Speed of Light (27 page)

“I’m so sorry. Your uncle passed moments ago,” she said.

The man nodded, resolved in his grief but as if relief lived in him too. “You were here?” he asked me.

I nodded, not sure what to say. “He was at peace. He smiled at me.”

“He came to me. I know that sounds crazy, but I woke up because it was like someone turned on all the fixtures in my apartment, but no lights were on. He was standing
there. And he said it was time to go but not to worry, that he had company. A girl of the window.”

“He said he went to the light beyond,” I said, because he seemed receptive to the information.

The man shook his head. “I’m sorry. You must be mistaken, because he doesn’t know English. He’s never spoken a word of English even when he could talk.”

“Maybe he’s been listening to us all,” the nurse offered, trying to explain away the mystery.

“I must call the temple, maybe the elders or the abbot will have an explanation. This doesn’t make sense.”

Or maybe it didn’t need to make sense. I tried again. “He was happy.”

“Thank you.” The man walked down the hallway shaking his head, pulling out his cell phone.

The nurse said to me, “Maybe he was a hidden yogi. In my homeland, this is what we say.”

When I reached Faye’s room, Rumi glanced at the clock. “Are you okay? You look shaky.”

No kidding. I felt off kilter. “We need to add hidden yogi and Buddhist death practices to our research.”

“What happened?”

“I was just informed there’s a way to go beyond the windows, to the Light itself. Are they keeping you comfortable?”

Faye smiled. “That sounds intriguing. Rumi’s awfully dressed up today. What are you wearing, Meridian?”

“A dress.” It didn’t seem right to be casual simply because the bride couldn’t see my clothes.

“You and Rumi have a date later?” She laughed into a cough.

“Maybe. Sure.” Rumi did look quite smashing in a white lace-up shirt and kilt. I noticed he had pulled the curtains so the view to all the preparations outside was blocked.

“I’d like to open the French doors for a little air,” Faye grouched.

Rumi shrugged his shoulders. “They’re not quite done with the landscaping, and you know how loud and obnoxious those leaf blowers are. We’ll open them as soon as we can, I promise.”

“This is nice,” I said, making small talk, too nervous about this surprise to say anything remotely intelligent.

Faye’s room had very little of a hospital feel to it and seemed more like a guest room in a not-so-fancy home. “Yes, this is as good a place to die as any.”

“You feel like doing a little more living before then?” I asked.

“What do you have in mind?” Her eyes brightened with a spark of curiosity.

I held up my shopping bag and shooed Rumi from the room.

Delia came in behind me with another nurse. “What’s going on?”

“Trust us?” I asked her.

“I do, child.”

We gently changed Faye into the fancy lace nightgown and robe. One nurse brushed her hair and styled it while
Delia and I covered her bed with a white tatted coverlet.

“I almost feel pretty.” Faye sighed as Delia dotted blush and coral lipstick on Faye’s astonished face.

“Are you warm enough?” I asked when I saw Tens crack the door. Our signal.

“Yes.”

The terrace’s transformation was as much of a surprise to me as it was to Faye as Tens swept open the doors.

Nurses crowded around behind us, wanting to glimpse this occasion.

Tens had packed the van at a local nursery with blooming rosebushes, dwarf lilacs, and hibiscus trees. Petunias draped from baskets and sparkling hummingbird feeders were tied from the rafters all along the lattice overhang. Honeysuckle and clematis twined along the privacy lattices on the sides.

“Oh my,” Faye sighed.

Dressed in a dapper three-piece suit with a deep maroon peony pinned to his lapel, Gus waited outside. His chin quavered, but he didn’t drop a single tear.

Custos wore a blinged-out top hat and Mini wore a matching bow tie over what was left of her bandages. Nelli placed the peony and lily bride’s bouquet next to Faye’s hand on the bed. Then she sprinkled rose petals and confetti across the coverlet.

Delia and I pushed the bed closer to the patio. Faye grabbed my hand, clinging with a grip of someone who spent a lifetime of promising tomorrows and missing todays.

I leaned down and whispered, “Live a little more. It’s okay.”

She kissed my cheek and reached toward Gus.

Flocks of goldfinches and cardinals gathered to witness and chatter.

The sky was a brilliant blue and white as if the heavens rolled out its best-dressed ensemble for the occasion. A warm breeze dispersed the marvelous scents of flowers and fluttered the petals.

I moved over by Tens and twined my fingers through his. “This is gorgeous.”

A delicate table held a beautiful and simple white frosted cake that I knew was deep velvety red on the inside. A pitcher of iced sweet tea sweated next to a pair of crystal champagne flutes.

Nelli snapped photographs as Tony cleared his throat. We knew Faye had little energy, so efficiency and timing were everything.

“The love of a husband and wife is transcendent. Gus and Faye, you built your love on a foundation of friendship and spent many years climbing the mountains of time, travails, and joys together. With Sunday brunches and midnight phone conversations, you wove your lives together into a rope. A rope to catch you when you slipped on the unexpected, to anchor you in safety and shelter. You held each other in those moments when alone you were too tired and empty to hold yourself. Your love as a couple spanned the canyons and crevasses of human failings. Today before God, before your family of friends,
we celebrate this bond and the promise you’ve made to each other.”

Beautiful. Honest and true.

At Tony’s signal, Tens stepped forward bearing a pillow that held both a silver ring and a silver bracelet. Faye’s fingers were too swollen and painful for a ring, but the bracelet could be adjusted and easily removed. The circle symbolism was the same.

Tens held the bracelet out to Gus, who took it gently.

Tony asked, “Gus, do you promise to love, to care for, comfort, and aid this woman, in this life and the next, until you meet again?”

Gus gazed into Faye’s eyes and said, “I do.” Then he slipped the bracelet around her wrist.

Tens stepped forward and gave Faye the ring. She held it in her fist.

“Faye, do you promise to love and hold precious this man, allowing him to comfort and aid you, in this life and the next, until you meet again?”

Her voice, stronger than it had been in several days, shouted, “I do!” She was able to place the ring on Gus’s finger without assistance. Happy tears tickled my lashes.

“By all that is good and light, and all that is love, I pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss your bride.” Tony smiled.

Gus bent down and placed the most tender kiss I’d ever witnessed on Faye’s lips.

I turned my head and surreptitiously wiped tears away
as the nurses and other families from the rooms around us clapped and congratulated the newlyweds.

Faye had a single bite of red velvet cake and declared it perfect before dozing off with a smile on her face.

Gus hugged me tightly and for far longer than I was used to. As quickly as we’d descended, we left. The flowers and plants would stay on Faye’s terrace for the duration.

That night, back in the cottage, Tens and I lay on our sides facing each other. The light from the streetlights outside breathed shadows and strange angles across Tens’s face.

We so rarely had time these days to just be together and enjoy each other. I grinned, going over the wedding in my mind. Perfect.

“We pulled it off,” I said.

“Yes, you did. I only did what you told me to.” He evaded credit as expected.

“You’ll have to plant all the stuff now.” We’d offered to plant all the flowering plants among the gardens and terraces at the hospice. It seemed only fair. As we left, I realized Juliet had made several larger versions of the cake for the nurses and the family goody room.
I don’t know why I’m surprised by the way she whips out complete confections in the amount of time most people read a recipe
.

He shrugged. “Did it make you …” He trailed off,
breaking eye contact. His fingers slid down my arm, from shoulder to fingers, making the little hairs zing and sending a delicious quake along my spine.

“What? Want a wedding?” I asked, thinking perhaps that’s where he was going.

He nodded.

“Someday.” I wondered how to articulate my feelings.
A future?
I never thought I’d have a future. “I’ve never been able to picture myself in a white dress, my father walking me down the aisle. Who would be my bridesmaids? Who would I invite?”
I’ve never had that kind of family, or friends, for that matter
. Never been the little girl who played pretend wedding. There hadn’t seemed any point to dreaming.

“Me.” He kissed my hand.

“Oh, well, I thought you’d be the groom, but if you really want to wear a puke-green satin ball gown covered in ruffles as my maid of honor, we can talk about that.”

We both laughed. What a picture.

I frowned. “It never seemed like my life. Like it was possible. Until you, I didn’t know anyone could love me.”
Maybe if my mother had allowed Auntie to raise me as requested, I wouldn’t be so surprised all the time
.

“But now that you have me?” There was a hitch in his voice that I wasn’t certain about.

I shrugged. “I don’t need the dress, or the cake, or the bouquet toss to make that real. You don’t want one, do you?”

Does he?
His expression grew thoughtful. “I think I
do. We’re special and I think I’d like to celebrate that with our friends watching. Not soon. Someday.”

Oh
. “I’m not against it. I never dreamed about it. You’ll tell me? When you’re ready?”

“Tell you what?”

“When you feel like it’s time for you? For us?”

“Probably before our seventh kid is born.”

“Seven? Kids? Now you’re freaking me out!” I yanked the pillow out from behind his head.

“Hey, I was using that!” He grabbed me as I reached for his ribs. “No fair. I’m tired!”

He pinned my hips with his and slid down me. I wondered if I’d ever grow tired of feeling his weight pressed against me. Of looking up into his eyes and seeing the best parts of myself reflected down at me.

He dipped his head and nibbled the edge of my mouth. “Hmm, frosting.”

“No! I … I washed my face,” I sputtered, until I realized he was laughing at me. “I guess you don’t want the extra piece I grabbed for you, then, huh?”

“Cake?” Tens perked up.

Always hungry
. “I’m not telling.”

“Here?” He licked and kissed behind my ear until I shivered. “How about here?” His lips drew down along my throat and found the rapid pulse.

I shifted my hips and felt him slip snugly against me.

His hands spread under my shirt and cupped my breasts, the calluses on his palms creating a pleasant friction.

I tugged my T-shirt over my head. His shorts rode low on his hips and his stomach rippled under my fingers.

“Here?” Tens dipped his head deeper, touching his mouth to my nipple. I arched against him as all thoughts fled my brain.

At my most vulnerable with him, I was home.

I
pleaded a headache and disappeared into my bedroom as quickly as I could after the wedding. Faye and Gus might be married for a week at best.
Until death do them part
. So little time. I shuddered. Did my parents have any time together?
Any? Would they have gotten married? Made us a family?

I heard Tony and Fara whispering in the living room, probably about me. I held the book of sonnets, practicing my reading. My mother’s scribbled notes in the margins were cryptic at best as I looked for anything that might
be what Ms. Asura wanted. As if she’d been afraid someone else might read them, as if she were protecting more than me.
My father? Her parents?

Back and forth, back and forth, I slid the medallion Nicole gave me across the chain on my neck.
Nicole is gone. And I need to let her go
.

My head hurt.

I waited. Even now, I waited for the feelings of uncertainty and fear to dissipate.

“Can I come in?” Fara knocked. “Please?”

“Sure.” I sat up and wiped at my face.

“Tony went out to get you frozen custard. He heard today’s flavor was grape.”

I tried to smile. He tried so hard and I didn’t know why he continued to bother.
All I do is make messes and problems for him
.

Fara stared at me without breaking eye contact. “Want some air? It’s awfully stuffy in here.” She abruptly turned to the window, and before I could ask her not to, she opened the curtains and threw the window open wide.

I gasped, terrified my room would smell like Ms. Asura again.
No, just food
. Cooking rice, garlic, and fried chicken were the only recognizable scents on the breeze. I sighed.