“Beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Yes, it is. I always loved the night,” I said.
“Do you ever miss sunlight?”
I gave her an amused look. “In my present condition, no. But yes, sometimes I wish I could see the ocean in full daylight. It’s been a long time for me.”
She nodded. “I’ve been thinking.”
“About?”
She nibbled her lip. “About this. I love spending all night with you, but I’m not sure I can give up being able to walk around in daylight.”
“I know,” I said, cupping her chin. “No nibbling.”
She looked guilty and troubled, but stopped nibbling.
“Better,” I said, despite the pain that went through me at her words.
“Look, you’re young. I understand that. I haven’t asked you about immortality again because I know what it’s like. I’m not sure I would do it if I was given the choice again. But why think about it now? Why worry about it? If it’s a gift you really want in a few years time I’ll give it to you. I love you.”
She let out a gusty sigh. “There’s more.”
I nodded and waited.
“I love you but I want to be someone outside you,” she said.
“What do you mean?” I asked as she settled herself against my shoulder.
“I love you so much it hurts and I always want to come home to your beautiful face, angel, and know that you’re mine. But I want some kind of life outside you. This last week was really important for me because it reminded me that I am someone outside us.”
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry. I never realized I’d done that to you.”
“You didn’t do it to me, I did it to me,” she said, capturing my gaze and holding it, her faith in me and in us firming her voice. “I got thrown out of my parents’ house because I was being a stupid child. I clung to you because I was frightened. I’m not frightened anymore.”
I smiled. “Now that’s a good thing.”
“I applied to university because that’s what I thought I had to do.
I’m not so sure I want it anymore, but I also don’t want to give up on it yet.”
“Yes, I should have gone to university when I had the chance,” I said. “I didn’t go and I’ve spent a long time regretting it.”
“Why didn’t you go?”
“It wasn’t as important in my day, and I just didn’t want to go,” I said. “When I finally did it was just a bit too late for me.”
“Why not go now if you really want to?”
“I’m technically dead,” I said with a grin. “So I can’t just enroll in school and get a degree. Plus I don’t really need to, anyway. What knowledge I need I can always get from a book.”
Bronwyn shook her head. “I want to go to uni so I can get a career and a life—so to speak—but I don’t want to do more study because quite frankly I’m fed up with it.”
I shifted and rested my head in my hand. “Look, why don’t you go and see what it’s like and if you really want to do it, keep going. If not, then just take a year off or something until you do want to go back.
Either way, I’m going to be here for you. I’m not going anywhere. I love you as much as you love me. We’re together for the long haul.
I’ve lived a long time, and I can wait for you to do what you need to do.”
She stared at me, ice cream forgotten.
I smiled. “You’re dripping, my beloved mortal. Surprised?”
She cursed softly and licked the dripping ice cream. “Yes, I guess I am a bit surprised,” she said after a few thoughtful moments. “I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. It reminds me of why I love you so much.”
“I’ve made my mark in this world, so I understand why you want to make yours. We’re together because we
want
to be together, not because we
have
to. Remember that and keep living your life. Forget immortality. If you actually want it we can talk again when you’re ready, all right?”
She nodded and kissed me, tasting me. She dropped her ice cream and climbed into my lap. I crept my hand up her thigh to her soft, wet heat, and her back arched as she tried to lean into my touch, wanting me to take her.
I teased her, nuzzling her neck as she moaned.
“Jesus,” she gasped, tearing herself away. “Let’s go home. I’ve been without and without you for long enough.”
I stood and scooped her up into my arms.
Wish granted.
Life continued peacefully for the next two weeks.
It was close to Christmas, and darkness of the evening was thick with heat when we emerged from our basement hideaway. Bronwyn smiled at me and went to check the mail. I stayed in the kitchen, torn between suggesting we go out so we could both eat or preparing dinner for her.
Going out won, and I sat on the kitchen counter waiting for her to come back.
She came into the kitchen slowly, jaw working.
“What’s the matter, love?” I asked, jumping off the counter and taking her into my arms.
“I think you should hear this,” she said, taking my hand and leading me to the answering machine.
She hit the play button.
“Hello, Ms. Crowley, this is Rebecca Ferris, director of nursing from Sunnybank Long Term Care Facility. We regret to inform you that Mrs. McDonald passed away this morning . . .”
Her voice faded away to nothingness as burning shock drove me to my knees.
Bronwyn slipped her arms around me and cradled me as the worst of my tears erupted. She stroked my hair and held me, and all I could do was sink into her soft, feminine warmth. Finally, when I had quieted a little, she gazed into my eyes, her own stained with tears as she shared my pain.
“We have to go there,” I said. “I have to see her one last time.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” she asked.
I nodded. “I need you with me.”
“Okay,” she whispered and hugged me again.
I was too upset to drive—or feed—so Bronwyn grabbed my car keys and drove us to Sunnybank. By the time we pulled into the parking lot, I had collected myself enough to face Rebecca Ferris without breaking down in tears.
We went to the front desk, and I flinched as memories came crashing down on me, and a disconnected feeling began. After tonight, I knew I would never see this place again, and it hurt. Although it depressed me, I had also taken comfort from it because my beloved Rose was there.
“Ms. Crowley?” a middle-aged woman with gentle, kind eyes asked. She held out her hand. “I’m Rebecca Ferris.”
I felt an instant of surprise, and Bronwyn squeezed my hand. I gave her a grateful smile. I had not heard her ask to see Ms. Ferris.
“Carlisle Crowley,” I said, automatically shaking her hand. My jaw worked. “May I . . . may I . . . ?”
“Yes, I’ll take you to her,” she said.
“Do you want me to come with you, angel?” Bronwyn asked.
I shook my head, unable to speak.
“I’ll wait for you,” Bronwyn said, gesturing toward the tiny waiting room near the front desk.
I nodded.
Rebecca led me away toward the bowels of the hospital.
“We’ll hold her here until you’ve made arrangements,” she said as we headed down the fire stairs to the lower levels.
“All right,” I said, finally finding my voice. “Either I or my companion, Bronwyn Hunter, will give you details.”
Rebecca nodded and pushed open the door to a small waiting room. “We can’t let you in there with her. It’s against government regulations. You can see her through the monitor.” She gestured toward a small television in the upper corner of the room.
“All right,” I said.
Rebecca nodded and left me. A few moments later, I was looking at what once had been my lover.
I couldn’t stop my tears. She looked so peaceful and husked out. I loved her still.
I
never
wanted to see Bronwyn like this, and thought for a second or two about pulling away from her, but the pain that brought made me cry harder. I could no more leave Bronwyn than I could Rose.
Fifteen minutes later, I went to the waiting room, and gazed at Bronwyn, her fair head bent over a tattered magazine I could see she wasn’t reading.
“Bronwyn,” I said quietly.
She looked up, and I was struck by her sculpted features and youthful beauty. My heart twisted at the gentle sympathy I saw in her vivid, green eyes.
“Angel?” she asked uncertainly.
“I’m feeling a little better,” I said. “I have to go and make arrangements for Rose. Will you come with me?”
She stood, giving me a sad, half smile. “I won’t leave your side unless you send me away.”
“And I never will.” I took her hand, and we went back to the front desk. Rebecca Ferris looked up at me the same gentle sympathy in her eyes that Bronwyn had in hers.
I told her I would give her details the next day, and we left.
We went to a mortuary close to home. I knew they would be open after dark. I had bought Rose’s plot there, close to my empty one.
Bronwyn stood by me as we planned out Rose’s funeral service.
It hurt me more than ever to know that I would not be able to attend.
After it was done, we went home. I spent the night in Bronwyn’s arms, unable to voice my grief, cradled by her gentle sympathy and soft tears.
Two nights later, Bronwyn and I stood by Rose’s grave. The headstone had not been placed and would not be for another two weeks. They had to wait for the ground to settle, said the morticians who had taken care of Rose.
Bronwyn stood a little behind me and off to one side as I gazed at the disturbed earth. There was a single rose lying on the dirt, and I looked back at her.
“This is from you, isn’t it?” I asked.
She gazed at me warily and nodded.
“Thank you,” I said and held out my hand to her.
She came to me, her eyes wide and body stiff. Her gaze shot between Rose’s fresh grave and the headstone on mine. I felt as though I were spinning out of control again and pushed the feeling back.
Death had not taken me, not yesterday, not today and it would not take me tomorrow. I would continue to walk the earth, and I was no longer tied to this place because Rose was there. I was truly free.
I was also isolated and alone, except for Bronwyn.
It felt awful.
I was beginning to understand what she meant by moving with the times. Despite her gentle presence, this was no life for her or for me.
We had to move on.
“Thank you, Bronnie,” I said with a crooked smile. “I think she would have liked that.”
Bronwyn let out a gusty sigh. “Thank God. I was afraid I was interfering.”
I laughed softly, despite myself. “Oh, no. Not at all. You never had the privilege of meeting Rose in her prime. She was very beautiful with a laugh that made everyone laugh along with her. Roses were her favorite flower. She inherited her love for them from her mother.”
“I think I would have liked to have met her, even though I’m sure I would have been jealous,” Bronwyn said, half smiling. “What did she like doing the most?”
I raised an eyebrow. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, angel. I really want to know.”
I held out my hand. “All right, then. I’ll show you. Come with me.”
She took my hand, a question in her eyes that I did not answer.
I drove us to an abandoned house close to my home. The gates across the drive were rusted and leaned precariously on broken hinges.
We went to a vine encrusted, cracked brick wall, and I helped her over, then followed her with lithe grace that made her roll her eyes. We went past the dilapidated wooden house to a forgotten, overgrown garden at the rear.
“Where the hell are we?” Bronwyn asked, peering into the darkness, the sounds of the river running close to us in the background.
“This was once Rose’s house. She signed it over to me before she went into Sunnybank. She lived here until then, but she wouldn’t let me fix it. It was her parents’ home.” I turned and looked at the house.
“It was a beautiful showpiece during its prime, but when Rose and I were together, her family turned their backs on her, and it fell apart.
I always wanted her to live with me but she wouldn’t give it up.” I winced at the unexpected pain the admission brought. “This is where she was most alive. And this is what she loved doing most of all with me.”
I reached out a trembling hand and slowly stripped Bronwyn.
Her eyes burned with desire as she reciprocated, and her full breasts pressed against mine, and I moaned softly as she claimed my lips.
“Not yet,” I whispered as I grabbed her by the hand and ran down to a rock by the water. I slid behind her and took her in my arms. I leapt into the air with her, turned a neat summersault, and landed in the cool water with a solid splash.
We both came up, Bronwyn gasping for air and grinning wildly.
“Oh my God,” she said. “My body wants one thing and my head wants another and something else wants both!”
I smiled and swam over to her, then held her close and tread water as I teased her body.
“Oh, God, if you keep doing that I’m going to drown,” she said.
I laughed, ducked under the water, and replaced my hands with my lips. She clutched at me, stiffened, and shuddered, and I came up laughing.
“Fuck,” she gasped, “you’re so lucky you don’t have to breathe.”
“Yes, thanks,” I said. We gazed at each other, and my heart ached for her and for Rose. “You ever swung off a rope into the water?”
She shook her head.
“Follow me,” I said, swimming away from her toward the shore.
Soon she followed me back into the water, swinging from an old rope under my watchful eye, laughing wildly.
We went several more times, and finally lay back on the bank of the river, staring up at the stars. She kissed every inch of my body, and I saw my frustration mirrored in her eyes. No matter how much I wanted to, I would never quicken.
Finally, close to dawn, we dressed, and I led her into Rose’s house.
The deserted rooms tugged at my heart strings, as did the dust and the decay. With the ease of long experience, I led her down to the basement that I had once shared with Rose, and fell asleep with Bronwyn’s golden head resting on my chest.
We awoke the next evening and left the old house. I didn’t think either one of us would ever be back there. As we drove away, headed to Newtown so I could feed, I promised myself for what felt like the millionth time that I would fix the house up, to the way Rose had always loved and remembered it.