Текст книги "After Forever Ends "
Автор книги: Melodie Ramone
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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 39 страниц)
“A changing table and a wardrobe,” He wrapped me in his arms, too excited to let me find out for myself, “And a wee little cradle, all for the baby,” He was so proud of himself his chest puffed, “And a rocking chair that glides for my beautiful wee little mummy.”
“I love you so much!”
“I love you both so much! Come and see the new room, yeah?”
“I’d love it!”
He led me back by the hand through the doorway. My free one immediately flew up over my mouth. It was gorgeous. My husband and his twin brother were both artists in their own right, but they had outdone themselves. On the first wall as you entered was a mural of little boys and girls and fuzzy white lambs playing about on a rolling green pasture beneath a cloud scattered sky. Another wall was a rainbow with birds of all colours and sizes soaring all around it. Beneath the rainbow, they had added an eagle that was being chased by a dragon above a small cabin in a wood. I was relieved that the eagle was not yet clamped the dragon’s jaws. The third wall was painted with scenes from a child’s nursery rhymes. Lines from different stories were heading in all directions around the people and animals from the tales. And on the final wall, surrounding the door, were creatures from the sea, friendly looking dolphins and whales and colourful fishes, splashing after each other in a playful game of chase.
Tears were rolling down my cheeks.
“Do you like it, Love?” He asked quietly.
“It’s more than beautiful! It’s…there are not words, Oliver!” I looked up into his face, “This was all your idea, wasn’t it?”
“I couldn’t have done all this without Alexander. He’s really the one with the talent.” He looked around proudly. “But, yeah, the idea was mine.”
“I honestly do not think that I can be happier than I am right now,” I wiped away my tears before I put my arms around my husband and more spilled out, “I think if I was any happier than this I would just die!”
“Then don’t get any happier,” Oliver told me seriously. “Because we have a baby to be born and I need you to help me raise it. I can’t have you dying. I couldn’t stand it.”
“Marry me, Oliver?”
He looked down at my bulging belly, “You should have thought of that before you seduced me, Silvia! We’re a little late in the game for marrying! Everyone knows I got you pregnant!” He could always make me laugh. “But, yeah, OK, I’ll marry you. It’ll be scandalous, but I’ll do it.”
“Good.”
Oliver didn’t stop spoiling me with the nursery. Over the next few months, he did a few practical things as well, like purchase an ice box so we had a place to store milk and got me a washer-dryer so I didn’t need to take the baby to the laundry with me.
“I don’t want my child in that filthy place!” He ranted as he struggled to install it by himself. “Blast it! My thumb!”
He even had the good sense to have solar panels installed to store energy in a generator so we could work all our new possessions since we were too far from civilization to have electric lines run. My Oliver was certainly Johnny on the Spot. And then he did the best thing ever. He hooked us up with a satellite dish and got us new laptop computers and a brand new television. “You can use the computer to ring me when I’m at work,” He told me, “This little gizmo works just like a phone, so I’ll always be able to come right home to you if you need ever me.”
I used the phone first to call on my father, whom I had not spoken to since I’d told him we were expecting. For some reason I had a very deep need to talk to him right then.
“Silvia!” There was a hint of relief in Dad’s voice, “I’m so glad you rang! How is everything?”
“It's fine, Daddy! It's really, really good!”
I talked to my father longer than I had ever before in my life. I told him all about the pregnancy, about the nursery and the appliances. I told him about Nigel. I talked to my father like he was an old friend who needed catching up, like he was someone with whom I held no secrets. He asked questions and laughed with me and then told me all about the work he was doing and the travels his research was taking him on. And he told me all about Lucy, who was off at uni. He gave me her new phone number and told me to call her after seven. “She’s back to her flat by then,” He explained, “She asks about you all the time, Silvia. She’s very concerned about you and the baby. I think she said she spoke to Oliver the other day, but you really should ring her yourself.”
“I will,” I promised, “I suppose I should let you go, Dad. Oliver cooked supper so I could talk with you a while. I’m really hungry.”
“Well, a wise man does not separate a pregnant woman from her food. I learned that with your mother,” He actually laughed again. “Go and have your supper then.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, Silvia. Give me a ring at least when the baby comes and let me know. I’m hoping you’ll let me come and visit.”
“Let you? Oh, Daddy, you’re always welcome!”
“That’s good to know. Don’t forget to ring me when the baby’s here.”
“One of us will. I promise.”
“Good bye, Silvia.”
“Cheers, Daddy!”
I hung up the phone and sat in the chair for a moment before I joined Oliver at the table. “Nice chat, Love?” He asked. He'd already filled my plate with vegetables and mash.
“The best.”
“Excellent,” He grinned across the table at me.
I went six more weeks before the baby came. I was so round I looked like a deformed balloon with fat little hands and feet sticking out. I was heavy and miserable and was probably miserable to be around, but as always, the meaner I became the sweeter Oliver forced himself to be. He still brought me home everything I asked for, only now I had a phone and could make on the second requests. The situation had become dangerous.
The night before she was born I had to have a pizza. I mean, I absolutely without question HAD to have a bloody pizza. It could not have just been any pizza, either. It had to have extra pepperoni and then I dumped hot sauce all over it. Chinese hot sauce, the kind that has the potential to blister your lips, if not melt the flesh from the inside of your cheeks. I poured it on like maple syrup.
Oliver was looking at me like I’d gone off my nut. “Would you like a sandwich with that, Love?” He asked as he picked up his second piece and saw half the pie had already gone. I started laughing and, as usual, I could not stop. I giggled until my sides ached while he just sat there grinning at me and shaking his head. But I cannot describe the stomach ache I had when I woke up at four in the morning. Or, at least, I thought I had a stomach ache. I jumped up and raced to the toilet. Fear tore through me that I would not make it in time.
“Hot sauce can be your friend or your enemy,” Oliver mumbled to me from the bed, “You should have stopped after the thirty-seventh piece.”
I would have laughed, but the pain in my gut kept me from it. The urge to loosen my bowels passed. I came back into the bedroom and started into bed when it hit me again. I jumped up and rushed back to the toilet. I repeated this action ten more times and finally had a good picture of what was happening. Oliver by this time was, predictably, sound asleep.
I knew it was contractions, I was just not sure at what point I should wake my sleeping prince and tell him about them. I sat on the bed with the dog and timed them for three hours, walking back and forth from the toilet for safety’s sake. Finally, at about seven o’clock Oliver opened his eyes and smiled, “Good morning, Just Silvia.”
“Good morning!” I said straight as the well-aimed arrow flies, standing in the middle of the room with my legs spread apart and my pyjamas clinging to them, “My water just broke.”
“Blimey!” He jumped so high he might have hit his head on the ceiling. “Blimey!” He said again and leapt out of the bed.
“I’m going to change my clothes,” I was a bizarre sort of calm. “Will you pack a bag?”
“What do we need?” He tripped on the dog and caught himself against the dressing table.
“Er…I don’t know. I have a bag packed for the baby. That’s in the wardrobe in the nursery. For me, I’ll need a change of clothes for sure. I don’t know what else.” I padded to the dresser and started rummaging for dry clothes. “A hairbrush and my toothbrush. Pack an overnight bag as if I were staying with your mother, I reckon.”
“Right!” He yanked on a pair of jeans and stood there bare chested. He stared at me and then that smile spread across his face, that marvellous, dangerous grin that made me go all crazy inside, “We’re having a baby!”
I grinned back at him, “I know!” Another contraction hit me. I leaned over and tolerated it. “Oooooh. We need to go soon!”
He pulled a shirt over his head, “OK, go put fresh clothes on. I’ll pack your bag.”
Oliver was waiting by the front door when I came out of the toilet. He helped me into my Wellies and pulled my coat around me, “Car’s started,” He said as we went out the door and were hit straight in the face with a blast of cold wind. “Roads should be pretty clear by now,” He added. “Bags are in the boot,” He held me up as another contraction ripped through me. When I was able to walk again, he helped me into the car. I heard him shout as he rounded the front to get in himself, “Lord Copse! Lady Folia! She’s having our baby! Keep an eye on the dog and send the wind at our backs, yeah?”
Still being shaken by losing our first child, I had decided long before I had wanted to have the baby at hospital. It was only a twenty-five or so minute drive, but it was the longest ride of my life. Oliver was driving faster than I would have liked, but I wasn't going to argue with that fact because I was terrified if he didn't I'd have the baby in the car. Still, if I didn't say something and we ploughed into a drift, I'd be having the baby in the car all the same. I clung to the handle of the door as if it were some fail safe to keep me from sudden and instant death while I decided which choice to make.
“I'd like to live to have this baby!” I finally breathed as he barrelled through the snow drifts. They sprayed up over the windscreen and whited out the view. I pinched my eyes shut to block out the terror and concentrated on breathing through another contraction.
Oliver didn't take his eyes off the road, “I know these paths like the back of my hand,” He assured, “I've driven them a hell of a lot faster than this in deeper snow. It's going to be all right, Sil. I'm going to get us there.”
“I love you,” I swore out loud, but in my head I was thinking that my husband had the brains of an ant. I began to pray to a God that I'd never believed in that Oliver was telling me the truth and was not just being over confident about his driving skills.
The hospital was the same one where Nigel had been born. I remember thinking about that as I waddled up the path to the door, Alex's son. I remember thinking about Alex as we walked through the sliding glass doors. It still seemed strange to me how our lives had intertwined from so early an age and how they continued to stretch together in a common direction, always crossing, always mimicking the other. The three of us; Oliver, Alex and me, always together in one way or form, inseparable from the start. All three of us becoming parents under the same roof in the same year. I couldn't imagine sharing so much of my life with anybody but them.
“Phone Alex,” I told Oliver through clenched teeth as I leaned against the wall and contracted violently, “I want him to be here. For a minute. Let him know he’s not staying. I want him to leave when I say and come back when I want him around again.”
“I will, Love.” Oliver rubbed the small of my back, “I will the moment you're settled.”
By the time we got to the Obstetrics floor I was in serious distress. The contractions were coming hard and fast. I handled them by taking quick steps between them and then falling against the nearest wall when they'd hit. A fat nurse saw me from down the hall and rushed up with a wheelchair. She popped me in and took me to a room where she stuck me on to a bed. Oliver was rushed in a different direction to have me registered.
“I'll be right back,” He promised as he quickly kissed me.
“Ollie, I'm afraid.” I clung to his hand. I was, too. Horribly afraid. I don't know if it was the fact that he was leaving me or that the realisation that I was about to give birth was setting in, but I was suddenly terrified. My heart was pounding. I felt tears rise into my eyes and spill down my cheeks.
“I know, Sweetie,” He eased my hair back, “I'll only be a minute.”
“No need to be afraid,” The nurse assured me without any sort of smile. She gave Oliver a sort of shove toward the door, “Women have been doing this since the beginning of time.”
She sounded like my dad. Dismissive of my thoughts and concerns. I was just a silly girl. She may as well have said it. A silly girl without a choice who shouldn't be feeling what I was.
Oliver recognised the look on my face, because he sort of snapped at her, “Well, women may have, but Sil never has, so let's try to make her feel better instead of stupid, shall we?”
The nurse's mouth fell open. She clamped it shut, “Right!” She said, suddenly smiling at me, “I'm sorry. All I meant was that your body's built for this! You can do it! And you have a great staff here as well! Who's your doctor, Sweetie?”
She and I made bogus, pleasant chit chat for another few minutes before she excused herself. I appreciated her effort, but I still didn't like her much. It was obvious that under the false exterior of giving a shit about me that she'd rather be someplace else.
I waited there in that room, contracting like a quilt drying on line during a windy day, for a bit longer before I realised there was another woman with me. She had been quiet when I'd come in, but it wasn't long before her husband arrived and she began moaning and carrying on as if Death had her in his grip.
I found it telling that she'd been perfectly peaceful until he'd come. Some women will do anything for attention, even in a situation where all the attention is on them anyway. It's always bothered me, the drama they perform. I took it as long as I could before my own discomfort and wanting of my husband made me lose my grip. “Shut your noise!” I growled at her, “You’re not making it any better for the rest of us having to hear you carry on while we’re suffering the same pains!” Another contraction hit and I clenched my teeth.
“Oh, Daniel! It hurts!” She cried.
“I SAID SHUT IT!” I growled.
The nurse pulled a curtain shut between us. Seconds later Oliver appeared and I immediately felt much better.
“You doing all right?” He asked softly as he took my hand.
“My back hurts. The whole thing's in knots,” I felt the tears well up in my eyes again, “This sucks, Ollie, and I want it to end quickly. I know it'll get worse, too.”
“It'll take its course,” He promised, “Sit up and let me get behind you.”
I said nothing, but moved forward on to the bed and allowed him to slip behind me, one leg on either side of my body. He pressed me forward with his palms and skilfully massaged every muscle from my shoulders to my lower back. “Deep breaths,” He coached, “In through the nose and out through the mouth. Close your eyes and go with the pain. You can't fight it, you can only survive it. Deep breaths...”
He'd really done his homework on reading what to do to help me through my labour and I wished even then that any of it was working, but the tension in my body and mind were impossible to shake. Between the pain of the contractions and the relentless cramping of the muscles in my back complied with the drama queen in the bed across the room from me and my own anxiety, I was ready to demolish buildings with my bare hands.
“Relax, Sil.”
I sobbed, but not because of the pain. I sobbed because I was still afraid. I was afraid because I was helpless and the pain only made that more clear. But soon enough the pain did its job and intensified to the point where I wasn't frightened anymore. I was just angry. I was angry and I wanted to get the whole thing done with. It was taking too long.
I took the blanket into my hands and squeezed it with all my might as Oliver continued to rub and press along my spine.
About twenty minutes later the nurse returned, bursting through the curtain as if I should be excited she had arrived. She sang, “How are you feeling?”
“Murderous.”
“Let me check your cervix,” She slipped on a glove. “Off the bed, You!” She waved a hand at Oliver, who dutifully slid out from behind me. “Lay back, Silvia.”
“Do you really have to?” I asked, hesitantly moving back to the head of the bed and lying down. Over the last few days I'd had my cervix checked a couple of times and it was not my favourite experience.
“Yes, I have to.”
“Can’t he do it?” I motioned to Oliver. “He is a doctor, you know?”
“I’m a doctor of paediatrics, not obstetrics, Love.”
“Afraid not, Dear,” She said as she shoved her fist up my twat and then removed it promptly, “Good news! You’re ready to go to delivery!”
Another contraction mowed over me like a dozer. “I want drugs!” I said as soon as it had passed. “And I want them now!”
She wheeled me into a different room without another word. The new nurse there was much younger and smaller than the first, a blonde with dark green eyes and a nice smile, but I decided she wasn’t worth a damn when she told me that it was too late for an epidural.
“What?” I nearly screamed, turning on to my side to endure yet another blinding contraction, “You are so full of shit!”
Oliver laughed out loud.
“Don't despair,” The little nurse told me, “We have other drugs!”
She hooked me up to an IV with deft skill and shot something not nearly as good as an epidural into my IV that numbed my brain, but not so much my contractions. It did, however, dull my sense of fear and I felt quite comfortable and confident in the idea that I was about to pass an object that weighed at least seven pounds out of a passage that I'd felt violated for having a fist inside just a moment before.
I don’t remember much about the birth other than it felt like I had the stomach flu, a heated screwdriver tearing at my guts, and my privates were aflame. I remember Oliver holding my hand and telling me I was doing great. I remember, too, the doctor wandering by at the exact moment I was certain that the baby would never come out and I would die.
“You're ready to deliver!” He announced as if I should be surprised, “I'm here to help!”
“Oh? Are you going to yank it out for me?” I asked.
He looked at me as if I were mad.
Oliver chuckled.
“She's feisty,” Said the nurse.
I continued to labour for I don't know how much longer. I was so tired I thought I'd never make it through, but right at the end I suddenly felt extremely strong. I pulled myself to a near sitting position on the end of the bed, “Just get away from me!” I commanded, “Let me do this!”
They all three backed off immediately.
“Ollie,” I pulled my hand away from his, “You stay close! But don't you dare...touch… me!” I bore down.
“Push, Love!” Oliver told me, counting along with the doctor and the nurse, “One! Two! Three!” He was so excited. I was vaguely aware that he was smiling with his mouth wide open, “You're doing great, Silvia! You're doing so great!”
I wondered how the hell he knew if I was doing so great when with one final push and a collective cheer from the doctor, nurse and Oliver, out of me shot…
Absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“It’s a girl!” The doctor proclaimed, “Congratulations!”
Our baby screamed bloody murder.
“Hear that?” Oliver kissed me hard on the mouth, “Hear all that noise? That’s our girl! She’s ours, Sil! Listen to her! Isn’t she wonderful?”
“She is!” I don’t know why, but I was laughing. The nurse was pushing on my belly like she was trying to kill me to help me expel the placenta and I was laughing. “Listen to her bitch, Oliver! That’s the Dickinson in her right there!”
He let loose with a ridiculous cackle, “Aye, Love, that would be true! She sounds like Alexander on a bad day!”
After few moments they brought her over to us.
“Oliver, Oliver!” They put that little bundle in my arms, “Oliver, look at her! We’ve made a little monkey! Look, she’s just like a tiny ape!”
“Don’t say that, Mummy!” He bent closer at my side.
“No, honestly! She looks like a chimp! Look at her! She’s all funky! She looks like a teeny tiny baby orang-utan!”
“They’re all like that,” The nurse smiled gently.
“All of them come out looking like a deranged lemur?” Oliver asked genuinely. “Like some bizarre, demented infant baboon?”
The nurse’s eyes grew wide with horror.
Oliver and I, of course, laughed hysterically. We were having our first good joke at our new baby’s expense. And why not? We both knew new born babies were rarely attractive. Neither of us had a doubt she’d turn out fine. Besides, she was too young yet to take any offence.
“I don’t think she’s an ape at all, Love,” Oliver took her tiny foot in his hand and fingered her toes, “She’s just a wee little wet muffin is all! Give her time to dry out! She’s only got that look on her face cause of all that blooming hot sauce you made her ingest last night! You looked like a gorilla yourself this morning! I thought I woke up beside a grey back!”
“Ha!” I cried. Literally, I was crying. I was so happy and it all seemed so funny. Indigestion, various types of apes, new born babies, birth, life, marriage, the faith it took us to finally get there. It was all more than I could understand, but it was all real. As real as Oliver and me and our wee little wet muffin sitting there in the delivery room laughing it up together for the very first time.
Now that is a precious memory indeed.
When I was brought to a recovery room it was filled with flowers and cards and balloons. “How many people did you call?” I asked Oliver.
“Just Alexander, like you said. I told him to call whoever he thought of.”
I looked at a tag tied to a teddy bear, “Oh, my! This is from Sandy! He called Sandy! I miss her!”
“Of course he did, Love. She’s your best girlfriend. Are you ready for company? There are about a hundred people waiting to see you.”
“I suppose. I must look terrible.”
“Are you joking? You look absolutely amazing!” He gave me a wink, “I’ll be back.”
I sat there and looked around the room at all the gifts for a moment until people began to pour in.
“Silvia!” Ana was the first one in, Edmond stuck at her heels, “She’s absolutely perfect!”
“Did you see her?”
“Through the nursery window. The nurse said there are too many people here, but we don’t care!” She bent down and kissed me on the cheek, “My first granddaughter! Thank you!”
Edmond was speechless. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t. He just stood there grinning and then he winked at me. He looked a lot like his sons when he did it. Finally he leaned over and kissed me right in the middle of my forehead, “We love you, Silvia!” He grinned as he pulled Oliver under his arm and kissed his forehead, too. “You did excellent, Son!”
Alexander and Melissa were next into the room, “Good job, Sil!” Alex had a sleeping Nigel on his shoulder. He stooped over and kissed me on the head, “She’s gorgeous!”
“Oh my!” I nearly screamed in shock and delight, “Lance Crosby, you old dog! What on Earth are you doing here?”
“Visiting you, of course!” He came over and gave me a huge hug. “You went and finally had that baby you’ve been carrying around since boarding school! You were pregnant nine years instead of nine months! Well done! I was in Caernarfon when Alexander rang me and I thought…well, hell…I ain’t had a day off in a while, so I drove on down.”
“You have not changed one wee bit! Except you’re a hair taller…let me see. Yes, you might be!”
“Oh, how I’ve missed you and your lies!”
“Sil,” Oliver pushed his way through and held out the phone. “You’ll want to take this.”
I took it from his hand, “Hello?”
“Silvia, it’s Lucy! Oh, I’ve missed the whole thing! Damn it! I wanted to be there!”
“She’s a girl! She looks like a chimpanzee!”
“Like a what?”
“She’s all squishy, she’s adorable. She looks like a squishy monkey!” I stuck my finger in my free ear, “Where are you?”
“I’m just crossing into England from home,” She was living in Scotland again. She'd gone back after she graduated from high school because she was worried about leaving Daddy alone. She'd struck out on her own since, but I knew she still kept close tabs on him, “I can’t believe I missed it! A girl! Brilliant! Dad is with me! We’ll be there as soon as we can! Don’t do anything else without me!”
“Oh, be careful, but hurry! I can’t wait to see you!”
“I’m losing bars now, Sil…I love you…”
The call dropped as I said, “I love you, too!”
“Lucy’s coming,” I told everyone excitedly, “And my dad, too!”
“I knew she’d make it back sooner or later,” Oliver tapped Alex on the shoulder, “Our sweet Lucy’s on her way!”
“Sweet Little Lucy Cotton!” Alexander grinned, “I haven’t seen her since she was in a training bra! Brilliant!”
Melissa shot him a look and he immediately straightened his face.
Lance had just hung up his mobile, “Merlyn sends his best. He’s in flipping Holland, if you can believe that. He’s in a meeting, but he’ll call you tonight personally.”
“What’s he doing in Holland?” I asked. Through my drugged and foggy mine, I couldn't imagine anybody needing to go to Holland for anything. It seemed like such a bizarre and strange place to be. I couldn't fathom how he could be there and not in England, even though he was Welsh and now lived in France. My head was a mess of physical exhaustion and narcotics.
“Some kind of business. He’s always travelling. He was in Finland last week.”
“Bollocks!” Alexander announced, “He’s gone to Holland get himself a pair of those wooden shoes! I’m so jealous!”
“Yeah!” Agreed Lance, “Me, too!”
By the time the room had cleared out a few hours later and the nurse had brought our baby back to us, I was too tired to hold her. Oliver, however, was not. He kicked off his shoes and told me to shove over. He crawled up into the bed with her in his arms. He set her between us. We both lay there and stared at our daughter, completely in awe.
“She’s perfect,” I whispered.
“Oh, yes. We made muffin magic with this one.” He couldn't take his eyes off of her.
“One day she’ll make muffin history.”
“Are we calling her after Madame Pennyweather?”
I felt the first ping of sadness I had in a very long time. Our headmistress had died late that autumn in hospital after suffering injuries she sustained in a car accident. We had spoken to her about a month before it happened on the phone and told her about the pregnancy. She had sounded so excited for us, “You are going to be wonderful parents! Children are the most beautiful blessing! You’ll have to bring the little one by and let me have a look!”
The only reason why we found out she’d died was that Lucy had a friend whose little brother was still in attendance at Bennington. Lucy called to let us know that they were having a public memorial service for our headmistress at the school. Oliver and Alexander were determined to go.
“This completely fucking sucks,” Alex said as we entered the great hall, “That woman was like a second mother to me!”
“You called her a witch,” Oliver reminded him, “You said she was a nightmare. You wish she’d crash into all sorts of things on her broomstick.”
“Well, she was!” Alex insisted a little too loudly, “She knew things there was no way she could have known without having some other-worldly sense. It was never a mutual dislike we shared. It was just a series of conflicting sensibilities.” He looked around, “Holy shite, this place has not changed one bit!”
It hadn’t. The polished wooden tables were the same ones in the same positions, even the tapestries had the same wear in the same spots. Even the chairs were still sitting in the same places. It was like stepping back ten years in time, which made it even more surreal that we were there to say good bye to a friend instead of returning to visit one.
Headmistress’ body was not present at the service, but there were dozens of photos on display. The twins and I found ourselves staring at one in particular of an attractive young girl, maybe sixteen years old, lying on her belly in one of the fields surrounding the school with her face propped up on her hands. Her hair was long and dark, scooping around a moon shaped face. A strand was caught between two pouting, heart like lips that curled into a shy smile. She was unrecognisable except for the slightly slanted, spring green eyes and the Bennington emblem on her uniform jumper. There was an autograph in the corner that read, “To Joshua, I will love you forever. Your Carolina.”
“Mister Joshua,” Oliver whispered with a far off look in his eyes, “The bloke who used to come in and set up the Christmas tree. He was her husband.”
“Mister Joshua was her husband?” Alex leaned in to take a closer look at the writing.
“Must’ve been.” Oliver was still staring at the photo, but he moved to allow Alexander to see, “If you look over on that table there are a couple of wedding pictures. I thought the groom looked familiar. Mister Joshua’s right over there with Professor Fields and Professor Nickels. He looks a wreck. He was always here at night, remember? We’d see him after hours all the time. I bet he came and stayed with her when she worked late.”
“Wow, I never thought of it. Poor guy, losing his wife like this,” Alexander touched the frame, “You were right, though. Once upon a time she really was a daisy, Ollie.”
“I told you,” He muttered as he took my hand, “You looked at her and all you saw was old. I looked at her and I saw a woman. Take the time away from her face and she was absolutely lovely. You could see it, even through the lines around her eyes. Caroleeeena,” He drew out the name, “A beautiful name for a beautiful lady. I absolutely adored her.”
“She’ll be missed,” I said softly. A lot of wives might have been jealous of the affection their husband had for any female, but I never was. I always thought it was sweet, Oliver’s infatuation with an older woman and one who was his headmistress at that. To me, it was another example of one of his best qualities; his heart was as free as his mind, “She was so special.”
