When Autumn Leaves: A Novel (18 page)

The next day, Ana did something she had never done: she called Finn at Bellaverde. Luckily, he was the one who answered the phone.
“Bellaverde.” There was something in his voice, something sad and caught that made Ana’s heart lurch.
“Hi. It’s me.”
There was a momentary pause. The seconds seemed like minutes. “Hi, me,” he answered at last. Ana could tell he was smiling.
“Do you have a minute? I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah, I’m just in the office going over the deliveries from this morning. What’s going on?”
Ana felt her pulse race, and her mouth go dry. Why was she so scared? She was a grown woman, and she certainly didn’t need Finn’s approval for anything. “Well, first of all, you’re probably not going to like what I’m about to tell you, but I had to do something. Yesterday was so . . . difficult, and it made me realize that I needed some help.”
“You told someone, didn’t you?” The silence that followed was a good enough yes. “Jesus, Ana, why the hell did you do that?” Finn’s voice was angry in the earpiece. “Who was it?”
“I’m not going to argue with you, Finn,” Ana said breathlessly. “All you need to know is that I did what was best for me. For us, actually. I needed someone else’s opinion to get some clarity. I told Autumn Avening. She’s my oldest friend, not to mention my wisest. I trust her completely, and she says she may have a way to help us.”
In Finn’s silence, Ana could hear him mulling this over. Everyone knew Autumn, and everyone knew her reputation as the de facto village wisewoman. Ana hoped he would come to the conclusion that consulting Autumn was akin to consulting a priest or a rabbi or any other kind of spiritual adviser.
“What kind of help, exactly?” he said at last.
“She didn’t say. She wants to tell us both in person, which is why I’m calling. Is there any way that you could make some time tomorrow to go and see her? I have the day off, so . . . ”
“Yeah, I could probably get away around lunchtime, say twelve-thirty?”
Ana was surprised Finn was being so accommodating; she thought she was going to have to do a lot of convincing. And then the conversation was over, not because they didn’t have anything left to say, but because they simply had too much.
The next day, Finn sat in a back room at Demeter’s Grove and looked anxiously from Autumn to her colorful store. It was complex and diverse, exemplifying everything he had learned so far about women. He was smart enough to understand, however, that no matter how long or how carefully he observed, no matter how diligently he listened, the darker and more mythical aspects of women would remain as hidden from him as a new moon. It made him uncomfortable, made him feel like an outsider. He crossed and uncrossed his legs.
“There’s no need to be nervous, dear,” said Autumn with a smile. “You won’t find any cauldrons or Shakespearian crones about. Our approach to the spiritual is thoroughly painless, I promise you.”
Finn managed a little laugh. Autumn made him both anxious and calm all at once, a feeling he hadn’t ever experienced before, and one he wasn’t sure he liked.
“I won’t torture you two any longer. I think you’ve done enough self-torturing to last a lifetime. I have a plan to help you out of your problem. But be warned, when I say out, I mean out.”
Now Finn was alarmed. “What? Like dying or something?”
“Finn, I told you Mr. Shakespeare is not in residence; no melodrama here. So relax.” Autumn gave him a smile Finn thought looked suspiciously patronizing. “No, no. Oh my, how shall I begin? I’ve said before that the main problem both you and Ana face is a question of time. Of timing, to be more precise. Would you agree?”
“Absolutely,” said Finn, nodding.
“Well, I have to ask you now to forget everything about time as you know it. Time is not a solid, linear thing, no matter how much man tries to pretend it is. Time has humored us, much like a parent does a child, bending this way and that, to make us think we have the upper hand, but make no mistakes: we do not. There are levels and dimensions of time, unimaginable twists and nooks that our puny brains cannot even begin to understand.”
Finn struggled to wrap his mind around her implications. “Are you saying . . . you can stop time?”
“Why yes, Finn, I believe I can.”
Autumn said it so casually that at first Finn thought she must be joking. But then he saw the serious expressions on her face, and on Ana’s. “No way. Not even you can do anything like that.”
“I asked you to throw everything you think you know about time out the window. I can stop time, or at least a part of it. I can make a few hours live outside of the normal context of time as you understand it.”
Finn looked over at Ana; she seemed thoroughly credulous, but he wasn’t sure he even understood what he was being told. “You can . . . create hours that don’t exist? For . . . for us to be together? Is that it?”
Autumn gave him one sharp nod. “The memories of such time will exist, just not in any part of your mind that you will be able to access.”
“Let me get this straight,” Ana said. “We can do whatever we want, but it won’t count, because according to the clocks around us, it will never have happened?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“And then . . . we won’t remember it?” There was some struggle on Ana’s face; she wasn’t sure if she hated that idea or loved it.
“That’s right,” Autumn said.
“But what’s the point?” countered Finn. “That will just bring us back to where we are right now.”
“No, because that’s only part of it. In order for this to work, it has to be done on Beltane, a very magical and fertile night. Whatever you two do will be planting a seed.”
“Wait, what do you mean, a seed?” Finn broke in nervously. Ana was fingering her blouse around her stomach; she was clearly thinking the same thing.
“Not a physical seed, Finn,” Autumn said. “Don’t worry; I wouldn’t trick you two into getting pregnant. That would be horrible for you both right now.” She smiled kindly. “I mean more like a seed of the future, a metaphysical seed of what might be. The seed will grow, or not grow, depending on you, and not because of what each of you want, but rather what each of you need. It will give each of you the time to figure out what must be done, according to your own clocks, at a much more lenient pace than the emotional roller coaster of love at first sight. Think of it like having a past life experience. But . . .”
“There’s always a but,” Ana said sadly. “What is it, Autumn?”
“Nothing comes without sacrifice. The spell will work at the expense of your feelings, and your memories of each other so far.”
There was a moment of dead silence. “Wait a minute,” Finn said finally. “What you’re saying is that after we get these few ‘non-hours,’ we won’t remember any . . . anything that’s happened between us up ’til now? We won’t have any recollection of the feelings we have for each other?” Finn shook his head. “I’m not sure I like this at all. That’s like mind control or something.”
Autumn leaned forward, her voice gentle but direct. “Finn, I asked Ana to tell me what she thought was the most important thing in her life, and she said that without question it was Russ. It would be the same for you and your daughter, am I right?”
“Yes . . .”
“She also hinted that her feelings for you were alienating her from her son. Not to mention the karmic payback that you both may have coming to you based on how you have managed this situation. So, the two of you can go on the way you have been, hurting everyone you care most about. Or you can do it this way, which ultimately may or may not hurt those same people, but at least it won’t devastate them. It’s your decision; believe me, I’m not going to force this on anyone.”
“I don’t need to think about it,” Ana said with conviction. “I want to do it, Autumn.”
“But what if this seed takes fifty years or something?” Finn asked. “What if, by the time we find our way to each other again, we are too old to enjoy it?”
Autumn blinked her long green eyes at him patiently. “Again, I would ask you to stop thinking about time as a tangible thing, a line that stretches from point A to point B. Your inner self will be your guide. The deepest, truest self connects with a greater power and has no sense of increments of time, only of the journey itself, and what you learn on the way. Your intuitive self will know when the time is right to clear the path for you to be together, if that is indeed your destiny. The seed you plant on Beltane night will sprout and grow, make itself known to you at that time. You should know better than anyone, Finn, that a garden will flourish when it’s good and ready.”
Somewhere in the back of Finn’s mind, there was a small voice encouraging him to say yes. Over the years he had learned to trust this voice. He looked at Ana, this woman he loved more than anything, and realized that she was worth waiting for, worth waiting his whole life for if necessary, and other lives too. He placed his hand on her knee, which fit snugly, perfectly, and nodded.
“There is one thing I would ask of you,” Autumn said. “I want each of you to write the other a letter. If you two find a way to be together again, then I will find a way to get these letters to you. I don’t like dishonesty. I especially don’t like the fact that I will have to keep such a thing from you, Ana. One day, I will want you, both of you, to know what has happened here. Knowing the sacrifices each of you made for your families will make your love story that much greater. Do you agree to this?”
They both agreed, and walked out of Autumn’s store in a kind of daze, each to their separate cars on the busy street, like two strangers.
Dear Ana,
I suppose if you are reading this, then we have found a way in the course of our lives to be together. I hope I am not a doddering old man, I hope I am still young enough to hold you, to bend and move inside you in the magnificent way our love deserves. From the moment I saw you, I knew my life had changed its course. I understood momentarily the nature of all things and maybe, just maybe, why it is that I was born. Six weeks can be a lifetime, as it is for some creatures. This was only the first chapter of our love, and like so many beautiful things, it was fleeting and miraculous, only living long enough to float just under the heavens without being touched by everything ugly and tainted in the world. Despite what Autumn says, I cannot, will not believe I will forget everything so far. I believe there will be something that lingers, something my senses will cling to. I will find a way to remember my way back to you, my love, and know that somewhere, somehow, you were always close.
 
With all of my love,
Finn
At 4:45 on Beltane evening, after a luxuriating afternoon of group spiritual cleansing and self-indulgent pampering with other Avening women, Ana sat on an old loveseat in one of the many nooks of Demeter’s Grove. Both her fingernails and toenails were wet, which meant that she couldn’t really do anything but stare, watching the goings-on inside the shop and grabbing snippets of the conversations that drifted within earshot.

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