reserve rooms were posted next to every door. On the inside of every room was a sign-in sheet so we could prove use to obtain our funding.

The residential floors had very strict rules against, well, a lot of things. For the most part, we rented to families with small children, but we were also open to marginalized groups and had a soft spot for LGBT youth. We were able to provide very cheap accommodations with childcare built-in for families, living spaces with decent entertainment, skills training, and food all under one roof. The biggest catch was that the bathrooms were shared, only a few to a floor, and they were, well, school bathrooms. We’d installed showers in every one and rooms were assigned to specific ones on the third and fourth floors; the other floors were fair game so often people would venture down to use the facilities at night. And, yes, the residential rooms had locks and separate keys.

I trudged up the steps and stood in front of our door for a few minutes before going inside. Because of the way the classrooms had been converted, most of them were one-room so there wasn’t any way to sneak in. Liz was sitting on the couch reading from an enormous book; her glasses were at the end of her nose and she was squinting.

Smiling at me when I shut the door, she asked, “Find the phones?”

I laughed forcefully and replied, “No, only charcoal.” Holding up the evidence, I wiped my hands on my pants before sighing. “They want me to go tell them, right? And I can’t, you know, call them,” I grumbled as I grabbed some water from our cooler.

“Pretty much,” she murmured, clearly having gone back to her book.

Glancing down at my watch, I leaned on the other couch and grumbled about it being too late. I took a sip of water and my head went fuzzy. It was pressure and sound swirling and the world started to turn.

---

When I woke up, I was lying behind the couch with a pillow under my head, the taste of metal on my tongue, and Liz was hurriedly speaking to someone on her phone. I tried to lift my head but couldn’t. Instead, I waved and she came over, tears on her cheeks. “Oh, yes, they just woke up. Danny? Danny, can you hear me?” she murmured, kneeling at my side.

Nodding, I whispered, “I’m fine. Tell them I’m fine.” My head was killing me and I could see spiders dripping from webs across the ceiling. Shutting my eyes, and groaned, “Just let me sleep.”

There was a short pause as someone spoke on the phone before Liz was gently shaking my shoulder, “Hey, Danny, they said not to let you sleep. Sorry. I just, they’re on their way. I have to get someone to open the door. Can I call you back? Okay. I’ll just use their phone. Hang on.” Again, a pause as I blinked up at the furry bodies and spindly legs. “Yeah, Danny passed out and I need you to come get my key to let the paramedics in. I can’t leave them,” she murmured into my phone. Must have been Denise down the way; she was very trustworthy and would be up this late already. Liz looked down as she put my phone back and whispered, “I’m just going to the door. Don’t pass out on me.”

I felt like forever waiting for the ambulance, and when they arrived, Liz was frantic. She talked about the first time I passed out, on a train heading out to check this place out, and every one, in order, since. If they hadn’t told her to just skip to tonight, we would have been there all night.

The paramedic, a very nice young man with a short beard and warm eyes, had me sit up after he’d assessed me a little. Once I was leaning against the couch back, I felt a little better. The nausea subsided a bit. Behind him, the door opened and a lovely, warm light burst through light the sun times a million. Seeing that I was looking over his shoulder, the man frowned a little and asked, “What are you looking at?”

Shifting my gaze back, I sighed, “The light coming in the door is lovely.” I felt a little stoned, but maybe it was just some kind of symptom hangover.

“Do you have a history of hallucinations?” he asked pointedly.

I stared for a moment before replying, “How did you know that?” Behind me, Liz was making some odd sounds; she’d forgotten to let them know about that and she was kicking herself.

Patting my arm, he stood up and went to Liz. “We’re going to take Danny to the hospital,” he announced to her quietly.

I shook my head and struggled to my feet, leaning on the couch. “No, no, we’re not going to the hospital. I already know it’s not good,” I stammered with my head spinning. When Liz helped steady me, I reiterated a chat we’d had a hundred times, “I don’t want to know what it is, babe. I just wanna keep going until, you know. You knew that.” This wasn’t the first time she’d called an ambulance, knowing I didn’t want it, because I’d passed out and couldn’t stop her.

---

When I woke up in the morning, sunlight was streaming on the fluffy couch in three-twenty. Groaning as I sat up, I rubbed my eyes and tried to stretch my back out. As comfortable as the couch was to sit on, it sucked as a bed. I crossed to the door and stared at a piece of cardstock that had been slipped under the door. It was a painting of our logo and the front of the school with our new sign on it. I remembered the night Liz did it.

We’d taken a walkthrough of the property and all she had to draw on was a stack of blank postcards. For an hour we’d each taken turns talking about how crazy it was to suggest we open up a community centre in the middle of three towns in this enormous compound. It had been crazy. Actually, it still was. She’d spent two minutes on the drawing and had brought her paints out as we discussed potential plans. When she was done and the paint was dry, I took the postcard and wrote out our mission statement on the back. To help. That was pretty much it. Be what people needed. And, really, we were. I turned it over to my scratchy handwriting and looked in the corner of it, where you were supposed to write the address it was going to. I’d drawn a little monster in pen. It was what I was seeing that night, in the school. I was always drawing little things like that to remind myself that the hallucinations were coming from my imagination.

The real reason Liz brought it to me was that I’d told her about the hallucinations and the headaches and everything that day. I talked about knowing there was something wrong, but that I just wanted to live my life. She’d taken a long walk and I had suspected she wouldn’t be back. Finally, she came back in and proposed both marriage and that we buy the school. That day, we decided to just live our lives.

I headed back to our room and found it empty. Not surprising. Downstairs, I could hear the community centre in full swing so I headed into the painting room. Also empty. Sighing, I went to the librarian’s office and stood in front of the red door. I took a deep breath and knocked.

For a minute, I was just standing in front of an empty room as a small gaggle of students whispered behind secondhand Shakespeare books at a table nearby. When it opened and Liz was standing in front of me, I pulled her into a tight hug.

Tears prickled my eyes as I whispered, “I’ll go to the doctor. We’re going to be at this school until we’re old and wrinkly.” She pulled back and smiled through her own tears. I took her hand and we went in to call the hospital.

---

It was a rainy day when Liz dropped me at the train station on the way to the hospital. She’d been gutted that she had a necessary funding-related inter-city council meeting on my first day of treatment, but I assured her there would be a lot more to come. As we stood in the downpour, I finally admitted, “Oh, I saw your sketchbook. I think you really captured me.” I just wanted to tell her that in case something happened. I knew nothing was going to happen, but the world was a crazy place.

“Guess I need a new birthday present, then,” she mused, squeezing my hand as I stepped up into the train. Smiling, she waved and shouted, “Love you!” over the PA crackling about last call out of town.

Unconventional Love

“Do I seriously have to wear this stupid thing?” I shouted at the thick velvet curtain. I was fiddling with corset laces that were clearly meant to be done up by someone else and couldn’t seem to keep my bosom in the front. In the mirror, I could see where the laces were bunching, but no matter what I pulled, it wasn’t making it any better. From the curtain came a sarcastic laugh and it was suddenly pushed to the side, light streaming in from a giant crystal chandelier. “Vani!” I shouted, hurriedly turning away from the open doorway, “I’m changing!”

Vanessa rolled her eyes and shut the curtains. “I thought you needed some help,” she murmured, glaring at the mess of cords behind my back, “and, besides, it’s nothing any of us haven’t seen before.” Chuckling, she started pulling things, knocking the breath out of my lungs and crushing my ribs. “Really, Kai, I can’t believe you’ve never wanted to try one of these on,” she muttered as she turned me around to tuck my breasts into the bodice before tying a very neat bow in the back.

Staring at myself in the mirror, I groaned, “You realize I’d be far more comfortable in-”

“-a riding suit like the other half of the wedding party is wearing?” Vanessa cut me off, knowing exactly what I was going to say. She was stern in that moment, but the hardness vanished when she saw my face. Sighing, she brushed her hand over my cheek and whispered, “I know my sister just doesn’t get it and you know I want you to be there but-”

“-if it makes me too uncomfortable you’d suffer through without me,” I cut her off with a sad smile. Bending to kiss her lightly, I straightened, pushed the corset around a bit and tried to sigh, which was a mistake as it felt instantly tighter. I twisted and gasped, “I’m not gonna abandon you, but I would really like to at least not wear something this tight.”

Squeezing my hand, Vani sighed, “Alright, I’ll go get the one I picked out for you.”

I turned and snapped, “Then what the hell is this, this boob cage, if not what you picked out?” Desperately, I attempted to unlace the corset and Vanessa rolled her eyes before helping me.

“Oh, uh, this was just the fanciest and most regal dress and I thought since you never wear dresses, you may need a little perspective,” she replied quietly.

“You mean the one you picked out will look so lax compared to this hell that I won’t fight it? That’s not gonna happen. You are in for a world of hurt, missy,” I muttered breathlessly, trying to keep the frown on my face and remain mad but already failing. When I was finally able to breathe again, I turned and immediately smiled as she was laughing. “Seriously, Vani, I am gonna just, I’m not gonna wear it,” I grumbled, dropping the corset to the floor and crossing my arms to oppose the smile.

Rolling her eyes, she slipped through the curtain and returned a few seconds later with a piece of clothing I couldn’t identify right off. She hung it on the hook, moving the remaining bits of ball gown cotton and silk to the back hanger. Gingerly plucking the corset off the floor, she laid it beside the fancy dress and began to pull apart the new outfit. “So, this one has a corset, but it’s leather, not as tight, and it goes on over everything else. The dress is a little heavier, and it isn’t as long, but it still has that, that-” Vanessa began to explain, holding her hands out and searching for a word that evaded her grasp.

“Aesthetic your sister was going for?” I offered as the various layers of this new costume were delicately laid across the bench to reveal the silken slip underneath.

I touched the slick fabric as Vani turned, triumphant, and replied, “Precisely. I’ll go grab my dress and be back to make sure you don’t need help.” With that, I was left alone with a terrifying piece of expensive, foreign attire that I would likely never again don. Well, after the wedding, that is.

Carefully stepping into a pair of bloomers, I pulled the slip on and did up the clasp in the back. I could have left it at that and been fairly pleased. The four other layers of material appeared quite daunting. I got the actual pants on fine, tying the band carefully and fixing the hems that would bunch up under a pair of high riding boots. I was most excited about the boots; they were something I may actually wear. As I pulled the heavy skirt over my head, to avoid ruffling the material as much as possible, groaning to myself about the layers of warm clothing and the fact that the wedding was slated for early summer. Pulling that layer reasonably tight over my hips, I pulled on the tunic and fixed the ruffles everywhere. The collar was very wide, sliding partway down my shoulders, and exposed the tattoos across my upper back and shoulders. A flock of ravens hid scars I didn’t want people to see. After getting everything settled, I turned my attention to the ornate leather corset sitting on the end of the bench.

I was just reaching for it when Vanessa returned and gasped as the curtain fell behind her. “Oh, you look amazing!” she gushed, touching the ruffles at my wrists and the birds flying over my shoulders. There was a twinkle in her eye as she stepped back to admire the skirts. Stepping back to the curtain, she pursed her lips and donned a sly smile. “Alright, so, this whole thing is amazing,” she stated, waving at me, “but I also picked out another piece that, depending on the weather, you may want to wear.”

“You mean I can just wear sweatpants and a t-shirt?” I joked, trying not to admire how hot I looked.

“Haha, no,” she replied. She rolled her eyes and added, “It’s something to put on top of everything, including the corset. I’ll see you out there.” With that, she left.

Finally picking up the leather, I undid the ties as much as I dared and pulled it on over my head. Turning it, I got it in the right spot and pulled the laces. This one was far less complicated and didn’t cut off my breathing; the perspective really did help. After quickly putting on the boots, I opened the curtain with dramatic flair and smiled at Vani’s reflection in the giant, three-piece mirror.

She was wearing a light cotton dress with a little filigree along the wide collar and wrists. It was pale pink, floor-length and plain. Standing on the raised platform with her hands resting gently on her stomach, she looked like a statue. “You look like a Greek goddess,” I murmured as I came up behind her, wrapped my arms around her, and put my hands over hers.

Smiling at us, she whispered, “And you look like a sexy pirate.”

“Haha, I just need a hat now,” I replied, resting my chin on her shoulder and swaying from side to side with the quiet music dropping from hidden speakers.

“Actually, this will fit perfectly,” Vani stated slyly as she pulled out a long gold-embroidered coat from a hidden hook and tucked it around my shoulders, “and I think I saw a hat out front.” I put my arms through the jacket and she did the clasp in front before smiling. Picking up my hands and holding them out between us, she checked out the edges of the outfit in the full light, pulling one of the ruffled sleeves out.

Leaning in, I kissed her lightly before murmuring, “I love you so much.”

Vanessa tried to keep smiling, but her eyebrows knitted together and she dropped my hands so she could hold her stomach again. “What if I’m showing?” she asked, turning to look at herself in the mirror again.

Sensing that she wanted to stand alone, I offered, “Well, I mean, we could tell her.”

We’d gone round and round in circles on this topic too many times to count. “It’s her wedding, I can’t do that to her,” she muttered, turning to see if the dress showed anything. When she looked back at me, she cried quietly, “Besides, this is the third time, Kai. I can’t, I just can’t. If I have to tell one more person about a failed pregnancy I just, I-”

“Hey, hey,” I murmured, putting my arms back around her and pulling her close, “I get it, Vani. I do.” We stayed like that as she quietly sobbed into my shirt. When she stopped crying, I pulled back a little to look into her eyes and whispered, “Look, if you’re showing, we’ll deal with it and, and I’ll tell her. Day of the wedding, during the toast, I will call her on her honeymoon if I have to.”

Smiling, she reached up to brush my cheek. “I love you,” she murmured, tears still rolling from her eyes.

“I love you, too,” I replied and kissed her again. This time, I pulled away and whispered, “You have to go away or I’m gonna start crying and I don’t know if I have enough lung space to sob.” Chuckling, she wiped her eyes and disappeared behind another curtain.

I stood adjusting the sleeve on my shirt to make sure it was visible until I spotted a flash of embroidered ivory silk and looked up the hallway. Standing like a large white bell was Vanessa’s twin sister, Natalie. She was looking in one of the too-many mirrors in the dress emporium.

I ran up the steps and beamed at her; she looked so happy. Glancing at the curtain Vani had disappeared behind, I cleared my throat and asked, “Hey, Nat, can I talk to you?” When she looked over, I looked behind me again.

Nodding, she replied, “Yeah, sure. What are you doing?”

“Oh, uh, Vani isn’t right behind me, right?” I asked, feeling hot under the bright lights and too many layers of heavily embroidered fabric.

“No, I don’t see her,” she murmured, glaring down the hall.

I looked at the nearest door, leading to the “Midnight Garden” and opened it. “This way, ma’am,” I announced, bowing her through the wide doorway. Inside, it was a vaulted ceiling with fake dark blue and green plants crawling the walls, faux marble pillars, and a large cabinet overflowing with props. This room was used for wedding and celebration photos; there were dozens of themed rooms like this in the store.

“I know you’re not my biggest fan,” I began as soon as the door was closed. I needed to talk to Nat before Vanessa realized I was missing and I was so nervous and pacing.

“No, it’s, it’s not that. It’s just,” she started, sitting down on a small stool and letting the hoops of her dress flop to the side. She looked like a melting ice cream cone. Exasperated, she sighed, “Vani has never been this serious with someone before and I guess, I guess I’m just worried about, about-” She cut herself off and motioned mutely with her lace gloved hands.

“-heartbreak,” I murmured, nodding, “I get it.” She smiled as I briefly stopped moving around. We were on the same page. “Especially with the miscarriage and everything,” I added, still unable to talk about it without the back of my eyes prickling. I started pacing again, taking a wide circle around a wishing well full of glittering underlit glass.

Nat sniffed and murmured, “She uh, she told me about the other one, too.”

Again, I stopped and stared at her. Sighing, I chuckled, “I uh, I didn’t know that. I uh, she was really broken up about it for a really long time. It was, the second one, was really, really tough to get through and I guess with all the baby stuff we just kinda forgot about, well, about this stuff.” I was motioning mutely to her dress and the plants and the arbour. “You know?” I asked, finally carefully sitting down on a wooden bench.

Chuckling, Natalie asked, “You wanna get married? I actually did not see that coming.” Not that we knew each other that well, but I’d gotten to know Vani’s sister at an almost-friend level in the last few years. “You just don’t seem the type, you know, the, the,” she struggled, looking just like her sister searching for a word.

“The settling down type?” I suggested. I’d heard that a million times before.

Shaking her head, she replied, “No, no. You can settle down without the piece of paper. Your conviction is all you need. You don’t need the big, public commitment thing because you, you love her unconditionally and completely.” She was smiling as I tried to sniff impending tears away. “And I know Vani, she doesn’t care as long as she’s with you. She’s madly in love, Kai,” Nat concluded in her puffy, elaborate wedding dress.

It took me a couple of minutes to gather myself again. I knew all these things but I didn’t realize Natalie did. Still sniffing a bit, I murmured, “I just want her to have that fairytale wedding she’s always wanted. I want her to have everything she has ever wanted and ever will want. Everything.” Tears were still streaming down my cheek and I bit my lip. Sighing, I nodded and continued, “And I remember at Jason’s wedding, you two, and that was so cute and I don’t want to steal any of your thunder or anything so if you’re not okay I will obviously make other-”

Natalie held up a hand to cut me off. “If this is you simultaneously asking me for my sister’s hand and asking if you can propose at my wedding, then yes on both counts. As long as you let me help,” she replied to my beating-around-the-bush method. Standing and hiking up the bell skirt, the bride-to-be held a hand out to help me up. “Also, great outfit. Vani wouldn’t let me see it until you tried it on,” she commented, looking me over. “She didn’t want you to feel like you had to wear it just because I loved it. But it is exactly you, I think,” she added as we headed back into the main store area.

---

“Alright, my one and only request from you as the bride, your gift to me, is to show me the ring. Come on, Kai,” Natalie whined as we stood in the dressing room waiting for the first dance song to start. The last three weeks had been dotted with simple planning for my proposal and it had all culminated in this moment for Natalie; finally seeing the piece of jewelry her sister would be wearing for the rest of her life. Somehow, in all the wedding preparation time and massive headaches that this kind of undertaking had been, Nat had managed to keep her attention on me and the ring.

Sighing, I murmured, “Alright. I guess I’ll just send the hand-crafted bassinet back.” She stared at me and I rolled my eyes. “Fine. You wanna see it?” I muttered, pulling a small, square box out of the inside pocket of my jacket and passing it over to her. Resting in deep indigo velvet was an oval pendant engraved with waves and stars encompassing a two-tone stone.

“Is that labradorite?” Natalie gasped, touching the cold stone surface. When I nodded, she asked, “You made this?” Again, I nodded, feeling my cheeks getting hot. “You don’t like convention, do you? But it is stunning.” She shut the box and handed it back.

“You’re right,” I replied as I carefully put the pendant back in my pocket, “I don’t like to be conventional. Though, in this case, it’s all about practicality.” Thinking back to crafting a few rings that just weren’t going to work, I smiled at Natalie’s inquisitive expression. “With her arthritis, I knew a ring wasn’t going to be a symbol of our love; she wouldn’t be able to wear it. This is a mix of the two of us; she’s this airy, starstruck dreamer and I’m this, this grounded, roiling mess stuck in an emotional ocean,” I mused as the band did a couple of tests.

“Have you picked out rings or no rings at all?” Natalie asked, bouncing on her toes.

Nodding, I replied, “Well, I’ve made a couple. They have this same engraving on the sides and Vani’s is adjustable. I know it’s not the ‘circle of love’ thing, but I think it could work, you know, for us.” I chuckled and added, “Or maybe no rings at all. I’ll talk to her about it. See what she thinks. Well, after this.” Butterflies had been forming in my stomach for hours and now that the time was here, I was petrified.

Finally, the music started up and it was time. There wasn’t anything more to think about, any planning I could put into it; this was it. Taking Nat’s hand, I pushed the double doors open and stepped onto the top marble step of the garden. Across the way, a waterfall feature was catching the last bits of sunlight as it died beneath the waves of the ocean. The lovely sound played perfectly with Natalie’s favourite song and I smiled at her. She was waving with tears streaming down her face; so happy.

When we reached the sunken center of the dancefloor, her new husband stepped up and bowed, reaching for her hand. I gently handed her over and stepped out of the limelight as everyone clapped and a few of Natalie’s college friends whooped. Siddling to the closest table, I sat down beside Nat’s mother and she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. Just after the proposal, she’d lost her husband and they had to rethink a lot of the aspects of the wedding that had been geared towards him; it took months to decide who would step in to walk her down the aisle and longer to decide who would have the father’s dance. Jason had walked his sister down the aisle and I was taking the dance part. It certainly wasn’t because Jay couldn’t manage more than an off-beat sway.

Giving my future mother-in-law’s hand a gentle squeeze as the song neared the end, I stood up and swayed at the edge of the top step. It ended and I stepped forward, taking back Natalie’s hand for a short song as her husband went out to find Vani. The band leader announced the father-daughter dance and there was scattered applause and laughter; those who knew Jason would definitely understand why I was taking on this particular responsibility.

“Thank you so much for doing all this extra stuff,” I whispered to Nat as we swung around.

Smiling, she replied, “I see how happy you two make each other. Now all you’ll need is a kid.” I wanted to tell her so badly that we were expecting, especially because Vani was starting to show in the dress, but I knew we had to wait it out.

As the song neared the end, I spotted Vanessa looking uncomfortable and unsure beside Natalie’s husband and I bowed to Nat as he led my future wife down the steps and into the light. The couple departed and I cleared my throat. “Uh, this has been a beautiful union of two of my favourite people, but I thought there was one thing that could make it even more special. These last few years have been the best of my life, Vanessa, just being with you. And I wanted to make sure that I get to spend the rest of them with you, too,” I began in as loud a voice as I could muster with everyone staring at me. Vani was standing there with a shocked look on her face; exactly how Nat had looked. Bending my knee, wishing I wasn’t wearing four layers, I pulled the box out and continued, “I know we’re not exactly conventional, but I love us anyway. I love you, Vani. Will you marry me?”

The next few moments were like a slow-motion silent film. She took a breath, bit her lip, and mouthed the word you never wanted to hear after that question. Then, in a flash, she was gone, and I was left in this horrible, uncomfortable silence. Blinking, I remained there for ages, so long that Natalie had to help me up and out of the way, still in a silent bubble. I think she was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear her.

Finally, the world came back up to speed and Natalie was murmuring about Vanessa being in shock. I took a breath and pushed past her on the way to the main building. Bolting up the stairs and down the hall towards the room Vani and I had been in the last couple of days, I stood there for a moment with my hand raised to knock. What if she wasn’t there and I was knocking at an empty room? What if she’d found someone else? What if? I had to stop myself from spiralling and took another breath.

Trying the handle, the door opened; it was unlocked. I stepped inside the spacious room and shut the door behind me. At the side of the bed, Vanessa was piling her clothes back into her bright yellow suitcase, tears drying in layers on her cheeks.

When she spotted me, she picked up the pace and I crossed the room. Grabbing her wrist so she’d stop, I asked, “Hey, wait a sec, what happened?” She stared up at me and sobbed. I wrapped my arm around her and whispered, “Is it because you’re showing?” That had been a huge problem for her before, but it didn’t seem like something to get this upset about.

Shaking her head, she knocked my arm off and gasped, “No. I uh, I remember this feeling, Kai.”

I blinked. “Feeling?” I asked, unsure what she was talking about.

Vanessa bit her lip, shoved the suitcase, and sat down on the bed. “I think I lost the baby,” she sighed heavily.

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. “Oh, I’m so, so sorry. Vani,” I murmured, taking a seat next to her and pulling her onto my shoulder. Stroking her back as she sobbed, I repeated, “I am so, so sorry.” This continued for several minutes before she sniffled and blew her nose. In the quiet, I asked, “What can I do?”

“I have to get out of here,” she replied between quiet sobs.

Nodding, I started, “Okay, I’ll just grab some-”

“No,” she stated, sitting up straight and looking at me, “I have to go without you.” Her crystal eyes shone as she continued, “I have to leave you. I can’t, I can’t give you what you want.” Standing, she zipped the suitcase and tried to avoid my gaze.

I stood up and grabbed her wrist, turning her to look at me. “What are you talking about, Vani?” I asked.

Sniffling, she sighed, “You wanted a baby and I just, I can’t. It’s just not happening.”

Holding her hands, I shook my head. “Oh, babe, I don’t care about any of that as long as I’m with you. I love you,” I replied sternly. When she still didn’t seem convinced, I continued, “I wanted you to have a baby for you. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted but I’d be just as happy with adoption or surrogacy. I don’t care if it’s ours, as long as it’s healthy and you’re happy.” I couldn’t believe she didn’t know all that.

“But you’ve always wanted a baby,” she murmured.

Chuckling, I replied, “I do. And we will. But, first, let’s get you taken care of.” I kissed her on the forehead and whispered, “I love you, Vani. Whether we have kids or not won’t ever change that.”

When I looked down, she was still looking worried. Biting her lip, she stated, “Actually, before any of that, you need to go out on that balcony and let everyone know the wedding is on.” Before I could argue, she held up a hand and added, “I’ll be fine for a few extra minutes, Kai.”

A minute later, I was standing on the darkened balcony with the band leader asking everyone to look up for a moment. I dropped down on my knee again and opened the box. When Vanessa actually looked at the pendant, she smiled and nodded. We hugged. Everyone clapped and cheered. Then we were off to the hospital. It was unconventional, just like us. It was perfect.

Jane’s Will

I prefer to start stories at the end. Waiting all that time to get that final piece to the puzzle is just so cliche. What if I get halfway through and hate the way the main character is constantly leaning on walls, or that the sidekick is utterly incapable of apologizing for anything even when he’s clearly been mistaken, or that everyone is too blinded by unrequited lust to realize the undercover agent is clearly the woman who claims to be hooking up with different people every single night? I’m not as nihilistic as to expect to die before I make it to the end of a book, but I suppose that could happen, too.

I guess that’s why I want to start mine there, at the end of it, and then jump back to the beginning.

Here’s the big reveal, the reason you bought the ticket, the main course, or dessert depending on whether you usually have room for that. She changed it and took everyone but me off it. You get that? Hold on to that thought for a bit.

---

It all began in a hole in the ground. No, just kidding. Levity in the face of sadness, you know? No, it began with a scalded cup of tea at the house of what could be my least favourite person; my partner’s ex, Lois.

For three weeks leading up to the meeting, Jane had been acting strange and leaving the house at odd hours. The phone rang in the middle of the night, at dinner, at work when I visited, all the time. Most of the time, if we were busy, she’d just glance at it, turn off her phone and brush it off as a telemarketer. But I knew her. We’d been together for two years and I knew her. Sometimes, though, it was even stranger. She’d pick the phone up and leave without a word; she wouldn’t even answer it until she was two shut doors away from me and she’d only be gone a minute or two. Those times, she returned with a glassy look in her eye and some bubbly excuse that included too much detail and not enough eye contact.

Finally, after all that time, her phone rang on the coffee table when she was in the bathroom. My heart pounded the whole time as I considered my options; we had an open relationship so it seemed unlikely that she was hiding a tryst from me and she was one of the kindest and sweetest people you’d ever meet so it couldn’t be something nefarious. Still, I needed to know what it was. Taking a deep breath, I picked it up and answered, “Hello?” as quietly as I could.

“Lee?” a woman on the other end asked, uncertainty mixed with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

“You’re the one calling at all hours? She’s hiding an affair with you?” I chuckled. It had crossed my mind, but it seemed silly. I just wanted her to be happy and if that was being happy in another relationship, that wasn’t something I would stand in the way of.

I could practically hear Lois’s eyes rolling, the pretentious bitch, as she sighed, “No, it’s not like that. It’s uh, you know, can you swing by tomorrow at nine in the morning? I’ll make tea.” All through the first three months of our relationship, tea was a sore subject. You couldn’t bring it up without hearing how horrible Lois made tea; something no one ought to be able to screw up so badly. Now, I needed to endure that if I was going to get answers, well, as long as she had them. If not, I was going to drink burnt tea for nothing.

“Fine,” I replied and hung up. I put the phone back and sat back on the couch just in time for Jane to return. “Popcorn?” I asked as she glanced nervously at the phone on the table.

---

When I arrived at Lois’s place, I was surprised at how nice the neighbourhood was. On the only two occasions I’d had to visit, I’d done so in the middle of the night to pick Jane up after one of their many breakups. Everything looks sharp and foreboding with the streetlights casting shadows across the street. Iron gates looked dangerous and the imposing block of houses was like a fortress. Really, the houses were pristine and brightly painted in well-considered colours, everyone had little fences lined with flowering plants, there weren’t cars randomly parked everywhere, and the passersby were from an upper-echelon I could never manage. Man, Jane was really considering a step down the social ladder if she came to live with me.

I knocked on the door and Lois immediately opened it. “Lee,” she greeted me, nodding and stepping to the side. As I sidled past her into the living room, which looked plucked from a magazine, she stepped out and glanced up and down the street. Shutting and locking the door, she stepped through to the dining room, with an elaborate metal and fabric leaf centrepiece, and waved her hand at the end of the table. “Be right back,” she muttered, going into the kitchen and around the corner.

I cleared my throat, slipped my jacket off, and hung it on the back of my chair. When I sat down, I could see a pile of photos stacked on a bottom cabinet; I recognized the top one as Jane and Lois at the lakehouse and felt a pang.

Setting a tea tray down in the middle of the table, Lois poured my cup and looked expectantly. Could you really fix bad tea with add-ins? “Milk and sugar, please,” I replied to the unasked question. She dumped a teaspoon of bleached sweetener into the cup, poured deep auburn liquid out of the pot, and added a splash of milk from a miniature pitcher. A bit sloshed out onto the tablecloth, but she didn’t seem to notice. Passing it to me, she dumped sugar into her own cup before adding tea and taking her seat.

“So, you’ve obviously noticed the phone calls,” she sighed as she leaned back in the chair to glare at me like a predatory animal.

I couldn’t help the snort that came out of my nose. Nodding, I chuckled, “Um, yeah. Noticed them. You’re the one who keeps calling?”

Reaching for her cup, Lois cradled it with one hand and sighed deeply. “You’d think, but for the most part it’s been her other ex,” she explained, staring into the teacup as though it held the answers. For all I knew, it did. Looking up at me, finally, she added, “Well, most of them have been calling, but it’s primarily been from Derek.”

I knew Jane spent a lot of time figuring herself out, as had I, but I couldn’t figure out why they were calling her now. “So, what, you guys just all keep calling for a friendly chat?” I suggested, feeling less comfortable with my standing with Jane by the second.

“Don’t like the tea?” Lois asked.

If it had been anyone else, someone I felt akin to or respected in the slightest, I probably would have just turned the conversation back to Jane and gotten away from talk of tea. Instead, I grinned and shook my head. Tapping the cup, I replied, “I honestly don’t trust you, like, at all. And I don’t accept food from people I feel that way about.” No one knew I was there. I knew the two of them had a tumultuous relationship at the best of times. I also knew Jane had been with me during her tenure with Lois, albeit at the very end. I didn’t want to take any chances.

“Seriously?” she sniggered, “You think I, what, poisoned the tea so I could get Jane back?” After a few seconds, she took a large swig of scalding tea and cleared her throat. I took a sip of sweetened, burnt tea and grimaced. Rolling her eyes, Lois finally answered my question, “I was calling to make sure that my name was still in her will. As were, I assume, all the other people who’ve been calling. Yes, ‘all of them’ does sound like a lot, & it is.” She noted the last bit when I furrowed my brow. I must have kept the look because she added, “You’re not the only woman to pique her interest enough to love, though you seem to be the only one out of the money loop.”

“Person, I’m not the only person,” I snapped under my breath. After a second, knowing she didn’t care, I asked, “I’ve never seen a will and I don’t know what money you’re talking about.”

“Like I said, the only,” she started before looking down and sighing, “person who doesn’t.” Maybe horrible people could change. “Look,” she continued, “Jane is heir to a bunch of money that’s been slowly trickling in, with conditions, until she hits thirty tomorrow. Then, she gets an absolutely obscene amount in one go and can just do whatever she wants with it.” Staring at a bowl of shiny stones on the table, I must have looked shell-shocked. “She must have realized telling people about it complicated her relationships, which I can understand. It did, ours. I know I’m not the only one she still has in her will because she’s, well, who she is. She’s the kindest person you can imagine and she doesn’t want to hurt anyone and I’m sure she’d consider taking someone out of the will a betrayal of some kind,” she continued, spiralling until her voice faded away. That was how I thought about former loves I never fully got over; it made you sad and happy and you couldn’t help but get trapped in those moments.

Finally, I snapped out of it and asked, “So, everyone’s calling to get money or something?”

Lois opened her mouth a few times without speaking. “Uh, well, I think mostly it’s just to make sure if something happened, they’d get something out of it, but,” she began before stopping herself.

There was a pit growing in my stomach as she spoke. “But you’re worried about her,” I suggested. The silence in the room was palpable and exceedingly more uncomfortable than I thought possible. “You think someone, maybe this Derek guy, is gonna do something to Jane?” I prodded, not wanting to think about the prospect at all.

Silence, again. Lois took a tentative sip of tea before looking me in the eye and asking, “Wouldn’t you?”

---

I got out of there so fast I’m surprised I didn’t make a me-shaped hole in the door. The drive home was a blur; I think I may have cut someone off and run a just-red light, but who’s to say, really? When I pulled into my parking spot and jogged into the faux marble foyer with the half-lit plastic chandelier, I couldn’t help but think about how much Jane was giving up, socially, to be with me. Our elevator was a shuddering, slow monstrous thing that growled and groaned as soon as the doors finally shut. Normally, I took the stairs, but I was on the fourteenth floor and I knew this would be at least marginally faster. Technically, I lived on the thirteenth, but the developer was superstitious so we didn’t have a thirteenth floor. Because that just made an entire floor of a building disappear or something.

Bolting down the dim hallway, I stopped cold at my door. It was slightly ajar. Jane never left it open. I never left it open. No one I knew would leave a door open. Not in my neighbourhood.

I gently pushed the door open and crept inside. There were no signs of anything nefarious having happened; everything was in its place, or rather, where I left it. After three sweeps of the entire apartment, all I’d found was a half-eaten cheese sandwich out of place.

Sitting down on the couch, I pulled my phone out and called Jane’s number. After a few seconds, something buzzed nearby and the tinkling ringtone of Jane’s phone started playing. I leapt up and searched around until I found her phone stuck under the couch. Groaning, I turned the phone off and sat heavily on the couch again; never would Jane have left her cell unless something happened. 

When the screen went blank, I tapped it to bring up the photo of the two of us on my balcony on our first date. She had this infectious grin on her lips and I was staring at her like she was the world. I’d never dated anyone quite like Jane.

On that night, I had reserved a spot at one of the swanky restaurants down the street, but when we got there, our table had been given to someone else. Apparently, I didn’t have the money to secure a spot, not really. I’d been so embarrassed and I wanted to impress Jane. She didn’t care where we went. We ended up at a seventies diner down the street with a little league baseball team celebrating in one half of the joint. The burgers were greasy, the shakes were real ice cream, and the coffee smelled so burnt I almost couldn’t drink it. It was the best date I’ve ever had. The diner was open all night and we were there until three chatting about anything and everything.

Finally, after Jane secretly paid the tab, we headed back to my place and sat on the balcony for two more hours until the sun started to just brush the sky with crimson. The selfie we took was my most precious possession.

I don’t know how long I stood there staring at the phone before I realized it had turned off. When I hit it again to see the photo, I must have swiped because the phone unlocked, which was strange because she had a password. It opened to a note.

lea. i’m so sorry. please don’t look for me. i’ll explain when i can. jane.

I read through that letter maybe a hundred times before I put the phone down. There was so much wrong with that message. Anyone reading it wouldn’t have realized it, but I wasn’t anyone. My given name was Lea and no one used that anymore, it was always Lee. Autocorrect be damned, Jane would never do that. It wasn’t something she would overlook. Then there was not using capitalization. Anyone with a phone knows how annoying it is to have a sentence begin with a capital letter; it would have taken time and effort.

“Oh!” I sighed, vaguely remembering a night ages ago when Jane had been talking about spies and codes and secret things. She’d talked about something to do with capital letters; maybe that they signified doing the opposite? At any rate, I wasn’t going to let her disappearance lie. “Sorry, Jane, but I love you too much to just let something happen to you,” I murmured as I slid the phone into my purse. Whether someone had taken her and forced her to write that or she’d left on her own, I was going to find her.

---

After almost a full day of searching through Jane’s apartment, then to her office, before arriving back at the apartment, I finally found her diary in the most obvious, simple place of all. I jest. She’d sewn it into the bottom of her mattress right in the middle so I nearly knocked the ceiling fan down to tip it up. Every single page was covered from top to bottom in her perfect, neat handwriting with the swirl on the q and i; it was like seeing her, those letters. And, on the very last page, written right down to the end of the last line, was a clue as to where she was going. The secrecy stuff was finally beginning to make sense. We had a kind of shorthand, code, that only the two of us would probably be able to decipher. West. That was all I needed, after all this time. The s had a tiny splotch where her calligraphy pen had faltered. She’d left it with the ink well open on the makeup desk. I thought it was a clue that she’d left in a hurry, but it was darker, sadder than that. She was saying goodbye with those rusted and ruined implements.

I wiped tears from my eyes and put the notebook back, carefully lying the mattress down and making it look like someone had slept there instead of turning the whole thing over. It was a noisy job but it helped me calm down a bit. Tracks covered, I left the room and headed for the door when a light switched on in the far corner of the room. My heart nearly stopped.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lois asked as she sat in one of Jane’s comfortable, high-fashion chairs.

I rubbed my eyes as my heart started to calm. Looking at her, I replied, “To find Jane.”

Standing, she stated, “I’m coming with you.”

“You’re really not,” I replied, pulling my keys out of my purse. When I looked up, Lois had a gun.

“I’m coming with you,” she repeated, taking a step forward, causing me to take one back.

Shaking my head, I replied, “See, I’m the only one who knows where she’s gone, and quite frankly, I don’t trust you.” Lois just glared. “And the uh, the gun isn’t really helping me trust you more,” I added, hoping she’d realize that shooting me wasn’t the best solution.

She took a step back and fell into the chair, weapon still pointed in my general direction. “You’ve got the info, I’ve got a gun, sounds like an uneasy alliance to me,” she suggested, looking slightly defeated. Maybe I looked like an easier target than I was.

“So, what? You want to be Jane’s saviour? You think she’ll come running back to you if you’re the one who finds her?” I spat, feeling emboldened.

Lois laughed mirthlessly and replied, “Ha, no. She’s not gonna take me back. And even if she did, I wouldn’t want a piece of the complicated relationship you got there. I get that it’s messy and shit. I just, I really just, I love her and want her to be happy, Lee.” It was sad, seeing a woman I’d spent a long time hating and who, by all accounts today, I should still hate, falling apart.

“Come on, you don’t want to make sure you get a piece of that money. Maybe she’ll give you a reward?” I continued, putting my bag down and leaning on the counter.

This time, when Lois laughed, I could almost see a smile. “You’ve been to my townhouse, Lee. Does it look like I need the money?” she asked.

I shook my head and, determined to remain opposite Lois, I retorted, “Maybe you do. Maybe you need it to pay off a mafia enforcer? How do I know?” All the memories of my early friendship with Jane came flooding back and I snapped, “All that time, her talking about how you were pissed at her. I picked her up from your house with tears on her cheeks and a horrified look in her eyes. I was there when you scared her. I was always the one picking up the pieces. You always sounded unhinged.”

For a moment, Lois let that accusation hang in the air like an unwanted gift. I wasn’t going to take it back and she knew it.

“Jane and I were friends long, long before you. For ages we were best friends and then she fell for me and, I mean, that’s what she does. She falls for people she loves and then they disappoint her. They get greedy or they want to be their own person,” she mused, eyes glassy in memories. She blinked and looked to me. “Me? I didn’t want to stop working even though she could have covered us for the rest of our lives,” she explained quietly, “That’s why she wouldn’t tell you why we broke up all those times. You never wondered?”

“I had, but it wasn’t my business,” I murmured.

“Yeah, and if she’d told you about that, then she would have had to tell you about the money,” she continued harshly. Lois had that edge to the truth that only comes from truly loving the person you’re talking about; it was painful and barbed, and deeply truthful. Chuckling, she stood up and dropped the gun into her bag on the floor. Nodding at me, she spoke simply, “Now that we’ve both made clear our disdain, how about that uneasy alliance?”

---

The drive up to the lake house was extremely uncomfortable. The only words spoken were short directions about where to turn and grunts in response as Lois sped down the highway and onto a dirt road. Perhaps I should have suggested we take my beat-up car to avoid damaging her new-smell car, but I hadn’t; she didn’t know we were going off in the middle of nowhere.

Finally, we pulled in behind a large cabin and parked. I say cabin. What I meant was a fully-loaded chalet on the edge of a pristine lake with more bedrooms than my family home and a dock that could hold five boats. When we visited before, Jane always told me it was a close friend of her mother’s who owned it and there were no family pictures anywhere; the whole thing looked like it had come out of a magazine right down to the decorative grasses in a vase by the door.

“Now what, Sherlock?” Lois snapped as we stepped onto the wrapping patio and it creaked lightly. I turned and she rolled her eyes, adding, “I don’t have a key.” As she pushed past and leaned on the railing, I sighed. Why did I even bring her, if she was going to be this insolent? Right, the reason was rattling around in the purse on her arm.

When she looked my way, I started patting my pockets and shrugging. She sneered at me as I walked to the door and typed in the six-digit code. The door swung open and the lights automatically came on, illuminating the stunning home. Lois sauntered past without so much as a thankful glance.

For a few seconds, I stood in the doorway, wondering what was off. “Hey, the alarm didn’t go off,” I stated as Lois started throwing pillows off the couch.

Glancing at me, she asked, “Does it usually? We weren’t here alone often and I honestly cannot remember that.”

I nodded and stood perfectly still, listening for any sound. After a few minutes of that, Lois became impatient and exclaimed, “Magic Potion Perfect for Everything!”

Though I knew exactly what she was talking about, I turned to stare at her. She was holding a deep blue bottle aloft, the shimmering liquid swirling and glistening in the stark light. Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Yeah, that was from a party we went to. I can’t even remember who was hosting it, but they were having a make-your-own alcohol thing. Neither of us drink, as you know, so we just left it here hoping one day Jane would have people over.” Thinking about it, about her, was painful; it was like my chest was compressing and I couldn’t breathe and the world was ending.

“We could drink it. Maybe we’d forget about Jane, since it cures everything,” Lois shouted, her voice developing an edge. I recognized the sound as the precursor for a panic attack. It wasn’t my job to keep Lois on the rails; she decided to tag along with me, knowing the risks, or at least more of them than I had.

I was about to suggest she wait outside and, yeah, maybe have a drink when a door down the hallway slammed and I jumped. Before I could do anything, a man stepped out into the light, a gun drawn. I’ll admit I was more concerned this time than the first.

“Stay where you are,” he shouted, his eyes flicking between the two of us. 

Taking a deep breath, I asked, “You’re Derek, right?” The man didn’t change his expression, but he started to focus on me. “Did you find Jane?” I tried, taking a small step away from Lois, so he couldn’t look at both of us at the same time.

“Hey, stop moving!” he shouted, pointing the gun at me.

I was hoping as loudly as I could that Lois could think on her feet as I continued to slowly inch away. “Sorry, just, she was about to have a panic attack and uh, and I don’t want to be near her,” I spoke slowly, watching as Lois reached into her bag. To fill the silence, I asked, “Come on, you can tell me if you found her. I love her, too. I mean, she’s a great girl. She uh, she-”

I didn’t have time to shut my eyes as the gun went off and Derek screamed. Lunging forward as he fell, I grabbed the gun as it slid across the floor and pointed it at the intruder. She hit him in the leg and he was writhing as blood gushed. The metallic taste was making my stomach hurt, but I kept my mind on my partner’s exes. Across the room, I could hear Lois’s breath rattling in her throat.

“Bitch!” Derek yelled at Lois, groaning.

Composing myself, I called, “Lois, if you can hear me, let me know and find a first aid kit.” In place of a response was the clatter of the gun on the counter and the opening of creaky cabinets. “Alright, Derek, you’re gonna tell us what you found here,” I demanded, wishing I’d never met any of them.

He laughed and spat, “I don’t have to tell you anything.”

He had a point. Nodding, I replied, “No, you don’t. But if you want help with your leg and maybe even a ride to a hospital, you will. Otherwise, I’ll leave, set the alarm, and watch for the cops to swarm.” I glanced around the house and added, “I expect the response time in this neighbourhood is pretty snappy.”

After a few seconds, he pulled himself up a bit, putting pressure on his leg. “I found a will in the safe but it’s worthless. It’s obviously out-of-date,” he groaned, nodding towards the hall. “Office upstairs, second on the right. She’s not here, either. I don’t know if she ever was,” he added when I dropped the gun.

“Was the alarm on when you arrived?” I asked, starting to piece together the events of the day.

Shaking his head, he replied, “No, it wasn’t. Huh, I didn’t realize. She might have been here, then.” Realization was dawning in his eyes, too.

Lois appeared at my side and pulled me off into the living room. Keeping my eye on Derek, I glanced at the woman melting down before me. “We should kill him,” she whispered, staring at me like she wanted my head to melt.

“What?” I snapped. I shook my head and whispered, “We don’t need to kill him. He’s not gonna risk telling anyone that you shot him.”

Now, she was trained on the man lying on the floor in agony. “I’m gonna go kill him,” she repeated quietly. I turned and grabbed the gun from her hand.

“No. Go upstairs and see if there’s anything else in the office safe. Don’t do anything else, Lois,” I growled. When she looked at me, her expression changed from manic to scared. I had all the power now. How the hell did that happen? “Go,” I repeated, heading into the kitchen to find the first aid kit. When Lois’s footsteps were too far away, I asked Derek, “What were you calling about all the time?” If Lois was this off the rails, maybe I had everyone else wrong.

He sighed and replied, “Jane promised to keep me in, to give me some money, if I didn’t tell anyone I cheated on her.” I was going to ask why people knowing about it would be so negative for her, but he clearly came from the same wealth class as I had, “It was a social embarrassment for her. I don’t know why that’s such a big thing for them, rich people.”

“I wouldn’t know, either,” I murmured as I pulled out the bag and crossed the room, juggling two guns on my arm. Dropping the bag beside Derek, I sighed, “I feel a little better not helping you with it. Sorry. I will call an ambulance if you want, when we leave.”

“Not the first time I’ve been shot, probably not the last, either,” he replied with a wink. I didn’t expect to be hanging around my partner’s ex this much, but I suppose no one ever does. “She seems to really love you, Lee. I mean, she loves everyone she’s with, but it sounded like she really loves you. Like maybe she’s real with you.” He was unwrapping bandages and starting to work on his wound like a soldier. Who was this guy? And what was Jane doing with him?

“Nothing. He must have taken everything,” Lois called as she came down the stairs. She rounded the corner with a gleam in her eye.

I stood between them and told her plainly, “You and I are going to go. We’re not killing him.” For a second, she looked about to protest but thought better of it. “I’ll meet you in the car,” I added, holding my ground until she stalked off into the kitchen, grabbed her bag, and headed for the door. “I’m sorry for all of this,” I sighed, turning to Derek as he continued to struggle.

“Honestly, I was just happy when you disarmed Lois. She’s a crazy bitch,” he muttered, tightening a tourniquet around his thigh.

Nodding, I left the house, shutting the door behind me and was just in time to watch a cloud of dirt kicking up as Lois sped away. “Shit,” I muttered, waving one of the guns after her. Behind me, something snapped in a bush and I turned as Jane stepped out onto the path.

For a few seconds, shock had me rooted to the spot. She looked fine, unharmed. Finally, I managed to move and dropped both the guns I was carrying in a bush; I was fairly certain my love for Jane would stamp out any irrational thoughts, but I couldn’t be one hundred percent on it.

“Hi, Lee,” she whispered. It wasn’t her usual voice, to be sure, but it was one I recognized. Shame.

I wanted to run to her and hold her tight, tell her everything was gonna be alright. I wanted nothing more than to wake up beside her and realize this whole ordeal had been a fever dream. I wanted my amazing partner back to being herself. But I couldn’t do any of that. “Derek is in your kitchen with a gunshot wound. He’s probably gonna be kinda pissed so we should go,” I stated, attempting to keep my tone reasonably level. When she didn’t move, I added, “Jane, whatever you’ve been doing, I don’t care right now. Lois thinks she’s on your trail and Derek was here to-”

“To tell me to do what I told him I would,” she cut me off, matching my monotone. Nodding, she held out her hand and led the way back to the lake house. When we reached the bottom step, she turned and assured me, “He knows it wouldn’t help to hurt me, Lee. He won’t do anything rash.”

I let her lead me to the door and we stepped inside. I hadn’t noticed the tinge of metal in the air before, but it caught in my throat as the door closed behind me. “But, he was right there,” I murmured. There was a pool of blood where Derek had been and no sign of him. Letting go of Jane’s hand, I stepped around the blood and glanced up the stairs, listening intently. Adrenaline was setting in; this time it was in the form of panic instead of calm.

Jane was glancing around at her house, at the blood, at the ransacked cupboards. Finally, she turned to me and asked, “Did he find the will?” She was completely calm.

“Uh, yeah, well, no. I mean, he found one but said it was out of date,” I replied with a tinge of terror I couldn’t stamp out of my voice.

“Good. I needed a decoy and I knew he’d know,” she murmured more to herself than me. Leaning on the wall near the door, she continued, “The only copy of my current will is at my lawyer’s office. I’ve been keeping it there for ages, the real one, and using the others in case people broke in. Mainly, my exes.” Did I really know this woman at all?

Chuckling, I snapped, “You lied to Derek, didn’t you? You took him out.” I was starting to wish I’d brought the gun.

She just smiled. It was the kind of smile that doesn’t touch your eyes; a crocodile smile that means nothing. “Honestly, I lied to everyone. I took them all out of the will, this last one,” she admitted, detaching from the wall and pacing towards me. When she was a couple of feet away, she asked, “Do you want to know what the will says now?”

Considering my options, I finally nodded and she held out her hands. When I stepped forward and took them, she smiled a little too wide.

“I took everyone else out of it, took the silly stipulation about no money being given out if my death was suspicious, and I put you in as the sole beneficiary,” she whispered, pulling me closer. Staring into my eyes with a coldness I’d never noticed before, she added, “I did this, all this secrecy and stuff, for you.”

I let that sink in a moment before I dropped her hands and asked, “Why would you do that, Jane? I don’t care about the money! I didn’t even know about the money!” Turning so I didn’t have to look at her face, I snapped, “I just wanted to be with you. None of that other stuff mattered as long as we were together. I would have been fine living paycheque to paycheque.” Anger was bubbling up and tears warmed my eyes.

When Jane put her hand on my shoulder, gently like she always did, I flinched and she dropped it. “All my life, Lee, everyone always just befriended me because of what I had,” she murmured. Did she want me to feel sorry for her for being rich? Sniffing, she continued, “All they wanted was money or influence or fame or whatever; they wanted to be noticed and were greedy.” When I turned, she was wiping tears from the edge of her eye. “I just, I can’t trust that you don’t want that, too. And so, so you have to be a part of it, of everything, so you won’t. So, I,” she cried, emotion finally returning to her eyes, “Please just don’t leave me.”

I shook my head and laughed to keep from screaming. “Jane, I love you. I fucking love you, whether you have money or not. Actually, at this point, not might be preferable,” I shouted to get some of the nervous and angry energy out. Shaking a little, I continued, “I don’t care if you want to give every person you’ve ever slept with or thought about or looked at some money. I really don’t. I just want you to be happy and, and I just. Maybe I-”

Groaning, I sighed and held my head, pressing on my eyes until I saw stars. When I looked back at Jane, I finished my thought, “Maybe I just can’t do this with all this pressure. I don’t want to be constantly worried I’m gonna embarrass you or that you’re gonna flip out because one of us messed something up or, or that something’s gonna happen to you.” She reached out and I took another step back. “No, I think, I think I just need some time to, to think,” I muttered, turning swiftly and walking out of the lake house.

---

Time to think turned out to be a couple dozen hours. When I turned my tv on to the news the following night, I was greeted with a very familiar face. The outlet was reporting there was a robbery gone wrong at Jane’s lake house; a man had broken in to steal a will and found Jane there, armed. She’d wounded him, but he hadn’t missed. They had footage of Derek being wheeled into jail and the reporter ended by telling viewers that the sole beneficiary of Jane’s very substantial fortune was being withheld until they had been notified.

If I’d stayed, she might still be alive. We may both be dead. If I’d told her to come with me, she might still be alive. We may both be dead. If I’d never met Jane, she might still be alive.

When my phone rang, I let it almost ring out before answering it.

Uncomfortable Ending

It wasn’t like I’d always imagined it; a big production with tears and violin music. We weren’t someplace that meant a lot to us. In fact, we weren’t even in the same room.

I saw sitting on my couch reading a book I’d practically worn the pages out of when my phone buzzed. Groaning, I put the worn book aside and opened my texts. Can I video chat? was the only new message. I scowled, took a cursory glance at my shirt and decided it was sufficient, then texted in the affirmative. As I waited, I checked my hair in the screen’s reflection and pinned a strand back behind my ear.

The phone buzzed again, this time showing a picture of my boyfriend; he was bare-chested and holding a fish he claimed he caught, but we both knew was his brother’s. Rolling my eyes and smirking, I hit answer and he popped onto my screen in front of the grimy tile of his bathroom shower. I squinted to be sure of the image before murmuring, “Hey, hon.”

He shifted uncomfortably in front of the camera and took a few deep breaths before smiling and whispering, “Hey, babe. How are you doing?” In the decade we’d known each other, I’d learned to understand a lot of his actions and he’d been acting weird the last two weeks; this seemed to be the climax of that. A part of me had been excited for this, this sense of an ending, but another was secretly dreading it.

“Fine, thanks. Reading. You?” I replied calmly.

“Mhmm, I’m uh, I’m good, thanks. Really good, I mean, fine. You know, just good,” he stammered quietly.

After a few seconds of silently staring at each other, I cleared my throat and asked, “Was there something you wanted to talk about?” I didn’t really want to prod, but he was looking like a deer in headlights.

Nodding, he mirrored me by clearing his throat and sighed, “I uh, I have something I want to say. And it’s kinda big and uh, and I’m nervous. It would have been better, better in person. But uh, but for reasons I can’t fully explain-”

“It’s okay. Whatever you want to say, you don’t need to justify it,” I cut in, smiling gently. When he didn’t reply, I added, “Why are you whispering, though? And hiding in your bathroom?” I was fairly certain I knew why, why it had to be said now, and who was at his apartment to make him hide in the bathroom. I was okay with what was about to happen, kinda.

“So, um, I love you so much that sometimes it hurts,” he began, nodding with his own words and attempting to look me in the eye, “and I’m really sorry we’re doing this over the internet because that’s just not how I wanted this to, yeah, okay, anyway. I love you and I uh, I, will you marry me?” With that, he propped the phone on the counter so I could see his stained bath towels and pulled out a tiny ring in a box.

My breath caught in my throat and I stammered, “Uh, well, what? Of, I mean, of course.” I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say. As the contagious smile on my lips transferred to him, he laughed and the phone fell over.

“Oh, shit. Hang on. I love you,” he whispered to the phone as he lifted it back up.

Wiping a few surprising tears from my eye, I laughed, “So, why does it have to be now and why are you hiding in the bathroom, fiance?”

He turned scarlet and cleared his throat, suddenly serious. “Uh, your dad is here. I may have asked him for his blessing, like, eleven months and twenty-nine days ago, and I may have already said I proposed a week ago,” he explained. When I laughed, he continued, “And you’re in quarantine, so I couldn’t just come over to do it. And he showed up to discuss arrangements and said I should call you so we could all chat.”

“Huh,” I murmured, still trying to get over the turnaround, “so that explains why you’ve been so weird. You know my dad’s a big teddy bear, right? He’d understand, especially with the circumstances.”

Rubbing his eye, he muttered, “Yeah, I mean, I just didn’t want to disappoint you. I love you. I’ll call you back in a few. Your dad’s gonna be wondering what I’ve been doing in here. Love you.” He hung up and I was left with a ringing in my ears and a sense of whiplash. The excitement hadn’t even hit yet.

Casey

            Casey was sitting with her long legs crossed at the table, typing at her laptop; she was smiling as she checked her email. Beside her, leaning against her bare shoulder, Travis was chatting about a deal he’d pushed through despite all odds being against him. He was animated and loud but didn’t manage to distract her from her work. After the tale was through, he asked, “Do you want to make lunch now, Yvonne?”

            Pretending to look up from my work, I replied, “Not particularly. Didn’t you have a gift card to somewhere close by?” I could have just agreed to make lunch, like I normally did, but I wasn’t in the mood for being nice.

            He grumbled and asked Casey, “What kind of sub would you like, my dear?”

            “The usual, please,” she murmured, leaning up to kiss him as he passed.

            I was about to add what I wanted when he stated, “Von gets a tuna sub with whatever the chick at the counter thinks would go well on it.” Technically, that was my usual. Heading out the door, he took his keys and left without a goodbye.

            For a few minutes, Casey and I went about our business; her, emailing with her work and me distracting myself on my phone. Suddenly, she was sitting at the edge of the couch, trying not to squish my feet, a concerned look in her eyes. “What’s going on with you, Von?” she asked.

            Looking away, I muttered, “Nothing.” I tried to focus on my phone hanging above my head, but she took it out of my hand and put it on the table. She was leaning over me and I felt my chest tighten noticeably. After a few seconds, I shrugged up, so I was sitting down, and Casey slid into the other seat. “I have to move out,” I blurted out, unable to make eye contact.

            “What?” she asked, touching my arm.

            I pulled away from her, took a deep breath, and replied, “It is torture being here with you and, and Travis. It was bad enough when we broke up, but then you started dating and I, and, and I’m still in love with you.”

            Stunned, Casey whispered, “You are?”

            Chuckling, I sighed, “Seriously? I haven’t been so obvious? I’ve tried, really, to move on, but I don’t think it’s possible.” I turned to her with a sad smile; we both knew we were over.

            “Well, maybe I’m still in love with you,” she whispered. Leaning in, she kissed me almost as passionately as when we were together. It was a moment of utter bliss; I held her to me, and we were alone in the world. When she pulled away, I blinked at her in shock.

            The key slid into the lock and I leapt up from the couch, staring at Casey. Rushing past Travis as he walked in, I muttered under my breath, “I gotta go.”

I’ve Got You

            “I’ve got you, Liam,” I murmured, trying to be calm and comforting despite my heart beating out of my chest. He smiled through the pain and nodded as I held his hand. Squeezing his fingers as I stared into his teary eyes, I asked, “Can you squeeze my hand back, honey?”

            Lip quivering, he cried, “I am. April, I am squeezing your hand.” Tears were streaking down his face and he was beginning to panic again.

            I tried to shimmy closer to him under the frame of the car, but there was a twisted door in my way. All up my leg, I could feel shards of glass piercing my skin, but I didn’t care. “It’s, it’s okay, honey. The ambulance is gonna be here before you know it,” I stated in a shaking voice. It was taking all my power to not scream out to him, to not tell him all the things I wanted to say before it happened. Shutting my eyes, I held his hand tightly.

            “How uh, how was Jenny’s uh, the test?” Liam asked, trying to take our minds off the numbness in his arm.

            Sniffling, I replied, “She was thrilled. Um, she uh, she did well. And she uh, she loves you.” Something above our heads shifted and crashed behind me. I tried desperately to ignore it.

            “I love her, too. What about uh, what about your book club this morning?” he continued, groaning.

            I couldn’t reply. Instead, I asked, “Can you feel your other hand?” For a moment, he was quiet, and I held my breath, suspecting the worst. “Liam!?” I shouted, shifting in the rubble and glass and blood.

            Coughing, he gasped, “I’m uh, I’m here. I just, I can’t. No, I can’t. Or my feet.” We locked eyes and he sighed, “I love you and Jenny so much, April. I love you.” He wheezed, then fell silent.

            “Liam!?” I shrieked into the night, “Liam!?”

            When they pulled me out from under the car, I was numb and cold and empty. People were talking to me and asking me things and wrapping me in bandages, but I didn’t really notice them. At some point, Jenny arrived, and the paramedics held her back from her father; she didn’t need to see him like that. I suddenly found myself in the ambulance and it was moving. Jenny was silent beside me, holding my hand so tightly it hurt.

I Love You to the Moon

            “I love you to the moon,” he murmured, holding her hand as she pulled towards the spaceship. They’d been saying goodbye for nearly seven minutes now and some of the other astronauts were getting uncomfortable with the lengthy show of affection.

            Clearly embarrassed, she finally leaned back to kiss him passionately before breaking his hold on her wrist. As she climbed the stairs to reach the ship’s door, she called, “I love you, too!”

            He waited until he couldn’t see her any longer before joining the other family members in the golf cart and it took off down the landing strip. When they reached the viewing area, everyone departed and took their seats. Behind them, stretching all along the fence, were excited people waiting for the launch; they whooped and hollered as everyone arrived.

            After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the countdown finally blared across crackling speakers. The ship started up and smoke and flames billowed around it. When the countdown hit one, there was a collective gasp and the spaceship blasted off into the air.

Everyone was on their feet, holding their breaths, when the enormous machine sputtered twice and was engulfed in a white-hot blaze. Careening to the ground, it hit and threw up more smoke and fire in the wide-open field opposite the viewing place. It continued to smoulder, from what everyone could see, for a while.

No one spoke. The only audible sounds were sobs. Fire engines arrived on the scene, bringing with them flashing lights and screaming sirens.

“I love you to the moon,” the man whispered to himself.

Masks

            “What are you doing!?” I shrieked as another can of paint splashed across the wall and splattered on the floor. As it rolled, leaving a wonky trail of gaudy fluorescent pink across the hardwood floors, I touched my hand to my forehead and shutting my eyes. Taking a settling breath as I heard another bucket hit the floor and a wave of liquid squelched under the toes of my sneakers, I asked calmly, “What are you doing? Please stop for a minute and just tell me what you’re doing.” It wasn’t really about the floors or the walls or the fact that I was never getting my security deposit back; it was deeper than that, but I thought I may stop breathing if I thought too hard about that.

            For a few seconds, there was silence, and I dropped my hand so I could look at my boyfriend. Sweat was dripping down his face, paint was all over his clothing, and there was an asymmetrical cut on his forearm; all the evidence I needed was in the anger in his eyes. “I don’t want to be me anymore,” he shouted, dropping a small bottle of diluted dye that shattered on the floor and leaked in a pool around him.

            I wanted to walk out. Just leave and get past the hell I’d been going through with our relationship. All the years I’d stuck through everything were piling up to regret: the addictions, the growing pains, the mental illness, the career issues, the financial struggles, the intimacy problems. Every reason was there to be used to pull myself out of this mess. But I loved him. I couldn’t stop loving him.

That morning, he’d been happy painting a canvas in the garage as I finished the last checks on the house I’d been renting for us. For two months, the giant painting was covered in tarps when I came home; it was a surprise, he always said. Today, he wanted to finish it to put up in the house we’d rented together. It was a part of our old home to go in our new one. I wanted to go back to the morning.

Instead of walking away, I asked simply, “Who do you want to be, then?” We’d had this conversation over and over again. It was cyclical and always ended with both of us feeling like shit.

“I don’t know,” he replied as he broke a paintbrush in half and threw it on the floor. Anger was still seeping out around him like a musk.

“Then what do you want to do?” I tried again. I was tired of talking him off the edge.

Blinking at me, he replied, “I don’t want to be me. I don’t want to be me. I don’t want the addictions and I wish I hadn’t done all the things I did, and I wish I was someone else.” The anger bubbled up and another paint can soared right through the window, raining glass down between us.

“But you are you. Yes, you did some stupid things and have some struggles, but everyone does,” I stated, trying to keep the emotion out of my voice. Somewhere deep down, I could feel rage and I struggled to suppress it; it wouldn’t help the situation for me to lose my head. When more dye was released, I added, “Look, we don’t get to just be someone else. We are who we are, and we have to deal with what we have in the best way we can.”

“Why can’t I just be someone else?” he shouted as though I was personally holding shut the gates to happiness.

I took a breath and replied, “Because we are who we are. Yeah, sometimes it sucks, but we learn to move past the tough parts and get to the good ones.”

For a second, I thought he was going to scream again when he slid down the wall and sat with his head in his hands. Sniffling loudly, he groaned, “I just want to stop pretending! I wear this stupid mask of making everyone happy and I just want to take it off! Why can’t you just let me be me!?”

I looked down at the mess and carefully tiptoed around the edge to where he was sitting, making a special effort to avoid the large red splotch that looked suspiciously like blood. As I crouched against the wall and put my arm around his shoulders, leaning my chin down to rest on his temple, I sniffled myself. “I want you to take off the mask, too,” I whispered, stroking his arm.

“Really?” he breathed as my hand started to cramp, moving at a bad angle. Clearing his throat, he murmured, “You just want me to be who you want, though. You don’t care if I’m me or not, so long as I’m who you want me to be.” He pulled away and I was forced to stand up.

With a long sigh, I retorted, “That is not what I want at all. I want you to be the real you. I want you to get rid of the mask you wear now and I don’t want you to build a new one.” He remained where he was and I touched my head again. “I know the real you. I love the real you,” I murmured, stretching my back out. Still, he didn’t stir. Part of me screamed to leave while a still could. The part that loved him was quiet.

Nodding to myself, I continued in earnest, “Lately, it’s been really hard to get you to open up, to talk to the you behind the mask. It’s like you’re wearing two masks now. The one on top is the one that you show the world and is that agreeable and meek person you hate, then there’s the one you’ve been creating so you don’t have to be you, then there’s the real you way down there. It’s twice the work to get there now, and I think you used glue on the new one.” The joke at the end elicited a short chuckle and the lovey-dovey, romantic in me was ecstatic.

“I don’t know how to fix this,” he mumbled finally, looking up.

Touching his shoulder, I replied, “We’ll figure it out together. I love you.” Maybe our lives were a mess, especially the life that went on in this room, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle together. I wasn’t looking forward to cleaning up the paint, though.

the Park

            I watched a small platoon of ducklings swimming jovially across the pond, their mother preening in the sunlight as she watched them. Suddenly, a small contingent of children, who may as well have been unsupervised, traipsed down to the edge of the water and began tossing stones at the tiny things. Under attack, the group peeped and chirped and hurried back to their mother, who drifted just out of reach of the children. Realizing their offspring were causing a commotion, a few mothers stood at the top of the bank and shouted at the kids. To accomplish this, they used every option in their arsenals; begging, demanding, threatening. Finally, the ducklings were saved, and the children grumbled along the path.

            All three stone chess tables were in use and a small crowd had gathered ‘round to watch the games. One of the pairs seemed to be locked deep in thought as neither was moving the pieces of a hand-carved stone set. Beside them, seated at a picnic bench having a lovely chat, were their wives. The second stand had amassed a following as a very young child took on an older gentleman who seemed to have a lot of experience at park chess. Every couple of minutes one of them would make a fantastic move and the whole crowd would groan as one. Off to the far side, a couple of younger men were using scraps of metal and wood for their game; they continually consulted a book, indicating that both were novices.

            Glancing at my watch, I turned to the gazebo where my daughter was just tuning her cello, along with the rest of her musical group. She looked over and I waved; most weeks, the parks department made a small selection of outdoor seating available, but this week they were honouring someone at a different park so it would be standing room only. Again, I checked the time.

            “I know I’m late, but Antony was dealing with stuff at work and he wanted me to drop him off,” Pallish murmured as she sat down on the bench. Taking my hand, she leaned in for a kiss and I ducked it.

            I sighed and murmured, “Jade was really hoping you’d both be here this week. I know this situation is complicated, but if he’s going to have such a huge part in her life, Antony needs to be here.” It had only been a year since we let Antony into our couple and, while I loved him dearly, Pallish and my relationship with our daughter had become strained with his addition. Groaning, I leaned over to give her a kiss and she settled in to listen to our daughter.

            “Maybe this is too hard,” she murmured as the concert started. I’d been thinking the same thing. Sighing deeply, she continued, “I love you and Antony so much, though. I love being with you both and this is making the intimacy thing easier.”

            I smiled at Jade and replied, “It is. I don’t feel that pressure I did before. And Antony is so fun, and he and I get along really well, and I do love him, but I don’t know if I’m in love with him anymore. Maybe I’m just in love with the idea of him.” Sitting up, Pallish looked me in the eye, biting back tears. “I know you’re in love with him and I would never ask you to choose, just, I think we may need to have a conversation about boundaries and responsibilities in this family,” I concluded, feeling like an older person as I said it.

            “Jade is twelve and we want to adopt a couple more kids; we do need a stable household if we’re going to have more kids,” she mused. Tears dribbled down her cheek and I wiped them away.

            “I love you, Pallish, and we will get through this,” I sighed as we embraced. With the first difficult situation out of the way, I could really enjoy our daughter’s concert.