Down From the Clouds (17 page)

"I'll try," she said, lip shaking. "This isn't going to be easy."

"I'll wait here as long as you need me to. Don't feel rushed."

She rounded a corner, wiping her tears onto her sleeve. They would take her away and dress her in a gown, gloves, and a mask. Required for all visitors of burn patients to avoid infections. I watched the clock for a while, but when the minutes turned into an hour and the hour turned into two hours, I got up and walked around. Ella happened to walk out a few minutes later, head buried in her elbow. Maybe it's cheesy. Maybe everyone would think it was strange. I didn't care. I picked her up and let her hide her tears in my sweater as I carried her to the car.

We stood next to the curb. I gazed into Emerald City. A little darker there tonight.

"Did she remember you?" I said.

Ella nodded. "She remembered everything and everyone."

"Does she know what happened to her? That she's burned pretty bad?"

She shook her head and tried not to cry. "Gavin. I don't know how. Don't understand it at all. The girl just got over a bout of cancer, possibly lost her chance to have children, finally gets engaged to a man who really, really loves her, and she's lying there on this hospital bed, looking like a mummy. Something out of a horror film really. She can't move. All I can see are her eyes, lips. and toenails. And she knows she's lost her face, her body. She knows she has a long road ahead of her. And what does she do, Gavin? While I'm holding back tears, trying not to lose it, what does she do?"

She stopped to catch her breath. I waited.

"What?" I said. "Everything okay?"

"She whispered, 'Ella, is that you?' Her eyes were closed. I told her it was me and she said, ‘Please, don't worry. Remember what I told you before? A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.'" Ella sniffed. "Can you believe that?"

I smiled. "With Sarah, yes, I can believe that."

"I don't think she will be able to see us get married. I asked if we could do it in her room. We can't. So I'm ready whenever you are."

"Okay," I said, opening the car door for her. "Let's not think about that today. We can talk about it later."

Chapter Twenty

The night before our wedding Pop's body weakened even more. He could no longer move or speak, but he could hear and nod a little to communicate. We didn't think he'd make it through the night, so Ella insisted I stay. Our first night together. Besides the few hours at the park. Not the best circumstances, but it actually was romantic. Pop asked us to light candles in his room, especially the lavender beeswax candles. My grandma's favorite. Then he directed us to a box in the closet. Top shelf. Furthest back. I pulled it down and looked inside. Tons of letters. Hundreds or thousands of them. 

"Want me to read these?" I said.

He nodded.

I sat beside his bed. "Can Ella and I take turns throughout the night?”

He nodded.

I sifted through the letters. Didn't take long for me to realize what they were. Ella reclined in the chair next to Pop's bed, held his hand, and closed her eyes.

The letters were divided by year. Obviously he saved them in chronological order. I held the first one by the flickering light of a candle and read aloud.

October 30, 1929

My dearest love, my Miriam,

Yesterday most of the world experienced something negative with the stock market, but I barely caught wind of it because my heart was set on you. You probably think I'm crazy. I'm sure you give hundreds of guys your address every day. I'm no different than most of them. Nothing special here.

I haven't been able to get you out of my mind since the moment you walked into the room. Your black dress and coat. Your dark hair pulled up and under a red hat. Single pearl earrings. I've painted you in mind so I always remember the day I fell in love with my wife. Maybe I'm bold, but when you know, you know....

I hereby proclaim this the first letter of hundreds. Care to write the greatest romance in the world with me?

If so, write back.

Eagerly awaiting your response,

Edward Kessler

November 10, 1929

Dearest Edward,

I find it quite silly that you questioned my affections. Did I not give it away with my constant blushing and childish grins?

I found myself thinking of you every day since we first met. Of course I will write this love story with you. Even when we are old and gray with many grandchildren, our feeble hands barely able to hold a pen, I will still write to you. Let's promise to always write letters to each other, regardless of the difficulties we face.

When you know, you know....

Most affectionately yours,

Miriam 

Ella drifted to the land of sleep as I continued reading aloud. Every now and then Pop nodded and grinned. As far as I could tell, he never fell asleep, so I kept reading through their Great Depression romance. Their wedding, several miscarriages, and so much more. All before the 1940's started. Their deep commitment to each other even through disagreements, which I read about several times, amazed and inspired me. Ella woke up when I reached the mid-forties. She took over the letters and I took her place beside Pop. Didn't take long for me to fall asleep to her sweet voice.

When I woke to bands of sunlight lying across the room, Ella had a huge smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

"Did you finish them all?" I said. 

"Yes. All the way up to the last one. He kept writing to her after she died. Every Sunday they would walk down to the Zelkova trees and sit on the bench. They'd talk for hours, even when your dad was a baby. So every Sunday after she died he sat there on Sunday and wrote her letters."

"I remember him doing that."

Pop rustled, tried to open his eyes a little.

"Morning, Pop," I said. "Do you need something?"

He nodded to the left of him where two letters were partially hidden beneath his pillows. One read
To Ella and Gavin
and the other
My Love, My Miriam
.

Dearest Gavin and Ella,

As I write this you two are probably embracing for the first time. Matt called and told me about Ella being on the news and you racing around Philadelphia trying to find her. Yes, Matt knew I wasn't dead. Did you really think I could dig all those holes as old as I am? I needed help. He's been a good partner. He's a good friend, Gavin. Keep him around.

Anyway, I'm writing this in case I can't speak anymore when the end comes. If I can speak, I probably already told you this. If not, here are my last wishes:

1) if I am still breathing, don't care how bad off I am, I want to be at your wedding

2) invite your father and please, be his son when I'm gone. As much as you have always thought of yourself as some kind of dark cloud, you are not that. You bring sunshine to everyone around you. The best part is you don't realize it. Your father could use some sunshine. 

3) put this last letter to your grandmother on her grave right after you bury me. It’s also for you to read, but not until I'm buried beside her.

Never give up, you two. Hard times are bound to come. No relationship is perfect, but if you soften up and allow yourselves to mold into one person, instead of two separate people sharing a home, you will find it much easier and more beautiful.

Be one and let no one tear you apart.

Gavin, thank you for lighting up my life after Grandma died. You have no idea how much you helped me live and love again. You are so much like her.

Ella, what joy you have brought to Gavin's life. I still remember the first time he saw you a decade ago. He called me after work that night and talked about you for an hour. Within minutes of seeing you, he lost the receipt with your number on it and the search began. I hope he never stops pursuing you. You are a sweetheart. You will be a great wife.

Love you both always,

Pop

Edward Kessler 

Chapter Twenty One

We didn't invite too many people to the wedding, so it didn't take long to prepare. Ella and I did everything together. She wanted to get married by the Zelkova trees, where my grandmother was buried, and instead of chairs she wanted everyone to sit on blankets in the grass. So we put a basket under the trees with a sign that said, "Make yourself at home."

Ella put bags of rose petals in another basket. She made a little tag for each one. Each tag had a copy of a drawing she made me create and the words, "And so . . . Life begins. Gavin and Ella Kessler. October 28th."

She placed a picture of Sarah on the bench under the trees and sat beside it for a minute.

"Things never turn out the way they look in our dreams," she said.

"It's not easy to get married while she's in the hospital," I said.  "But my real dream is to wake up to you tomorrow and every day after. I don't care about fancy dresses and wedding receptions. I don't even care who comes. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine. I don't know about you, but my dreams are coming true today."

"I love you." She smiled. "My brother said he will be here. He's driving from Virginia. Couldn't get ahold of my dad. My mom said she can't make it."

"Are you okay with that?"

"I knew it would be the case. Our family hasn't been close since they divorced. Anyway, since your dad is coming I would like him to escort me to you. I know it would mean a lot to him."

"Well, I have to say I feel a little weird about that."

"Do it for me?"

I nodded. "Is it possible to say no to that face?"

"Many people have." She took my hand. "But you just so happen to love me more than those people."

I laughed. "Definitely true."

We walked back to the house to get ready. A brisk October day. The man we hired as the officiant called an hour beforehand to make sure we were on schedule. We were.

Ella asked me to wear the suit I wore the night we met, but I had other plans. It took me a while to get dressed, even longer than Ella, but she stayed in her room, unseen, until I went outside.

Matt walked up the sidewalk to the porch.

"First to arrive," I said. "A good best man."

"Mad at me for not telling you Pop was alive all along?"

"A little, but I needed it."

Lydia tried not to laugh. "What on earth are you wearing?"

I spun around and faced them again. "I'm prepared to be ridiculed. It's a surprise for her. Might be weird to you guys, but she will love it."

"Are you some kind of Mr. Darcy from
Pride and Prejudice
or something?" Lydia said.

"Something like that." I laughed. "She loves all things regency and old-fashioned. Anything at least a hundred years old. She doesn't know it yet, but the wedding band I found for her is an antique ring from 1880."