Dear Meredith (2 page)

Chapter 3

           
Dear Meredith,

            You're at the store right now, getting me some of that Rocky Road ice cream I asked for. You looked at me with those marvellous green eyes, as though you just knew I had an ulterior motive.

            Did you know it was your eyes that I first fell in love with? The colour of the sea when the sun is shining brightest in the sky, shooting little diamond glitters all over the waves.

            You had glared at me, that day when we first met. I had knocked into you on a wet, rainy day, when everyone was hiding under their umbrellas and rushing around trying to get somewhere nice and warm.

            The stack of books you were holding had clattered onto the pavement and you looked up at me furiously. I swear, darling, my heart stopped beating for a moment. You know I'm not a religious man, but at that moment, it felt like some big cosmic shift had happened and something suddenly clicked into place.

            Of course, good sense quickly took over and I scrambled to pick up your books before you decided then and forevermore that not only was I a clumsy clod, but an ungentlemanly one as well.

            You had such an odd assortment of books - vampires, history, philosophy and crime all mishmashed together. I had not exchanged a single word with you, but I thought of you already as the most fascinating woman I'd ever met.

            I must have done something right that day, because you agreed to have coffee with me, the barest twinkle of amusement in your eyes as you watched me trying to juggle your books while ensuring my umbrella didn't poke your eye out.

            By the end of those two hours, I was sure I would marry you. And to my everlasting amazement, so did you.

            And, well, we've been having coffee ever since.

            Meredith, thank you, for making me a better man since you came into my life. I'm sorry that I couldn't keep our vows until we are old and gray. It kills me to see the haunted look that has crept into your eyes when you think I'm not looking.

            I know that my death has hit you hard, and the thought of hurting you makes me feel sick to my stomach. But this is something beyond us both. This disease is something I can't make to go away and protect you from.

            But what I
can
do, my darling wife, is to set you free. I want nothing more than for you to be happy again, to see those green eyes sparkle once more.

            It's now time for you to start creating new memories and remember me with joy, not sadness. It's time for you to live for yourself.

            I know you can't imagine life without me, the same way I could not without you. But you're so much stronger than you think. I don't promise it will be easy, but this will pass and you'll be able to think of me with a smile.

            You'll do just fine, and I'll always be watching over you. So on you must soldier, along this new path.

            I love you, so very much.

            Your clumsy clod,

            Michael

            p.s. This is the first of three letters from me. Each one contains a surprise. For the first one, visit Old Ned tomorrow night.

           
I can barely see through the film of tears that cover my eyes. Sharp twin spikes of pain and happiness lance through me, my heart throbbing anew with the knowledge of my loss while it also sang with euphoria that Mike was still, in some way, with me.

            That the essence of him was still here and that not everything had been swallowed into the grave.

           
I know you can't imagine life without me, the same way I could not without you. But you're so much stronger than you think. So on you must soldier, along this new path.

           
His words echo in my head, so clearly that I hear his calm, tenor voice saying them.

            It reminds me of the dreams I've been having, of running along a path with him, hand-in-hand. And then jumping off the cliff, hovering in free fall
;
f
eeling for one brief moment, neither the sky nor the earth but something in between.

            Along this new path
? Yes, I suppose the past few weeks have been a journey, even though it was less of a walk and more of a despairing crawl.

            My heart hurts terribly, a non-physical pain that spreads into every part of me. Stronger? I don't think so.

            My tears spill a trail of salt down my cheeks, track down the sides of my mouth as I rest my forehead against the palm of my hand. I have heard that grief is a transient thing. That impossible as it may sound, this feeling of immense loss will one day ease.

            I don't know. The lump in my throat feels like it has found a permanent home and my eyes are burning with dryness whenever they are not leaking.

            Mike had been so
there,
so much larger than life. There had been no unknowns in life with him. He had decided he would love me until the end, and that was that.

            Now, my life is one big giant question mark.

            I look down at the letter again.

           
For the first surprise, visit Old Ned tomorrow night.
 

            I stare at myself for a long time after rubbing a circular patch of steam away from the bathroom mirror.

            My eyes look strained, a lost expression haunts them, while my cheekbones jut out prominently.

            I have lost weight, a shocking amount for someone who has always been slim.

            With this sudden visit to Old Ned on the cards, I am forced to take my first real shower in a while.

            To my surprise, all the scrubbing and cleaning and shampooing has done wonders for my mood. And I actually feel halfway to human now.

            After slipping into worn jeans and a white tee, I towel my hair dry, my thoughts slipping back to the letter for the umpteenth time.

            Why Old Ned? He runs the hardware store closest to our house and Mike was a frequent customer, since he loved building things. But I didn't know Mike to be particularly chummy with him.

            I feel my mouth quirk into a smile. I am actually burning with curiousity, I realise.

            What is this surprise Mike had planned?

            It was just like him to come up with such ideas.

            I remember with a pang the convoluted treasure hunt he had sent me on for my last birthday. After a good two hours of running around like a headless chicken, I had finally solved it and was rewarded with the most beautiful phoenix pendant necklace I had ever seen.

            He had placed it around my neck and I had worn it ever since, its ruby eyes glinting mysteriously every time the light hit it just right.

            "Why do you love phoenixes?" he had asked me on our third date, his blue eyes resting seriously on mine, as we lay facing each other on the picnic mat.

            It had been the sort of day wherein fat, fluffy clouds contorted themselves into all sorts of shapes to tease the imagination and when lemonade and cold sandwiches seemed like the best meal on earth.

            "Because it represents rebirth, renewal, new beginnings," I had replied briefly, unwilling to divulge much about my past to him then.

             He had digested my answer carefully, then took my hand in his. "I hope this beginning has no ending."

            I had burst into laughter at the cheesy line, his own hearty laugh echoing mine seconds later.

            However, he soon grew serious again and took me into his arms, his hand pressed firmly against the small of my back.

            I had stared up at him, bare inches above me as I breathed in his smell, his shoulder against my cheek feeling impossibly solid and reassuring.

            It was the first time we had been in such close proximity and I was shocked at how familiar it felt and yet how hard my heart was pounding.

            He had given me a wicked, sensual smile, his eyes focused on my lips, which parted under his scrutiny.

            When he kissed me for the first time, under the huge oak tree, it felt like I was falling from a great height, an odd weightlessness filling my entire being.

            It was wonderful and scary because it felt like we were two jigsaw pieces that had finally found their match.

            I'd gotten butterflies in my stomach when I'd kissed other guys before, but this felt like a whole herd of elephants was trampling their way through my insides.

            When he finally lifted his head, his eyes had turned a brooding blue with desire, his voice merely a husky whisper as he repeated, "I hope this beginning has no ending."

            I come back to myself with a jolt, realising I have lost myself in memories yet again. My fingers brush against my mouth, and I try to swallow against that damned lump in my throat.

The sense of devastating loss hits me again, feeling just as fresh and awful as the first time I'd felt it.

             "Hey, Meredith! Been expecting you."

            Old Ned bestows his crinkled grin on me and briefly envelops me in a massive and awkward hug.

            I struggle to contain my surprise. He isn't normally a very demonstrative person, but I guess he makes exceptions for newly-minted widows.

            "Hiya, Old Ned. How've you been?"

            "Same old, same old. Doing as well as can be expected in these times, I suppose. I'm sorry about Mike; he was a fine man, hard to find someone like that in these times."

            I stare at him as he faces me in his customary position behind the counter, dressed in his faded jeans and red checkered shirt. I didn't know him well - I'd dropped in with Mike perhaps three or four times to get stuff, but I had liked him on sight.

            Old Ned has always reminded me of Bobby Singer in Supernatural, complete with facial hair and a worn cap parked for life on his head.

            "How about you? Have you been... coping well?"

            I can't resist a sudden wave of affection for the gruff man. Old Ned was clearly in pain as he tried his best to express his concern without seeming intrusive.

            "Doing as well as I can, Old Ned. Taking every day as it comes."

            He nods approvingly, clears his throat. "That's the spirit. You'll do fine, my girl. Well, guess you're wanting to know Mike's surprise for you."

            I nod, feeling the folded letter in the back pocket of my jeans. "I'm dying to know, as a matter of fact."