Chapter 46
It was a little after seven the next morning when Peter tiptoed out of the bedroom dressed only in his striped pajama pants. A few minutes in the bathroom, and then he was in the kitchen watching the tips of the mountains over Denver turn pink in the sunrise as he whisked a bowl of batter and shook a few drops of water onto the heating griddle.
He opened the refrigerator and nodded. Trust Sam to know Maddy. He pulled out a basket of fresh blueberries and emptied them into a bowl to rinse them in the sink as the mountaintops outside the window began to turn gold.
He stood over the skillet watching for bubbles to rise through the pancakes, but in his mind he was reliving the night before, a fluttering acceleration in his chest. He and Maddy were married. In their hearts, they had always been married. He wanted to call Madeline and cry with joy, he wanted to dial Jake’s number and try to shake him through the phone. Peter wanted to shout out to the universe that he and Maddy were together and would be forever.
He found himself laughing like a fool as he flipped the pancakes, crisp at the edges and buttery brown. This was his life now. He would be the most wonderful husband in the world to her, the best, all that Maddy deserved. Peter slipped the steaming blueberry pancakes onto a platter and set the table just as Maddy had shown him. He washed his hands and carefully wiped his face and chest. He smoothed his hair.
He paused in the bedroom doorway at the sight of Maddy’s body under the covers, her dark hair spread across the pillows, one hand curled by her cheek with a shadow on one finger, a glimmer that he knew was a small, new gold band.
“Maddy! Hey, sweetheart.” He crossed the floor softly on his bare feet, whispering her name so as not to startle her from her deep sleep. She was so beautiful. Peter sat at the edge of the bed and touched the little diamond heart where it lay on the pillow by the tiny mole on her neck. He leaned down to kiss the mole where the silver chain crossed it.
He paused and sat up. He touched the diamond again, and he touched her neck. “Maddy?”
She laid still, the curls of chocolate hair on her cheek around the grey temples; her eyes closed softly, almost a smile on her quiet lips.
He put a hand on her bare shoulder—cool and strange to the touch.
He shook her arm and called her name. “Maddy! Maddy!”
But Maddy lay peaceful and still and pale. Peter took her wrist between his fingers, although he already knew he would feel no pulse.
The lightness in his chest turned to a jolt of pain. He lifted Maddy, clutching her in his arms to his naked chest. “Maddy!” he cried, “Maddy, wake up!” He lowered her to the bed and pressed his ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat.
Nothing.
Peter covered his face with his hands, shaking his head, and cried out of the depths of his heart. “This can’t be. It can’t.” Sobs shook him as he bent over her, her lovely face tranquil and unmoving. He cried uncontrollably, completely lost in anguish, for a long time. He had known timelessness last night. Now he knew it again.
Eventually, he became calm enough to feel for her hand and then for her finger. The gold ring was in place.
Peter bent low and whispered into Maddy’s ear. “I do, my own love.” He could barely speak. “Forever and for always.”