The Old Beach House near San Terenzo, Italy, 2010.
The light in the familiar room faded as night closed in on the world, but Scott didn’t notice it. His eyes were fixed on her fragile figure that lay on the bed, covered by a thin, white blanket.
He leaned his face against his palms and drew a ragged breath.
“Don’t be sad, my love,” a barely audible whisper reached his ears. He looked at her pale face, into her beautiful eyes.
“This is not fair…I love you, Janet.” His heart ached with such enormous pain he was barely able to breathe.
“We had a lovely life together, Scott. Now you must go on and look after our children. You know I will wait for you.” She drew in a slight breath and closed her eyes.
“You know my view on that…” His voice broke as he sat on the edge of the bed and took hold of her hand. The touch of her cold skin tore into his soul. “I can’t live without you…”
She opened her eyes and looked deep into his. “I will love you, forever…” Her gaze glazed over as she took one last, light breath.
“Please, don’t leave me, Janet.” He lay next to her and broke into an agonized wail. “Please…” He embraced her lifeless body and cried, screamed at the empty walls of the house. “Don’t leave me! I love you!”
His heart shattered to pieces, his soul filled with intense grief. With shaky hands, he dried his tears and kissed her tenderly, closed her eyes for the last time, and lay her head to rest on the pillow.
“You just wait there for a moment, Janet. I’ll be ready in a minute. I only have to finish the letter, and then we can go.”
He stumbled to the desk, his eyes raw with tears, but with a fervent fire of determination now burning in his soul. He would not let her leave, not without him.
He reached for a pen and wrote the final words on a letter that already was more than five pages long, sealed it in an envelope, and left it on the table.
He turned and faced her, with a smile. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s go.”
* * * *
The early morning light colored the eastern horizon pale yellow as he parked the car next to a small aircraft. The private airfield was empty, not a soul in sight.
He carefully lifted her fragile body from the vehicle and carried her over to the plane, placed her on the right hand seat, and fastened her seat belt.
“I know, I know, but I couldn’t tell you. I bought it a couple of weeks ago. It’s an old and worn plane, has served its purpose. Besides, I couldn’t take the Piper. Gemma would never forgive me if I did something to her favorite aircraft. Are you comfortable?”
“Yes, my love. But how about you think this over?”
He lifted his hand in a defensive posture and averted his eyes from her white face. “No! Don’t even think about talking me out of this. I won’t listen!”
He strolled around the aircraft with angry strides, removed the wheel blocks, and walked back to the car. He took two large canisters out, carried them to the plane, opened the small cargo hold, and placed the two fuel containers inside.
Then he strolled to the left hand side of the plane, his pace now slowing. He came to a halt by the entrance to the cockpit door and looked at her lifeless figure on the front seat. She seemed to glow in the early morning light.
“Scott, please don’t do this. I love you so much. I don’t want this for you.”
The blazing pain that hit his heart made his legs waver. The agony of losing her like this, to a nasty, devilish disease that devoured her beautiful body and soul in less than four weeks, fired both intense anger and bottomless despair at the same time. He growled and screamed at the sky, making the cold hangars repeat his desperate howl. “I can’t live without you! You can’t ask me to do that!”
He collapsed against the wing support of the plane and pleaded quietly, “Please. I love you. I want to be with you, please…”
He felt a soft touch on his cheek and raised his eyes to the sky.
“Alright, my love. If that’s what you want, then come with me.”
“Yeah,” he sobbed and scrambled to his feet, then climbed on the left hand seat of the plane and closed the door. “Yeah, this is what I want.”
* * * *
Los Angeles, 2010
The cheerful jingle of her mobile phone interrupted her from deep thoughts. The plans for a photo shoot were scattered across her wide table in an organized chaos.
“Oh, bugger,” Joann muttered and picked up the phone, annoyed to be disturbed. “Ah, Gemma.” Her mood changed instantly. She hadn’t heard from her sister for two weeks. It’d be nice to exchange a few words with her.
“Hi ya, lil’ sis! How are you?” Joann said cheerfully, but almost immediately knew something was wrong. All she heard on the line was a forlorn sob, followed by a tense silence that told her Gemma was crying.
“What's wrong, Gemma?” Fear gripped her soul. What if something had happened to Gemma’s children, to her husband? “Please, Gemma, calm down and tell me.”
“It’s Mom and Dad…” A hollering wail filled the mobile phone receiver.
Joann’s heart froze in terror. Fear crept into her voice. “What about Mom and Dad?”
“They’re dead!” Gemma sounded like she was choking at the other end.
Joann sat down. Cold shock blocked her airways, but she forced herself to continue. “How?”
Sobs filled the line, then a brief silence. “A plane crash…I got a call from Luke less than ten minutes ago. The police called him…”
“Are they sure it was Mom and Dad?”
“Yes…They found a note on his car. It had details of their flight path, but I didn’t really get what Luke was saying because he was so upset as well. He mentioned Dad had bought an old Skyhawk a few weeks ago, and that Mom and he went flying with it early this morning. Don’t ask me why, I mean, they have the Piper, Joann. Why would he buy an old wreck like that? I don’t understand this at all. And James, oh, my God. How are we going to reach him? He’s in New Zealand. Backpacking outdoors, in the wilderness… How, Joann?” Gemma took a deep, ragged breath.
Intense grief mixed with confused thoughts swirled in Joann’s head. What happened? Why would her father, her parents, do something so strange? She mustered all her courage, swallowed her tears and said, “I’m coming over to your place, Gemma. We have to make arrangements. We have to reach James somehow, and we have to go to Italy.”
* * * *
Italy, 2010
Joann unlocked the door to the familiar old building. The air inside was a lot cooler, and as it flowed out, she briefly felt like death itself had touched her face. A shiver ran down her spine, but she pushed the unpleasant thought aside. The house had always been a place filled with love, not with death.
Memories of happy times flowed into her heart, and she smiled sadly. This would probably be Gemma’s and her last visit to the house. James, their younger brother, was still on his way from his holiday. Joann felt tears in her throat when she remembered the long distance call that finally caught him at the hotel. The only consolation was that his wife was traveling with him, so he didn’t have to face the news alone. Yet he’d broken into tears on the phone.
Gemma followed close behind, and strolled to open the kitchen curtains to let the light in. The soft sheen of the afternoon sun warmed the white walls and gave an impression of love flowing into the house.
They shared a look and smiled, both close to tears.
Joann cleared her throat and said, “Maybe we should check the rest of the rooms.”
“Okay. I'll go upstairs.”
Joann sauntered toward the atelier downstairs. She came to the entrance and noticed the bedroom door open. She crossed the wide room and entered the smaller bedroom.
The bed cover was missing, the sheets left undone. She frowned, confused. Mom always made a point of making the bed before leaving the house. Her gaze inspected the room. It was quite untidy, which was also odd. Here and there clothes, books, even paintbrushes were strewn across the floor.
Nothing made any sense to her anymore. What had happened? As she turned to leave, her eyes fell on two large envelopes that were neatly laid on the table. She closed in on them, and picked them up.
On one was written: To my beautiful daughters, Joann and Gemma, and to my handsome son, James. Love, Mom, and on the other one: To Gemma, James and Joann. I will love you, always. Dad.
Instant tears welled up as her breath caught. She swallowed hard and walked out of the bedroom carrying the two letters.
“Gemma,” she shouted at the foot of the stairs, her voice choked with emotion. “I found something.”
Gemma appeared and rushed down the steps. She took hold of the envelopes, then looked at Joann. “I’m too scared to read these, Joann.” Her hands shook.
“Come, let’s go and sit down. I will read them.”
* * * *
San Terenzo, 14th of April, 2010.
Joann, Gemma and James, my beautiful children.
I write this final note to you to tell you not to worry. Your mother and I are together now, exactly as I planned.
Just over three weeks ago, we found out that your mother was terminally ill. She’d not been feeling well for a month or so, and when she finally agreed to go to the doctors, they told us there was nothing they could do anymore. The pancreatic cancer had spread, and she was given two to three months to live.
The time she had left turned out to be a lot shorter, but at least we had our chance to say goodbye. Not that I really believe in final goodbyes. It was only this life that ended for both of us.
She didn’t want to tell you because she felt that it would have been too hard on you to watch her die. I wanted to call you all, but your mother didn’t let me. She wanted you to remember her as she was, before her illness. I respected her wish, although I know how much her decision will hurt you all. Please forgive her, she was only thinking of what’s best for you. She wrote you a long letter. Please read it. It explains it all. She loved you all so much.
I bought an old Skyhawk and rigged it with explosives because I wanted to make sure I could leave with your mother. Besides, it’s against a pilot’s nature to fly into a mountain—I wasn’t sure I could’ve done it. Pressing a button is so much easier.
You won’t find many traces of us, or the plane, so don’t waste time searching. You’ll find the exact coordinates at the end of this letter so that you will have a place to remember your mother if you want to. It’s on a remote mountainside in the north, I’m sure you will find it.
I hope that you will all forgive me my decision to leave with your mother. Please understand that she is my life, and I have no future without her.
I love you all so much, but I can’t stay. I have to go with her.
Love you always, Dad.
* * * *
Gemma sat, huddled under Joann’s arm, and wiped her eyes with a tissue. “How could he do that? Kill himself by detonating the plane over the Alps?”
“He always said that Mom loved the mountains…I don’t know, Gemma, I just don’t know…”
“I wish Mom had told us, Joann. If she had, maybe we could have helped Dad.” She drew in a ragged breath. “Poor Dad. It must have broken his heart to pieces to watch her die. And to face that all alone…and I want to say goodbye to Mom.” She sobbed again.
“I know, Gemma, so do I. But you know how Mom was, never wanting us to worry about anything, never wanting us to get hurt. I wish she had told us as well, but there’s nothing we can do anymore. If she had told us, maybe we could’ve helped Dad, but it’s too late now.”
Joann gazed out to the green yard, then, almost as if she had heard his voice tell her, she continued, thoughtfully, “Or, no, Gemma. I don’t think there’s anything we could have done. Dad loved Mom more than he loved life – she was his life. If we’d been here, he would have just withered away, I know that. There was nothing we could have done, no way to convince him to live anymore.”
“He loved Mom more than us.”
Joann smoothed her hand over her younger sister's arm, lovingly. “Yes, I think he did.” Then she smiled. “But you know what, Gemma? He also loved us with all his heart. It was his soul that belonged to mother only. I think I’m alright with that.”
Gemma sniffed and sat up, with a tearful smile. “Yes, I’m fine with that also, Joann. I only hope they will be able to be together now, forever.”
“I’m absolutely sure they will.”
* * * *
As I stand on this alpine meadow and watch my older sister Joann weep, hold on to her husband and clutch her two sons in her arms, and my brother stand, his back stiff and eyes filled with sadness, my heart aches with sorrow. Why did it have to end this way?
But then, from the depths of my memory I hear a sound – my mother’s laughter. I see her spread her arms in the air and dance on the lawn of the Old Beach House. The wistful melody of Moon River begins to flow from the record player that stands on the green grass. Her eyes sparkle in the soft evening sunshine as my father reaches for her and pulls her closer. He smiles as well as they slowly embrace each other and merge into a tender kiss.
They become one, melting into each other’s arms.
I remember the long, hot summers from my childhood, I remember the love I received from my parents. My first bike ride, my first day at school, my first boyfriend.
My first flying lesson with Dad. And the pride in his eyes after my first solo flight.
The fiercely protective look on my father’s face when he met my future husband, mellowed by my mother’s smile and her magic touch on his arm. They later became really good friends, my husband and my father.
I remember the joy and pride in my parents' eyes when they met my newborn son.
I remember a beautiful life.
Tears flow down my cheeks as I raise my gaze. My mother and father appear to me, two shining spirits against the dazzling azure. Their faces are filled with peaceful, eternal love for each other—and for us.
As I stand under the clear blue Italian sky, my heart fills with unexpected joy. I smile, raise my hand and bid them farewell.
I love you as well.