The Color of a Memory (The Color of Heaven Series) (9 page)

“Audrey,” he said, taking hold of my hand. “I lost my father when I was nine, and I remember how awful it was because I loved him a lot. I would never wish that on my children. I’ll want to be there for them every day, forever, and I want to be there for you, too. Family is everything to me and you need to believe that. You need to believe in
me
.”

All the muscles in my body turned warm. Laying my hand on his cheek, I said, “I do believe in you.”

He leaned closer and pressed his lips to mine. My legs turned to jelly, then he surprised me by getting down on one knee and pulling out a small white box.

Gazing up at me with steady, smiling eyes, he opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond solitaire ring. I gasped and covered my mouth with a hand.

“I love you,” he said, “and I want to marry you so that we can be a family, together forever. I promise I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I’ll be faithful, Audrey—
to
you and only you
—until the day I die.”

A tear slid down my cheek because in that shimmering moment on that beautiful white bridge in the park, I was so madly in love, I could barely see straight.

And I believed him. I believed him with every breath I took.

Fire

Chapter Twenty-one

After a month-long engagement, Alex and I were married in a private civil ceremony with only our closest friends and immediate family in attendance. This was followed by a larger outdoor party on the green lawn at his mother’s home.

Since it was an outdoor party, I wore a cocktail length cream-colored dress, and Alex wore a light summer suit. He invited all his pals from the department, including the chief, and I invited a number of my coworkers from the hospital. His parents sprung for a tent and hired a band. All this was planned in three short weeks, and on that night, we danced until 2:00 in the morning.

Alex and I—now husband and wife—drove off in the Buick with a uniformed chauffeur and a “Just Married” sign taped to the back window. We spent the night at the Hilton in Hartford, and the next morning, flew to Niagara Falls for a three-day honeymoon in a luxurious suite with a heart-shaped hot tub.

It was the most romantic experience of my life and I’ll remember it always, though it was to be short lived.

The following Wednesday morning, we were both back at work for morning shifts, and life in the real world resumed.

Chapter Twenty-two

The following spring, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl who came into the world at eight pounds, eleven ounces. She was the most exquisite creature I’d ever seen—with her father’s dark hair and compelling eyes. Her lips, nose and chin, however, definitely came from my side of the family.

Alex exceeded all my expectations as a husband and father. He changed diapers and was a great source of emotional support for me as I learned to breast-feed. At night when Wendy cried, he rose from bed to bring her to me without ever needing to be asked, and he rubbed my feet when I was tired. He also washed dishes and picked up groceries and doted on Wendy tirelessly with all the love a father could possibly give.

“You’re going to spoil her,” I said with a smile one evening as I joined him on the sofa where he was cradling our newborn in his arms.

“Probably,” he replied, gently placing her soother in her mouth. “But when she’s sixteen and the boys start coming around, I’ll be waiting in the shadows with my fire hose.”

I laughed. “The water pressure alone should send them down the stairs in a hurry. She won’t like it.”

Alex rubbed her sweet little head and spoke softly in front of her face. “Yes, you will, won’t you? Because you won’t have time for boys. You’ll be too busy with schoolwork and ballet classes.”

I chuckled again. “Ballet? What if she wants to play hockey?”

“That’ll be all right,” he replied. “She can be anything she wants to be.” Then his eyes lifted and he regarded me with adoration. “We made a good baby.”

“Yes, we certainly did.”

“Want to make another one?” he asked with a flirty smile.

I laughed again. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“I’m ready whenever you are, gorgeous. All you have to do is say the word.”

Inclining my head, I stood up and held out my hand. “That sounds like an offer I simply can’t refuse.”

* * *

Those were the happiest days of my life, when Alex and I were newlyweds. All my doubts and fears about his ability to be a good husband fell away, and I let myself fall. I loved him deeply and passionately with every inch of my soul, and had no regrets about rushing into this marriage.

At the time, I believed it was the best and bravest thing I’d ever done—to take that leap of faith and just
believe
.

* * *

Two months later I discovered I was pregnant again. I lost the baby, however, in a painful miscarriage that left me devastated—so much so, that my mother had to come and stay with us for two weeks to help take care of Wendy.

Alex was strong for the both of us, but I knew how disappointed he was, especially when we found out it was a boy.

“We’re young,” he said. “We’ll have another. We’ll have as many as we want.”

The doctor assured us there was no permanent damage from the miscarriage. He told me I’d be able to conceive again as soon as we were ready.

I couldn’t imagine ever being ready, though, because I was still so grief-stricken.

But I
tried
to imagine it. Every day I made a sincere effort, looked into my daughter’s eyes and strove to see the future.

It was impossible, of course. There were no crystal balls. All I could do was thank God for the present and cherish the blessings I already had.

Chapter Twenty-three

Not long after Wendy’s second birthday, I began to notice subtle differences in Alex’s behavior.

We’d been trying to have another baby for a while, but for some reason it hadn’t happened and I was beginning to feel anxious.
What if the doctor was wrong? What if something bad happened to me when I miscarried? What if he missed something?

Or maybe Alex and I were simply fated to have only one child. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case because we both wanted a big family. Three children at least. Maybe four or five if we had the energy.

But here we were…month after month…unable to conceive.

“Just give it time,” everyone said to me. “Don’t worry. It will happen when it’s meant to happen.”

But I wanted it to happen
now
. I was tired of waiting.

And I was worried about Alex.

* * *

Distracted.

That’s the word I would use to describe him in the weeks following Wendy’s second birthday.

I asked him if I had done or said something wrong, but he assured me everything was fine. Nevertheless I felt a distance between us I’d never felt before, and it made me feel empty and lonely inside.

I wondered if it was me. I hadn’t been myself since the miscarriage. I even began to wonder if I was depressed. Then I realized it had been ages since Alex and I had gone out on a proper date, laughed together, or made love. I certainly smiled less often—and of course being a mother to a busy two-year-old was exhausting. It had been a long time since I’d felt the least bit sexy.

I told myself this was normal for new parents. I also knew it wasn’t just me. Alex seemed exhausted too. One night he looked particularly pale, so I asked if he’d been to see a doctor lately.

He told me not to worry; he wasn’t sick. He was just busy at work.

I wouldn’t have worried at all if he hadn’t started coming home late most nights.

Whenever I asked what had kept him, he seemed caught off guard. Then he explained that he was taking an online course to upgrade his firefighter certification and didn’t want to bring his work home with him.

Naturally I gave him the benefit of the doubt because I didn’t want to be paranoid. I didn’t want to go back to the uncertainties I’d felt when we were dating.

Later I would realize it was a mistake to have done so. I should have pressured him to tell me the truth. It would have saved me a lot of grief later on.

Chapter Twenty-four

Sometimes it seems remarkable how certain moments of our lives stand out from all the others with striking clarity, and are burned into our memories forever.

Take, for instance, the collapse of the twin towers. Most of us remember exactly where we were when we learned of it.

Sometimes it’s a single moment from your childhood which is vivid and clear, while all the others fade into the blurred tapestry of our past.

There is one memory I have of my grandfather giving me a dime to go to the candy store down the street from where he and my grandmother lived. Whenever I recall the thrill of seeing that shiny coin drop into my small hand, it feels like something out of a dream. Other times it feels like it happened only yesterday. It had been more than a decade since we buried my grandfather. He was a kind and wonderful man.

The other memory that will never fade from my mind occurred on the day I received the life-changing phone call from David. I don’t know how I managed to survive it. I suppose it was Wendy who helped me get through it all. Because of her, I had no choice but to stay strong.

* * *

The ring tone made me jump.

I’d been wandering down the breakfast aisle in the grocery store when I fumbled to answer my cell phone. “Hello?”

“Hi Audrey? It’s Cathy. Are you watching the news?”

“No, I’m getting groceries,” I replied. “Why? What’s happening?”

I tossed a box of cereal into my cart and shifted the phone from one ear to the other. Wendy leaned over the side of the cart to reach for one of the sugary cereals in a colorful box, but I whispered, “Not that one,” and helped her sit up straight again.

“A bomb went off in an office building downtown,” Cathy explained.

I stopped in my tracks.

“All the Manchester engines are there,” she continued, “and they think it might be a terrorist attack. They’re not sure, though. It could also have been some idiot teenager.”

“Oh God,” I said. “Do you see Alex?”

“It’s impossible to make anyone out,” she replied. “All the firefighters are there in full gear, so he must be there. It looks really bad.”

Suddenly needing to hear Alex’s voice and know that he was okay, I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m going to hang up and call him on his cell,” I said. “He probably won’t answer, but I have to try.”

“Call me right back,” she said.

My stomach churned as I speed-dialed his number, but I was put through to voice mail.

“Hi Alex, it’s me. I heard about the bomb. Please call when you get a chance so I know you’re okay.”

I ended the call and took a few deep breaths, then hurried to the checkout and called Cathy back.

* * *

The rest of the day was its own version of hell. I tried to get downtown to the fire but all the streets had been closed off, so I drove to Cathy’s house to watch the footage on television. The explosion made national headlines and a reporter from CNN was on the scene.

I searched for Alex among the chaos, but it was impossible to recognize any individual firefighter because they all wore bulky coats, helmets and face masks. A number of them were operating hoses from the parking lot, and it was reported that some had gone inside the burning building to look for survivors.

Please, God, keep him safe
. I quietly prayed while Wendy toddled around Cathy’s living room, oblivious to what was happening on television.

I watched with bated breath as one of the reporters interviewed witnesses and spoke to a woman who worked in the building. She’d gone out for a brief walk in the fresh air during her break when the bomb went off.

“You must be living under a shining star,” the reporter said.

The woman burst into tears because there was still no word about her coworkers.

I, too, wanted to burst into tears, but I kept it together. “I wish he’d call me,” I said to Cathy.

“He will,” she replied. “I’m sure you’ll hear something soon.”

* * *

I was standing at Cathy’s kitchen island when my cell phone rang in the back pocket of my jeans.

The vibration caused me to jump and I scrambled to reach my phone. Checking the call display, I was disappointed to see that it wasn’t Alex. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

Just then the news correspondent on television appeared on screen to report that a floor had just collapsed in the building, and they weren’t sure yet if any firefighters had been in that location at the time.

“Hello?” I said.

“Audrey, is that you?”

I didn’t recognize the man’s voice. There was a lot of noise in the background. “Yes, it’s me,” I replied. “Who’s this?”