The Heavenly Heart (23 page)

Why do you want to meet
me
?” he asks, and scratches his head.

“It’s kind of a long story,” I answer.

“Take your time,” he says. “I understand we have forever.”

He’s
adorakable
!

“I see you’ve met Pete,” I say.

“Ah, yes, Pete—quite a guy.”

Did he show you your Golden Window?”

“Oh yes, and the Steps to the Hereafter and The Window of Dreams—I got the grand tour.”

I can’t think of anything to say, so I stand here looking stupid. Boys always make me nervous, especially ones I like. Thankfully Carla picks this very moment to come bouncing up.

“Hi!” she says, and for the first time I notice how much she looks like Amy Jo! It’s strange that I never realized this before, but maybe it’s because Carla is so nice and Amy Jo makes me sick.

“This is Garrett,” I say, before realizing I should be introducing Carla to him first. It’s the proper way. Garrett doesn’t notice. He takes one look at Carla and I can read his face like it’s a trailer for a major motion picture. It says,
I’m absolutely, nuts about this girl. I will never ever look at anyone else as long as I live.

So I’m losing Garrett before I even get a chance with him. I didn’t think we had to worry about stuff like that up here. I leave the two of them alone and go to find my father.

*        *        *

My father’s on the Step of Attrition. Behind the door is a lake larger than the ocean and clearer than glass. The sun’s shining brighter than a star and the water beneath it’s more inviting than a bubble bath in winter.

I don’t want to startle him so I call out to let him know I’m close by.

“Hello, Daddy.”

He swings around full circle and smiles. He’s as handsome as ever. A lump forms in my throat. I want to be so mad at him, but when I see him it’s a hard feeling to hang on to. All I want to do is hug him.

“Lorelei,” he says, looking very happy to see me. “Let’s go up together.”

He reaches for my hand and motions to the gold and purple mist above. “There are only two more steps,” he says, pointing to the Step of Devotion, and the Step of Discovery, which is the point of no return. “We’re almost there.”

I don’t want to go yet,” I say. “I’m not ready.”

“We can wait awhile,” he says. “No hurry; let’s take a swim first. I’ll race you.”

We used to do that when I was little and he always gave me a big head start. The lump in my throat grows larger. I rub at the front of my neck, hoping the hurt will go away.

“Actually I—I—I came to talk to you about—about—”

“What is it Lorelei? You can tell me.”

He holds out his arms to me. I fall into them and hug him tight. “Oh Daddy,” I say, “I know all about you and Kirsten and her leaving Jeffery and you leaving her and—” My tears turn quickly into sobs. “Why, Daddy? Why did you do that?”

“Sssshhh, ssshhhh,” he croons, and pats my back like I’m a little kid with a boo-boo.

“I mean it, Daddy. Why did you do that?”

I plop down on the bank next to the lake and dip my feet into the cool water. My father rolls the cuffs of his pants up and joins me. I drag my feet slowly back and forth and make circles in the water. My father watches my every movement, but doesn’t speak. I turn and look at him, brushing the tears from my eyes.

“I hurt a lot of people, Lorelei,” he says, “but I didn’t know one of them was you.”

I sniff, realizing I don’t have a hanky handy. My father reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a familiar starched white one. It has his initials in gold, just like always. He was never without one on earth.

“Lorelei,” he says, and takes hold of my hand. “I was selfish. I wasn’t worried about hurting other people. I was only interested in satisfying my own desires. I was wrong. I shouldn’t even be here—”

“Oh, don’t say that, Daddy,” I say. “Pete says we don’t have to earn our way here. We just have to want very bad to be here—to choose to be here.”

My father chuckles. “That’s good,” he says. “I was thinking maybe my being here was a mistake. I’ve been anxious to get up there, just in case.” My father nods at the mist above us.

Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I was wondering why you were in such a hurry. I’ve been here forever and hardly go near the steps if I can help it.”

My father puts his arm around my shoulder and draws me close. “I’m sorry, Lorelei,” he says. “For everything—I hope you can forgive me.”

“What about Kirsten? Her life is ruined.”

“No, no,” my father insists. “She may think so for awhile, but not forever. Kirsten is a beautiful and vibrant—”

“And intelligent, don’t forget that,” I point out.

“Precisely.” My father nods. “Far too intelligent to think that she will only love once. Another man will come along. A young man, a healthy man; the kind of man she deserves. Not an old geezer like me with a bad heart, and bad morals—”

“Oh Daddy,” I say, “I love you so much. And it hurt me so bad to see what you were—were doing—”

“Sssshhhh,” my father says. “That’s all over now. Will you forgive me?”

He takes his handkerchief from my hand and dabs at the rest of my tears. “Will you?”

I nod my head. “Of course, I will,” I say. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him tight. “This is Heaven, Daddy. Everything’s forgiven here.”

SEVENTY-THREE

The Window of Dreams

I’m in the Window of Dreams pretending that Garrett is madly in love with me and we’re planning our wedding. It’s fashioned after the very wedding Kirsten would have had with Jeffery in the Pirate ship in the Savannah Harbor if she’d stayed with him. My mother’s radiant as the mother-of-the-bride. Her blonde hair’s swept back in her classic chignon and she’s wearing a blue silk Vera Wang ensemble with a matching jacket with crystal beads. My father’s dashing in his tuxedo and completely in love with my mother. This I do not have to make up. My father was really broken up when my mother told him she intended to file for divorce and marry Mr. Warren. But in my dreams they’re back together and very happy.

Johan Pachelbel’s Canon in D’s playing softly in the background as our guests make their way to their seats, which are these special chairs installed on the aft deck. Once the guests are seated and the concerto’s finished, a trumpet announces that the wedding procession’s to begin. My father holds out his arm to me and we stroll slowly down the deck towards the plank, where Pete’s waiting to perform the ceremony.

Garrett and I’ve decided not to use Wagner’s Bridal Chorus from Lohengrin for our wedding procession because
Here Comes the Bride
just doesn’t cut it. We’ve decided on Vivaldi’s Guitar Concert in D Major, which is soft and romantic and makes my mother and all the other ladies cry. It’s awesome music.

I’m wearing the same wedding dress Kirsten picked out for her wedding. It’s perfect for a pirate wedding. It’s got the satin bodice and the princess skirt that’s gathered with row after row of beads and it has the train with a hook so it can be made into a bustle for dancing. I don’t much care for the fingertip veil, so I pick out a floor length one with a headband that has all these pearls sewn on it. It holds the veil in place and looks really good on me.

Carla’s my maid-of-honor. Here in the Window of Dreams, Garrett only likes her as a friend, so it’s not a problem. I love this window. I can have exactly what I want.

My father and I arrive at the plank, which is the alter, remember?

“Who gives the women in marriage?” Pete asks.

“I do,” my father says, and puts my arm on Garrett’s. The grin on his face is as wide as Texas.

The ceremony begins. We’re just about to exchange rings when Carla yells, “Lorelei, come quick!”

I mean for
real
, Carla’s yelling, not the Carla standing next to me playing my maid-of honor.

“Everyone’s leaving!” she says.

“Who’s leaving?” I say. My wedding guests and groom are gone in a blink.

“Garrett, your father, Miss Lily—” Carla says, out of breath. “They’re having a big party on the Step of Devotion and they’re going to the Step of Discovery to go up together.”

“Can they do that?”

“Who’s going to stop them?” Carla says, with her hands on her hips. “You better get up there fast if you want to say goodbye.”

*        *        *

“Come with us,” my father says.

“Yes dear, please join us,” Miss Lily says, smiling and waving her hanky. “We are having the best time, truly.”

Garrett calls to Carla to hurry it up.

“You’ll miss the boat!” he says cupping his hands and laughing.

Carla turns to be and gives me an unexpected hug. “I’m gonna go, Lorelei. I’m ready. Please come with us.”

I shake my head and back away from the Step of Devotion. “I can’t,” I say. I—I—I’m not nearly ready. Carla, I don’t know if I even want to be here. I might just stay in the Silver Window—forever. I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Carla’s eyes fill with tears. She hugs me again. “I wish you’d change your mind. I’m going to miss you something awful. Please, think this through—”

I will, I promise,” I say and hug her back.  My father steps off the staircase and reaches out to me.

“See you upstairs, punkin’,” he says. “Don’t be long.”

I half-nod my head.

Garrett grabs Carla’s hand. Miss Lily takes hold of my father’s arm. They step onto the staircase that will take them to the Step of Discovery. They’re forever journey will now begin. They’re faces are absolutely glowing. For an instant I’m tempted to join them. I turn to look back at the Golden Window and the Silver Lining. I just can’t leave those windows. Not yet. I promised Pete I’d take one last trip with him. I did. I promised him twice. I don’t want to be a liar.

I turn to tell the others what it is I have to do, but they’re no longer there. I hear laughter fill the air above me. My father’s voice is smooth as velvet. Miss Lily’s squealing with delight. Carla’s giggling and Garrett is ha-ha-ha-ing like his pigs. Carla’s laughing the loudest of all. I hear the door to the Step of Discovery slam shut. Then, puff! They’re gone.

SEVENTY-FOUR

The Golden Window

They’re wheeling Onetta into surgery. She had to take a black pen and write “yes” on both of her breasts, being careful not to come near the mark the surgeon made earlier that would guide him to the sentinel lymph node. There’re going to check that to make sure the cancer hasn’t spread. In the operating room, the anesthesiologist injects something into her IV line. She’s a goner in five seconds. I decide not to watch the surgery. It’s too gruesome. I go to find my mother. She’s in the Family Waiting Suite reading a magazine, or at least pretending to. There’s one other person waiting, a middle-aged man.

“Family member?” he says.

My mother cups a hand to her ear like she’s hard of hearing.

“Are you waiting on a family member?”

“Ah, no, no,” mother says. “My maid. She’s, she’s been with us for years—”

“My wife,” the man says, “both breasts. We never knew.”

“I’m sorry,” my mother says. She stands up and picks up her pocketbook. She’s going to leave. Small talk with strangers makes my mother uncomfortable, but at least she was cordial. Normally, she would have said, “I beg your pardon?” and not answered if some strange man tried to start up a conversation. It’s a good improvement in her behavior. I mean there she was—a perfectly miserable woman with a teenage daughter—mostly never being nice to anyone and then I die, and boom, she starts being a regular person.

I meander around the hospital looking in on other people. There’s a lot of suffering go on down here, that’s for sure. I go in and say hello to an elderly woman who’s all alone. I just stand near her side and pat her hand and give her some sips of water. She lays her head back on the pillow and nods. It’s a grateful nod. It pinches my heart. I didn’t do much, but I can tell it made a difference. It doesn’t take a lot to give a piece of yourself to another. I look all around. There are people everywhere in need of it—a kind word, a pat on the back, or even a smile. I wish I would have done that more when I was here for real.

Before I know it, it’s time to check on Onetta. She’s in the recovery room.

“Nodes?” she says, all woozy. “Did they finds any?”

“No nodes,” the nurse says, who’s taking her blood pressure.

Nodes?” Onetta says again. Maybe the drugs they gave her for surgery don’t just mask the pain—they make you forget everything, too.

“Nope, no nodes,” the nurse says. She takes her stethoscope and wraps it around her neck with one stroke of her hand. You can tell she’s had a lot of practice.

After recovery, Onetta’s taken to a private room my mother has arranged for on the extended recovery floor.  My mother can join her now.

“How’s our girl?” my mother says as she breezes into the room. She’s putting on her cheerful face. A nurse is pulling up the bedrails to Onetta’s bed. Good idea. The drugs don’t look like they’re out of her system yet.

“Doing fine,” the nurse says, and pats the lump in the bottom of the bed that must be Onetta’s foot.

“Mz. Goodroe,” Onetta says, “I’s doing real good, thanks to you,”

“Nonsense,” my mother says. “You’re doing good because you’re doing good.”

She takes Onetta’s hand in hers and gently squeezes it. I notice there are tears in my mother’s eyes and realize she really does care for Onetta. It’s not just an act. Onetta’s been with her for twenty years. My mother’s lost a daughter and a husband. She’s clinging to Onetta like lint on a sweater. Maybe this is good. Maybe this is all part of the big guy’s plan. Who’s to say?

*        *        *

“I’s hungry as a field hand,” Onetta says.

“Not yet,” the nurse says. “It might make you nauseas.

“Make me who?” Onetta says pulling on one of the rails.

“Sick to your tummy,” the nurse answers. She makes some notes on her clipboard, then, hooks it on the end of the bed. I notice my mother’s not in the room and wonder where she is.

“I’s sick to my stomach alright because I needs to eat sumpin’,” Onetta insists.