The Color of a Memory (The Color of Heaven Series) (18 page)

BOOK: The Color of a Memory (The Color of Heaven Series)
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I gestured toward my car where Wendy was waiting patiently. “I have my daughter. We were just going to visit Jean and Garry, but I could ask if they’d mind watching her for a bit. Then we could take my car,” I said to Nadia.

“That sounds perfect,” she replied. “I’ll wait for you here.”

Quickly I went to get Wendy out of her booster seat, and felt incredibly exhilarated. I wasn’t sure what was causing such euphoria, though I did hope there would be some answers today.

Answers to what questions, I wasn’t sure, because this woman had never actually met my husband. How could she know anything?

 

Chapter Forty-three

 

Since I was driving—and Nadia had already enjoyed a few glasses of wine that afternoon—we opted for a nearby coffee shop.

After we sat down with our coffees, I asked her all sorts of questions about how she ended up needing a heart transplant in the first place. She told me about her illness, which resulted in a very high-risk pregnancy and delivery, and for a few brief moments it helped me forget about my husband’s infidelity—because he had not only saved this woman’s life, he’d also saved a newborn baby from becoming motherless. For that, I was proud.

Nadia had questions for me as well. She wanted to know how Alex and I had met, and I told her about all the good times, willing myself not to bring up any of my doubts or suspicions about his affair.
Just keep smiling
.
She doesn’t need to know
.

Then I don’t know what came over me. My voice broke and I had to stop. I couldn’t speak and I was afraid I might break down.

Dropping my gaze to my lap, I fought to regain control.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I know this must be difficult.”

I nodded, then found myself unable to put on a brave face and lie to this woman. I’d felt a strong connection to her from the beginning—since the first time I met her in the playground, though I didn’t understand why at the time. I still wasn’t quite sure why I felt so at ease with her now, other than the fact that I knew she had my husband’s heart.

Was that the reason? Was there something profound going on here? Or was she simply a person I would have been friends with, regardless?

Either way, I wanted her to know the truth today. I didn’t want to be false.

Then she surprised me by asking…very gently, “Who did you think I was when you first approached me today? You called me Carla and you seemed upset.”

My eyes lifted. Either Nadia was naturally intuitive or somehow Alex’s heart was giving her extraordinary insight into my soul.

“I was,” I replied. “I’ve been upset all week because something happened. It’s why I didn’t want to meet the recipient of my husband’s heart.”

She leaned forward over the table, her expression laced with sympathy.

“I found something in Alex’s car,” I explained.

“The Buick in his parents’ garage?” she asked.

I nodded. “It was a picture of a baby, taken during an ultrasound. There was a note on the back dated a week before he died and it said, ‘For Alex, I hope she has your good looks. Love Carla.’ There was a little heart drawn in the corner.”

Nadia’s eyebrows pulled together with dismay. “So you think he was having an affair?”

Again, I nodded my head. “Two weeks before he died, he started acting differently. He was distracted and didn’t come home at the normal times.” I paused and gazed toward the windows. “It’s driving me crazy—not knowing—and I haven’t been able to tell Jean. It would break her heart to know her son was cheating, but I also think that if she has a grandchild out there somewhere, she’d want to know.”

Nadia sat back in her chair. “God, I’m so sorry.”

I returned my gaze to meet hers. “I’ve been really angry with him this week—and that’s the real reason I didn’t want to meet you today. I was afraid I might be tempted to throw a vase at you or something, because you have his heart. It’s stupid, I know.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “It’s not stupid. I’d probably feel the same way if I found out something like that about Jesse.”

I sighed heavily, then an image popped into my mind. “Gosh, I just remembered the dream I had last night. I was riding in the back seat of the Buick, and you were sitting in the front with Alex. I thought you were Carla because I remembered having met you last year and you were so curious about him. The two of you were laughing and joking, but I couldn’t make out anything you were saying. I felt like I was intruding on your relationship, but now that I’ve met you, I can sort of understand why I had that dream—because the two of you do share something. The same heart.”

“Wow,” Nadia said, sitting back. “I’ve had a lot of strange dreams myself since the surgery. I was telling Jean about it today. That’s how I figured out who Alex was, and how I found you in the playground last year. I knew his name even before the Donor Network connected me with Jean.”

This fascinated me, and I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. “What kind of dreams have you had?” I asked.

She gave me a sheepish look. “I feel funny talking about it because it sounds so New Agey, but I’ve dreamed that I’m flying, sometimes over the transplant center, and once, a man flew beside me and he told me his name was Alex. I was really sick at the time, falling in and out of consciousness. I can’t explain what it all means, but I like to think that he followed me in the ambulance to make sure I was okay.” Nadia paused and chuckled softly. “Maybe somehow he felt his old heart racing out of control, because I was pretty scared.”

I looked down at my coffee and confided, “I’ve had a lot of dreams of Alex, but he’s always out of reach, sometimes with his back to me. I can never talk to him. Last night in the dream, there was a glass window between the front seat and the back. I’ve never had a sense that he was coming to check on me directly. It’s the opposite—more that I’m trying to reach
him
, but I can’t.” I felt a little jealous that he might be checking on Nadia, but not Wendy and me.

Was he checking on Carla and her child?

Nadia waved a dismissive hand. “They’re just dreams,” she said as if she recognized my anguish. “And are you really sure he was having an affair? Do you know who this Carla person is, or
where
she is? If you could talk to her and find out the truth, it might help you deal with it.”

I hooked my fingers through the handle of my coffee mug and raised it to my lips. “That’s the problem. I don’t know her last name and we have no contact information.”

“Who’s
we
?” Nadia asked.

“My friend David,” I replied. “Actually, he was Alex’s best friend. I’m sure he’d like to meet you sometime, if you’d be willing.”

“Of course I would be,” she said with enthusiasm. Then she stared at me for a long moment, as if thinking carefully about something. “And I might be able to help you with your other problem. Do you really want to find this woman?”

I felt a great rush of anticipation. “Yes, definitely.”

Nadia reached for her giant purse on the floor at her feet, plopped it on her lap and dug into it. After retrieving a pen and a small notepad, she pushed her coffee mug aside.

“I have a twin sister and she’s a lawyer in Boston. She specializes in family law and uses private investigators all the time to catch cheating spouses, locate deadbeat dads…you name it. She might be able to find this Carla person. Do you know if she lives in Connecticut?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied, “but we found an email from her where she used the name ‘Vintage Car Chick.’ The email account is no longer active, but it might be a starting point.”

“That’s helpful,” Nadia said, writing it down. “So tell me everything you know about her and I can pass it on to Diana. I’ll give you my email address and can you forward me that email when you get home?”

“Of course,” I replied with a swell of elation, feeling amazed and grateful that fate had intervened and caused my path to intersect with the recipient of my late husband’s heart.

Maybe that’s where Alex was hiding all his secrets.

 

Chapter Forty-four

 

When I arrived home that night, the first thing I did after putting Wendy to bed was call David. The instant he picked up the phone and said hello, I told him that I’d met the recipient of Alex’s heart that day.

“Don’t say anything more,” he quickly replied. “I’m coming right over.”

I felt slightly breathless as I hung up. Then I dashed around the apartment, picking up clutter and loading dirty dishes into the dishwasher. Next I brushed my teeth, combed my hair and put on a little makeup.

I couldn’t wait to see him and tell him everything that happened that day.

* * *

After a week of insecurity and emotional torment, I felt positively euphoric when David walked through the door. I rose up on my tip toes, threw my arms around his neck and hugged him.

I couldn’t see his face but I could hear the laughter in his voice as he squeezed me in return. His arms were snug around my waist. “What’s this for?”

“It was a great day,” I replied, taking a step back to meet his sparkling blue-eyed gaze.

Tonight he wore loose-fitting jeans and a white cotton T-shirt. His golden hair was wavy and tousled. After such a satisfying, body-hugging embrace, I couldn’t help but take in the attractive spectacle of his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

What is happening here?

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied, then peered down the hall. “Is Wendy asleep?”

“Yeah, she’s out like a light. Come on in and I’ll tell you everything.”

Sweeping aside my awareness of his attractive masculinity—because my emotions were far too complicated right now and I didn’t want to spoil what we had—I led him into the living room where we plunked ourselves down on the sofa.

I began with how I drove over to Jean’s, pulled up behind Nadia, recognized her from the playground a year ago and thought she was Carla, Vintage Car Chick.

“That’s unbelievable,” David said after I told him that she was, in fact, someone else entirely.

His eyes glimmered with fascination, and I knew he shared my excitement over learning that the woman from the park wasn’t a home-wrecking stalker. She was the person who had received Alex’s heart.

It had been a long time since I’d felt so inspired talking to someone—except of course for Nadia, earlier that day—and I knew part of it stemmed from the fact that David loved Alex, too, and the idea of meeting the person who’d received his heart was both astounding and thrilling for both of us. Alex was gone, yet a part of him still lived and thrived in the world. I knew this meant as much to David as it did to me.

“I
would
like to meet her,” he said, his gaze direct and intense. “When will you see her again?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I replied. Then I explained how she offered to try and help us locate Carla. “I have to send Nadia an email tonight and forward the message Carla sent to Alex. I can arrange a meeting with her, if you want. She has a daughter which would be fun for Wendy because they could play together.”

David waved a hand through the air. “Wait a second. I’m confused. I don’t know much about science, but when did Nadia give birth to her daughter? Is it possible the kids share some DNA?”

I shook my head. “No. Ellen was delivered by C-section before Nadia had the transplant, so there’s no connection there. But they liked each other when they met in the playground last year, and as a parent of an only child, I always want to help her make friends. Nadia’s daughter is an only child, too, so Nadia feels the same way.”

He nodded. “I get that. If you want to invite them over here, I could help you cook.”

My whole face lit up and I smiled. “Okay.”

David was quick to ask more questions. “So tell me more about her sister, the lawyer. She’s her twin? How is she going to help us?”

I explained that Diana specialized in family law and she knew several of the best private investigators.

“I hope she can help us find some answers,” David said.

“Me, too,” I replied, happily aware of the fact that he had used the word “us” twice.

 

Chapter Forty-five

 

Together, David and I found the email from Vintage Car Chick and forwarded it to Nadia, then we invited her, Jesse and Ellen to come for dinner the following weekend.

Nadia replied five minutes later to inform me that she had already spoken to her sister on the phone and Diana was eager to roll up her sleeves and get to work. Rather than accept our invitation to dinner, however, Nadia countered with the suggestion that we come to her home in Waltham for a barbeque to meet Diana and her husband Jacob—a cardiac surgeon who worked at Boston Mass, and incidentally had treated Nadia before her transplant. Nadia also mentioned that they had just installed a nifty play structure in the yard for Ellen, and they were keen to put it to good use.

David and I accepted her invitation and couldn’t wait to see where she lived. She had described her “blue house on the water” with great passion and affection.

I wanted to see it, because it was the place where a part of Alex now lived.

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