17

Sunbeams woke Annabelle at dawn. She found a poem on the pillow next to her, on the new bed.

Asking

I looked for you
deep in August water
where peace abounded
amid stormy white caps

I looked for you
in reading class
when they decided I couldn’t read
and forced my eyes
with a machine
to move them very fast

when all I really wanted
was to hold your warm breast.

I looked for you
in the woods
which smelt of leaves
bark and rock
wet with time

but you were not there.

Your path was deep
In Maya time
in a dream so dark
its remembering made you bleed

deep but waking to the thought
of your own wild perfection.

She crept down the unfamiliar staircase and found Eddie sitting cross-legged in meditation on the living-room floor.

“Thank you for the poem,” she whispered.

She stumbled around the new kitchen, preparing tea and cold cereal.

“How’s the baby today?” asked Eddie, joining her at the kitchen counter.

She sighed. “Did we really do that?”

He nodded. “It’s for real.”

They packed the car while the sun rose. Annabelle had written her letter to advise Dennis of the marriage.

“I’ll mail it in Vermont,” she said, “that way he’ll get it on Monday. He doesn’t need to know before then.”

Sarah wanted to eat the candy Eddie had brought but Annabelle told her to wait until after lunch. They sang Christmas carols. After stopping for fast food midway up Route 93, Sarah fell asleep. They drove through the silent notch, surrounded by intense foliage.

“It’s good we left in the morning,” said Eddie, “we’re missing a lot of traffic; this will be the peak leaf-peeping weekend.”

Annabelle remained silent.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“How am I ever going to face everyone at MVI again, after that scene we had? They’re going to think we are both completely crazy.”

“No,” said Eddie shaking his head, “we cleaned everything up. And we’re taking off next week to move into the house. By the time we get back, it will be old news. And I’m sure they’re all laughing about it right now. Most people have a good row just before they get married.”

“Maybe. But I’m still worried.”

“Yesterday you woke up worrying about the house closing. Now that that’s over with you have time to worry about your colleague’s opinions of you? Why not worry about our wedding tomorrow?”

“No, it’s not all that,” sighed Annabelle. “I’m mostly worrying about what Dennis will do when he gets the letter. He probably will start acting out again.”

“But this time you have me to protect you.”

Annabelle sighed again.

“It really doesn’t matter what he does,” said Eddie, “you’re not responsible for him.”

“I know. I can’t help it. I’m just worried. And I’m still upset about Danny. He’ll probably always resent me. That makes me sad. I’m sad for him too.”

“Let Danny be Danny. You’re not responsible for his feelings either. Someday he’ll understand why I left his mother. Someday he’ll leave her too. Just give it time.”

“Well, it’s just hard knowing that Dennis might go nuts and Danny will always hate me.”

Eddie paused. “Do you realize that now we own a house together? Do you realize that tomorrow at this time we’ll be married? You have a healthy, beautiful daughter. You’re a healthy, beautiful woman and you’re marrying a man who adores you. And after what we did last night, you might even be pregnant right now, and one of your biggest wishes is to have another baby! Isn’t that enough?”

Annabelle smiled. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You know that I worry.”

“When will it be enough? When will you have enough?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “don’t you ever worry?”

“No, but I think I know why you do, I know what your problem is. No one ever gave you permission to be happy.”

Annabelle looked at him.

“You have my permission,” he said.

She leant back, gazing out the window. The mountains were rolling jewels ablaze in the sun, bodies of pregnant women peacefully sleeping, nipple peaks, amber thighs, soft and brazen faces staring at the sky.

She had everything she’d ever wanted and no more excuses.

Eddie broke her reverie, saying, “Dennis might go crazy, that’s true. That’s possible. He might even have found out about the wedding and he might come up to Vermont and try to ruin it, he might cause a scene! Danny might resent you forever. And up a few miles ahead of us, we could get in a terrible car accident and we could all die. Or next week we could discover that I have incurable cancer. The world might even blow up tonight. So… I don’t think we should worry about any of it. Look at all the special things. Look at all you have. It doesn’t get any better than this. All you have to do in order to be happy is just decide to be happy, that’s all you have to do.”

“It really isn’t that simple,” she said.

She looked at Eddie. He was smiling and nodding. “I know,” he whispered.

The car suddenly lurched and swerved along the highway. Eddie skidded and pulled over.

“I don’t believe this,” he moaned, “we blew a frigging tyre!”

He jumped out and began pushing aside luggage, searching for the buried jack. Annabelle got out of the car and stood beside him while he slipped the jack under the car and pumped.

Sarah was still sleeping peacefully.

Annabelle sighed, watching Eddie’s large hands patiently persevere.

Then she closed her eyes in the bright sunlight. The mountain images lingered, like photograph negatives, impressed before her.

In the crisp autumn air, in the slow passage of time, she began breathing deeply, imagining life without fear; imagining joy.

Leda Joandaughter is a novelist and poet whose work has been published in the USA, Iceland, and Greece. She has worked as a professional writer in the computer industry, and for humanitarian and educational organizations. A mother of three, she currently lives in Western Massachusetts with her husband and two younger daughters.