Remember The Moon (25 page)

“So, Maya,” Patty said, “tell me about the cottage where you and Marcus know each other from.”

Maya took a deep breath. “Well, it’s on Georgian Bay, a beautiful part of northern Ontario, where the pine trees have all been blown in the direction of the prevailing wind and there is a lot of rock—”

“Canadian Shield,” Marcus corrected.

“Right,” Maya said, annoyed. “Canadian Shield rock, so there are lots of little islands everywhere. I used to love going there. My family spent entire summers there.”

“Our families were friends,” Marcus interjected. “Our cottages were just down the road from one another.”

“Oh, so you’ve known each other for a long time then,” Ian said.

“My family bought our cottage when I was about ten, and Maya was, what?” Marcus turned to Maya. “Seven?”

“Eight.”

“Eight. Right. I didn’t really meet you until a few years later, but I used to spy on you,” Marcus said.

“You did? You never told me that.”

“I didn’t? Yeah, well I used to swim under my dock and stay there and watch you and your family swimming.”

“Did you have a little puppy crush on Maya?” Patty asked. Both Maya and Marcus blushed.

“I guess I did,” Marc said, grinning before biting down on a burger.

“As we got older, the people on the road got together on the beach and had these huge bonfires...” Maya said, looking wistful.

“Corn roasts,” Marcus interjected. “We would wrap cobs of corn in tin foil and stick them into the coals. They were to die for!”

“Can we try that with the corn next time, Mom?” Owen asked.

“Sounds like fun,” Patty answered.

Maya seemed lost in reverie. I remembered the photograph of her being held by Marcus around one of those bonfires and knew her thoughts were there too.

“Do you remember counting the shooting stars that night?” Maya asked, looking at Marcus.

Marc closed his eyes. “Yeah. An amazing night. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many stars. We counted, what? Fifteen shooting stars?”

“Something like that. A lot.” Everyone else around the table was quiet as they listened to Maya and Marcus.

“We had some good times, didn’t we, Maya?”

“We did. We really did,” Maya agreed. She looked up at Marc and then around the table at everyone watching her. “Oh! Well, it looks like maybe it’s time to clear the table,” Maya said as she stood up and gathered plates. Patty rushed to help. Marcus and Ian and the boys stayed at the table talking about whether there were people living on Mars. In the kitchen, Maya stood beside Patty as she rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher.

“You and Marcus have quite the history together,” Patty said, taking another dish from Maya.

“Yeah, we’ve known each other a long time. Actually, Marcus was my first love if you want to know the truth.”

“Really?” Patty stopped to look at Maya. “Your first love?”

“Yeah.”

“No wonder you guys were getting all googlie-eyed with each other out there.”

“What are you talking about? I wasn’t googlie-eyed!” Maya said.

“Oh yes you were. And so was he.”

“No! I’m not at all interested in Marcus!” Maya's voice came across sharply and she looked to be close to tears.

“Oh! I’m sorry, Maya, I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s just...” Patty stammered.

“I am not interested in Marcus Pellegrino! Really.”

“OK,” Patty said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, Maya.” Patty put her hand on Maya's back.

“Sorry,” Maya said, regaining her composure. “It’s just—”

“No need to explain. Will you take these out?” Patty handed Maya the dessert plates and forks and then followed her out with the pie. Marcus’s eyes were on Maya as she leaned over the table to set a plate and a fork down at each place setting. She sat and took another sip of wine, avoiding eye contact with Marcus. Patty sliced the blackberry pie.

“Homemade from blackberries picked from our own garden. I froze them last summer.”

“This looks amazing, Patty, as usual,” Marcus said as he put a forkful into his mouth and closed his eyes, savoring and letting out an audible moan. “Delicious.”

“Thank you, Marc. I’m so glad you like it. You’re always so easy to please.”

“When are you leaving?” Maya asked abruptly. “Leaving?” Marcus seemed lost for words. “The day after tomorrow. Why?”

“No reason,” Maya said and dug into her pie. Marcus turned away from Maya and asked Ian about a book they had obviously discussed before. Maya and Patty talked about the upcoming school auction. The boys jumped up from their half-eaten plates of pie and disappeared back to the basement. When everyone had finished, Marcus stood up and began collecting dishes. Patty started to help him.

“Maya and I have this, Patty. You sit. Have a moment with your husband.”

“That’s very sweet, Marcus. Thanks.”

Maya stood and glared at Marc, obviously not pleased to be in his company. In the kitchen, Maya took Patty’s place by the sink and rinsed plates before putting them into the dishwasher.

“What’s going on here, Maya?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting awfully strange.”

“Am I? I guess I’m just not very comfortable having the man I committed adultery with being friends with the family of one of my son’s friends. You might say it feels a little awkward for me.”

“You’re not acting like it’s awkward.”

“What do you mean?” Maya asked.

Marcus took a step toward her. “All that talk about the bonfire. You were reminiscing. We were in love then, Maya, remember?” Marcus touched the top of Maya's hand with his finger.

Maya pulled her hand away like she’d been stung. “That was a long time ago, Marcus.”

“I can understand you’re feeling guilty, but you’re not married anymore,” Marc said quietly.

“What happened between us is done. It was a mistake on my part, and it didn’t mean anything. I love Jay.”

“Of course you loved Jay. But I don’t believe I meant nothing to you. We had something real. Just like there was something real all those years ago. Something I think about every day and I have a feeling you do as well.”

Maya hiccupped a quick intake of breath. “Don’t do this, Marcus.”

“Do what?”

Patty walked into the kitchen with a pie plate, a mangled slice pooled in the center, two empty glasses of milk, and an empty bottle of wine.

“Uh, we can’t keep talking about the past!” Maya grabbed another one of the glasses that Patty had set on the counter and jammed it into the dishwasher. Patty gave Marc a wide eyed expression that said, “Did I interrupt something?” and Marcus shook his head.

“Patty, this has been a lovely evening, thank you so much, but we really have to get going. It’s a school night.”

“I’m so glad you and Marc were able to meet and reconnect!”

“Me too,” Marcus said. “It’s been great for Maya and I to revisit our past.”

Maya said nothing and went to the top of the basement stairs to call Calder, who came up, reluctantly.

“Aww, why do we have to go?”

“It’s a school night. You have an early morning,” she said. “Just another half an hour?”

“No. We’re going
now,
Calder. Did you have a coat?” Hugs were exchanged between Maya and Patty and Ian, and Marcus gave Calder a high five.

“Hope to see you again soon, K, buddy?”

“Yeah. Sure,” Calder said. Maya stood waiting for the exchange to be over and then ushered Calder out the door. When she turned back to say her final farewell, Marcus stepped forward and pulled her into an embrace. He held her tight. At first she stiffened, but then she seemed to just let go.

“It’s good to see you again, Marcus,” she said, her voice wavering. “Have a good trip back to Van.” She turned quickly and put her hand into the air for a wave without turning around. Outside on the sidewalk, Maya followed Calder, who raced down the street toward the path into the ravine. She blotted her eye with a fingertip as she walked. Calder waited for Maya and by the time she caught up to him, she had calmed herself.

“I wish we had a friend like Marcus who would come to visit us,” he said, now dragging a stick along the damp path, lit by moonlight.

“Why?”

“Dunno. He’s cool I guess.”

Maya looked up at the full moon and closed her eyes as she walked.

The next day, Maya stood in front of her half finished painting, her brush hovering. The pristine Georgian Bay scene with mounds of coral rock that looked like the backs of submerged tortoises in inky water, and a sky wispy with clouds. She dabbed her brush in paint and began to stroke a thin layer of white across the sky. I thought of that view, standing on her deck, and remembered the scene in the bunkhouse playing air guitar. With that thought, Pat Benatar singing “You’re a Heartbreaker” came on the radio.

“Seriously?” Maya said aloud.

Jay, is that you?

Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.

Christ. Are you trying to tell me something?

Just remembering.

Is this about Marcus?

I didn’t know the answer to that question. Was it?

Is this some sort of cruel sign I am meant to be with Marcus?

I don’t know, Maya. But it might be.

She scooped white paint onto her brush and smeared it across the sky, obliterating the entire scene with big white globs. She stabbed at the canvas with her brush, piercing it with what looked like bullet holes. She stabbed over and over, tears taking over, and then she grabbed the painting off the easel, which crashed to the floor, spilling the jars of brushes, glass smashing. She screamed and tried to break the painting over her knee, the canvas giving way but the wooden frame remaining intact. She stomped on the frame to break it apart, crying, “Stupid, stupid, stupid! I can’t do this!”

Maya sat amid the wreckage in a corner of the sunroom, hugging her knees to her chest until the crying stopped and her face, streaked with tears and white paint, slackened.

M
aya dabbed a tissue on the corners of her eyes as she sat in a utilitarian leather chair of vaguely Scandinavian design.

“I can’t stop crying.” She looked out at a seventeen-story view of Seattle with Puget Sound visible in stripes between sleek grey buildings. I kept to the corner of the room, wishing I wasn’t culpable in her distress, or that I could do something to excise it. The story of her encounter with Marcus spilled out through tears and hiccups as her therapist, Dr. Haslett, sat across from her, silent but attentive, his suit looking both tailored and relaxed. She leaned over and pulled another tissue from the box on the table beside her, the spent ones littered like a collection of snowballs across her lap.

I was to blame for Maya's breakdown. Pat Benatar could send anyone over the edge. I needed some way of conveying my apology and my forgiveness to Maya. I only had my presence and my thoughts.

“You sound angry that you encountered Marcus this way,” Dr. Haslett said.

“I was unprepared. I wasn’t expecting to see him.”

“You weren’t happy to see an old childhood friend?”

“Well, I might not have mentioned that he was also my first love.”

“You did mention that. But it still seems like you would be happier to see him than you were. Why the anger?”

You may as well tell him, Lenie.

“We had a bad break-up.” Maya looked at the clock. “A long time ago,” Dr. Haslett reminded her.

“Yes.” She looked up at the doctor as she said this, perhaps challenging him to probe further, but willing him not to.

“That still doesn’t explain your strong emotions. Is there more about Marcus you haven’t told me?”

It’s OK, Maya. Speak the truth.

Tears dropped into her lap and she made no effort to wipe them away. She didn’t speak for a long time. The doctor waited patiently.

“We had an affair,” she whispered, finally. “While Jay was alive.” She blew her nose loudly and wiped away the tears, crumpling another tissue and adding it to her collection.

Good, Lenie.

“I see. That does make for a complicated grief. ”

“Complicated is a good word for it, yes.”

The doctor smiled at her remark. “It would make sense for you to feel guilty about your affair. When Jay died, you had no way to set things straight. You were robbed of the chance to discuss the affair with Jay and get through it together, whatever might come.”

Would you have left me?
Her thought pleaded.

I would have stuck by you.

“Yes, that’s the problem. I don’t know what to do with it. How do I get over the guilt? And the shame?”

“You have already begun by speaking the truth to me. I expect there will be some forgiveness that needs to happen as well.”

“Forgiveness? I need to forgive Marcus?”

“Yes, but more importantly, you need to forgive yourself.”

Yes!

“Oh.” Maya twisted her tissue into a snake-like shape. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“It’s not an easy thing to do. Forgiving others is the easy work. But Maya, Jay was also to blame for your affair, through his neglect of you, or at least his perceived indifference.”

I wish I could go back and change that, Lenie. I regret how I treated you.

“He was busy. It wasn’t his fault.”

Busy, yes, but that was no excuse. I hardly participated in our marriage. I see that now.

“Not entirely, but his actions or lack of action played a part.” Dr. Haslett set aside his notebook and folded his hands into his lap. “How do you feel about Marcus now?”

“I don’t know. Why?” Maya sounded tentative.

“Are you in love with Marcus?”

A part of me didn’t want to hear the answer to this question.

“In love with him? I was once.”

“I mean now.”

“I don’t know.”

I think you do, Maya.

Am I still in love with Marcus?

“When you were having the affair with Marcus, how did you feel?”

Maya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if trying to place herself back at that hotel. “Alive,” she said at last, opening her eyes. Dr. Haslett nodded.

I can’t compete with ‘alive’, Lenie.

“Something to ponder,” he said.

The four women sat on the floor on Kilim cushions in Chelsea’s sunny living room, sipping jasmine tea. It was her turn to host the monthly support group.

“This is a pretty room, Chels,” Kristie said, “but it’s such a gorgeous day, do you think we could sit in your garden? I just love it out there.”

“And can I make a suggestion as well?” Molly asked. She didn’t wait for an answer but waved her hands over the tea and cookies arranged on the table. “Tea is nice and all, but can we have wine?” They all laughed.

“I was trying to be good,” Chelsea said in mock pout. “I’ll get the glasses. Sheesh, you widow types!”

The women moved out back to sit around an antique iron table under a trellis dripping with pale purple wisteria. Us husbands lingered nearby, congregated by a low stone wall bordering an extensive garden.

“Who wants to start?” Kristie asked.

“Chelsea, we are living vicariously through you. How’s your romance with Ken going?” Molly said.

Chelsea smiled. “It’s going great! I really like him. He gets along great with Tatiana. He’s really good with her. It’s cute to watch.”

“How long’s it been now?” Maya asked.

“About a year and a half, I think,” Chelsea said as she flipped through photos on her phone, finally handing it over to Molly.

“Look at this. That’s Ken with Tatiana at the zoo.” The women took turns passing the phone around, smiling at the photo.

“Do you think you’ll get married?” Kristie asked as Chelsea took her phone back and tucked it into her purse.

“Married? I don’t know. I don’t feel a huge need to get married. I have a kid, enough money, a house, a job. I like how things are with Ken now. I don’t really want to rock the boat, you know? Plus, I don’t think he’s in any great rush. He had a pretty messy divorce,” Chelsea added. “There are also financial implications if we get married.”

“Your survivor’s benefits would stop, I think,” said Kristie.

“I don’t even know,” Chelsea said. “I would never let that be part of my decision to get married though.”

“I think I feel the same way about marriage, Chels,” Maya said. “Why bother?”

“And what about your old flame, Missy?” Molly said to Maya.

“Yeah! We want an update! Have you seen Marcus since you met him at your neighbor’s house?” Kristie asked. Maya had told the story of her encounter with Marcus in the previous month’s meeting and the women had quizzed her. Maya's reserve in talking about him had obviously raised their suspicion that something was going on.

“Hang on!” Chelsea said. “If this is going to get juicy, we need more wine! Let me grab another bottle.” When Chelsea returned and poured the wine, Molly prompted Maya to continue.

“OK, so Marcus. I think we were waiting to hear if you’ve seen him again.”

“Right.” Maya laughed. “No. And I don’t expect to. I was so mean to him that night. It’s been two months since then and we’ve had no communication. I think if he was really interested he would’ve called.” Kristie gave Maya a thoughtful look. “What?” Maya asked.

“From what you told us last time, I think you made it pretty clear you didn’t want to hear from him,” Kristie said. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“Are you expecting him to call you?” Chelsea asked. “It sounds like it’s in your court.”

“Guys, this is a romance that is going nowhere, I promise you,” Maya said. She took a sip of wine.

“Are you in love with him?” Molly, who had been unusually quiet, asked.

The husbands all looked at me.

What?
I thought.
I’m cool.

Quite a departure from the first meeting, then,
Ben said.

I’m coming around.

“In love with Marcus? That’s the second time this week someone ’s asked me that.”

“Well, are you?” Molly asked again. “He was your first love, after all.”

“And the way you talk about him...” Chelsea interjected.

“It’s very complicated with Marcus,” Maya said before pausing and then blushing.

“How?” Kristie asked.

“You know, because we were childhood sweethearts,” she said quickly. “Plus, I’m pretty burned out on relationships after Dominic.”

“Ugh.” Chelsea grunted. “I never liked that guy. ”

Me neither, Chelsea
. I felt Declan, Ben, and Charlie’s agreement of my thought.

“I got caught up into thinking I loved Dom because I thought Jay had ‘sent’ him to me. I fell under the spell of a psychic prediction. When it happened, I told myself it was meant to be and ignored all the red flags. Plus, I think I mixed up sex with love.”

“Oh, I miss sex!” Molly moaned.

What I’d give for just one more time,
Declan, Molly’s husband, thought, glowing with a deep pink aura.

“Tell me about it,” Kristie agreed.

Ben’s aura changed when she said this, but his thoughts were blocked, so it was impossible to guess his opinion of his wife’s statement.

“Sex is nice,” Chelsea said, smiling. She took a sip of wine coquettishly and everyone laughed.

“Stop that!” Molly said, giving her a playful slap.

She’s definitely found her solace in sex,
Charlie laughed. We all looked at him.

You don’t watch, do you?
Ben asked.

Nah. I give her privacy, of course. But it’s impossible to not see it in her aura.
Indeed, Chelsea’s aura gave off a glow that had a unique energy to it that registered as heat to us.

It doesn’t bother you?
Declan asked Charlie.
Knowing?

Nah. It’s freeing me. The more alive she becomes after her grief, the more she lives her life, the more energy I feel. Almost as if I become more alive as well.

I hadn’t thought of it that way. I noticed a slight change in my own energy when Maya began seeing Dominic, but it never occurred to me to attribute it to, well, Maya having sex
.

Yes, it’s sort of as if two souls merge during sex,
Charlie thought in response.
And in a way they do. The human brain is closest to spirit at the moment of release.

“Quit gloating, be-otch!” Molly said, laughing.

“It’s weird. I never liked sex this much with Charlie. I feel so guilty about that. But now, it’s like I’m a wild thing. It makes me feel so alive,” Chelsea said, eyes wide. Her passion was obvious.

Is there an equivalent to sexual release in the spirit world?
I asked Charlie.

Sort of. You can “merge” with another entity to emit a unique form of energy. I think of it as being like the clashing of light sabers in Star Wars. At least, that’s my understanding. It’s an experience that none of us are apparently ready for. It can only happen at the higher frequencies. Why do you think we all reincarnate into humans over and over? We ALL miss sex!
The mirth felt from the husbands at this thought was palpable.

“Yeah, I think that’s what happened with me and Dominic,” Maya said. “I just craved that intimacy. Oh god, how wonderful it felt to be touched!”

“There’s always Marcus...” Chelsea prodded.

“No!” Maya said loudly. We were all surprised by her tone. “I just mean... well there’s something about Marcus I haven’t told you.” Maya's face turned pink, and tears gathered, welling in her lower lids. “I had an affair with Marcus while Jay was still alive,” she whispered and looked down into her lap to avoid eye contact with the group.

“Oh, Maya,” Molly said, grabbing a napkin and handing it to Maya, who dabbed her eyes with it. “Why didn’t you tell us before?” Molly reached out and put her hand on Maya's shoulder.

“I don’t know. I feel so ashamed. So guilty.” Maya's tears fell down her cheeks. Molly took her hand. Maya seemed so small and her aura faded to the color of weak tea.

“It’s OK, honey. We all still love you. ”

It’s true, Maya. We all do.

“It must be so hard to grieve with all that guilt,” Chelsea said.

“I think I just blocked it out and pretended the affair never happened, but that fell apart the night I met him at Patty and Ian’s. I haven’t been able to stop crying since. It’s been awful. I had a total temper tantrum and wrecked one of my paintings and haven’t painted since. I just can’t seem to get motivated.”

I feel so helpless. How do I help her?

We all do,
Charlie responded to me.
You can’t help her. Living is a struggle, remember?

I smiled.
Nobody tells you that death is a struggle too.

“Maybe you should call him,” Molly said.

“Who, Marcus? Oh god, no. I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? You’re obviously in love with him.”

“I am? I loved him once, but now, I don’t know. I have love for him as my first love, but ‘in’ love? I’m not so sure about that.”