The Third Angel (10 page)

“Think of all those silkworms working away somewhere. Now you're getting married. Paul will be a married man.”

The thought of what was happening was overwhelming to Frieda; she dissolved yet again. She seemed delirious. She whispered to her husband that there was someone standing against the wall. She'd seen it all before in childhood. Her father had been a doctor, after all, going from house to house. Frieda was convinced it was the Angel of Death.

“We don't believe in that, darling,” her husband said softly. “We believe in the hereafter.”

The nurse came in and shooed everyone out so she could see to Paul.

“I'm a nurse,” Frieda said. “I can stay.”

“Not with your own son,” the nurse told her. “It's not a good idea. You can come back as soon as I'm done. I'll be quick about it. I promise.”

Frieda was not easily convinced to leave.

“Come on, we'll get a quick cup of tea,” her husband said. “We'll get take-away cups and bring it back and she'll be done by then.”

Before Frieda left she turned to Allie. “They're probably right. I don't think you want to see this on your wedding day. Come with us, Allie.”

“I'm fine,” Allie said.

Allie had seen terrible things before, after all. She had seen her mother after her surgery, unable to get out of bed. She had seen the fragile blue veins on her scalp when she took off her wig. There was no way to be embarrassed or repulsed. Allie had never been squeamish; it had been weaned out of her. When the others left, she stayed. She sat beside Paul and held his hand.

“Hello,” he said.

“Hello,” Allie said back to him.

The nurse was changing his bedsheets first. For several days he had been defecating in the bed. It was so difficult to move him they no longer bothered and a diaper chafed against his skin, plus, Allie wouldn't let them do that to him. No diapers. Even if he didn't know or didn't have the strength to care, she cared for him. He hadn't eaten all week, so there wasn't much left to him, only a tiny dropping, like that of a fox.

She meant to tell him it was over in their suite at the Hotel Pulitzer in Amsterdam in the fall. Mrs. Ridge had paid for their trip. Because of that they'd gone first class. Allie had the words in her mouth. She was ready to say good-bye, and then all of a sudden a heron was on the lamppost beside them.

“He knows you've written about him,” Paul said. “He's come to pay his respects.”

Paul loved the Dutch attitude toward herons. People left their windows open, welcoming them into their homes. Have a heron in your house and your luck will change. Feed it milk and bread and beer and it will be forever grateful.

“Maybe we should move here,” Paul had said. “We'd be happy in Amsterdam. We'd live by the river. We'd leave all the windows open and let the herons fly through our flat. It would be your book come to life.”

A
LLIE LOOKED RIGHT
into Paul's eyes. This was their life now. The nurse bathed him a bit, then dealt with his catheter. Paul made a face; utter pain.

“Fuck that woman,” he said.

Allie smiled. “You'd probably try if you could.”

“You should go.” Paul's eyes were open.

Was he truly awake? Allie always vowed she would marry a man with blue eyes, then she'd found Paul. He must have told his mother about the roses she'd brought to Kensington Palace. He must have said, When I marry this woman she has to have white roses.

“I'll bet it's summer,” Paul said. “Leave if you know what's good for you.”

“I think I'll stay a while. We're getting married you know.”

“Go and don't feel guilty.”

“I can't,” Allie said. “I fell in love with you.”

“All done,” the nurse said. She checked the IV and let him have some more morphine. Paul's eyes closed.

The superintendant registrar arrived and promised to make the service brief. When Georgia came in, she hugged Allie, then held the bouquet of flowers while Allie edged into bed with Paul so that they could be close while the ceremony was performed. When the superintendant registrar made the pronouncement that they were both free to lawfully marry, Allie signed her name to the marriage contract. Paul's father held his hand and tried to help him make an
X,
but in the end Bill had to sign Paul's name. Lucy and Bill then signed as witnesses. Frieda needed to sit down; she bowed her head.

And then it was done; two married people.

“I'm happy you were the girl he fell in love with,” Frieda said when she regained her composure. “Have I told you that? I should have told you before.”

On the other side of the curtain, Rob Rosenbloom was quietly crying, but they pretended not to hear him. Allie slipped on the twenty-two-karat gold wedding band they had chosen, and then did the same with Paul's band. The ring was too big, so she put it on his middle finger. He was the one who'd chosen twenty-two karat. “The real thing,” Paul had said at the jeweler's. “None of this eighteen-karat crap for you.”

Georgia leaned in to give Allie a hug once Allie and Paul were officially husband and wife. She was still holding on to Allie's white roses. “I unofficially caught the bouquet. Which means I'm next.”

Rob had asked a nurse to order a cake from a local bakery. The cake was delivered in thin slices on plastic plates from the cafeteria. The family opened the curtain so Rob could join in.

“I didn't know there was somebody gorgeous hiding there,” Georgia said.

Rob grinned and accepted his cake. His nose and eyes were red. He had an IV in his arm. Sometimes he woke in the night convinced that his leg was still there and that it had fallen asleep. Everyone praised the cake he'd ordered. It was a yellow cake frosted with white spun sugar. Simple, just what Allie had wanted.

“How did you know?” Allie asked Rob.

“Psychic,” he said, but he'd heard all about the things that she wanted, late at night when Paul talked through his pain and his sleep.

Allie took a single bite of the cake, and then Paul moaned and raised his knees.

Allie thought about the night when she followed her sister into the marsh. She had walked right into the water when she spied the blue heron. Take me away from here, she had whispered. They had looked at each other for a very long time, and for those moments Allie believed he would take her with him. But when he took flight he had left her there, standing in the water, freezing.

“I think we could all use some rest,” Lucy Heller said. “I've gotten you a room at our hotel,” she told Paul's parents, who were grateful but said they were perfectly fine. Their dear friend Daisy Ridge had a house in Kensington and had invited them to stay, but frankly they would prefer to sleep in the hospital lounge. Frieda was not about to leave her son.

“What if he needs me?” she said to Allie. She sounded like a little girl.

“Of course you'll stay. The nurses will give you blankets and anything else you need.”

Allie's parents kissed her good-bye. Her father-in-law, for that's who Bill was to her now, suggested that perhaps she should go home and sleep for a few hours, but Allie couldn't do that. Frieda understood.

“Go get some tea, that won't take long. Or some soup.”Frieda had brought a little recorder and a tape of birdsongs to play. “I thought he might like this.”

Allie embraced her mother-in-law. She didn't want to go, but Georgia insisted.

“Just for a few minutes,” Georgia promised.

Allie went to the lunchroom, guided by Georgia; she let Frieda take over the watch, for that's what it was now. Minute by minute. The wedding lunch they were to have at the Orangery was to be a cold salmon with cream sauce, salad with raspberries and walnuts with a vinaigrette dressing, tureens of roasted vegetables, sliced lamb and tiny potatoes. Now Georgia ordered a pot of tea and two stale buns with drizzled frosting, a bowl of veggie soup, and wheat crackers.

They ignored the soup and stuck with the tea and the dreadful sugary buns. Allie had two bites. Georgia offered to stay through the night. During those times Paul was in the hospital for treatment, Georgia would often get into bed with Allie and wrap her arms around her friend while she cried. Sometimes Georgia would cry right along with her. She was the only one who'd known that Allie had decided to break it off with Paul before he was diagnosed. Afterward, all conversation about how she wanted to leave him ended.

There were times when Georgia considered warning Allie about her sister. She'd seen Paul and Maddy in the taxi together. She'd seen the look on Maddy's face, and she'd known. Frankly, Georgia had never been a huge fan of Paul's. She'd thought him superficial, too handsome, too self-involved. Paul had never once asked Georgia a single question about herself; she doubted whether he knew what she did at her publishing house, or if he was even aware that she had worked with Allie on
The Heron's Wife.
She'd been the art director on many children's books, and had won several awards, but
The Heron's Wife
was her favorite. Part of the charm of the artwork was the beautiful layout Georgia had created. It was possible to read the story two ways: Front to back, the heron returned to his heron wife and the world of the sky. Back to front, he stayed with his one true love on earth.

“Maybe I should spend the night with you here,” Georgia offered.

“You don't have to. Really. I'll have the in-laws.”

They both laughed at that. In-laws, after all. As much as she respected Frieda, Allie knew she would have to defer to Paul's mother on certain issues. Frieda wanted Paul buried with the rest of the family, near Reading, and Allie would never challenge that, even though he would be terribly far away. She couldn't even think about how far away it was.

“Now I'll have in-law problems without the husband.” Allie tried to joke, but she was near tears.

“Darling,” Georgia said. “Frieda adores you. And with good reason.”

“Don't say anything nice to me,” Allie warned. “I'll break down if you do.”

They said their good-byes in the hallway. “Give him a kiss for me,” Georgia said.

“You've never wanted to kiss Paul in your life.”

“I meant the neighbor with one leg. Rob. He's a doll.” Georgia hesitated. “Should I really go?”

“I can do this,” Allie said. “I don't have a choice.”

“Well, it's not as if you loved him,” Georgia said. “Right?”

Allie put her arms around her friend. She didn't let go.

“But I do,” she said.

“Jesus, Allie. I had no idea.” Georgia was stunned. “You didn't tell me, darling.”

“I didn't know.”

“Fucking love,” Georgia said.

“Just my luck.”

Allie took the stairs back to Paul's room. Once everyone had gone, Paul's mother had collapsed. The nurse had given her an antianxiety medication. The birdsong tape had been turned on. Allie thought of sitting in the grass with Paul outside Lilac House. It now seemed the most important thing they had ever done together.

“Frieda,” Allie said.

“I'm so sorry,” Frieda was saying. “I'm just a wreck.”

“She hasn't slept in two days,” Paul's father explained.

The in-laws went off to the visitors' lounge to lie down for a bit. There were blankets and pillows set aside for people keeping vigil. The nurses were incredibly kind. It was the hour when the minutes slowed down. Allie switched off the birdsong tape. On the other side of the curtain, Rob had fallen asleep. The sound of his morphine pump and the pump attached to Paul were in alternating rhythms, but somehow soothing. Allie removed her shoes, the ones that her mother had picked up for her that morning at The French Sole. She took off her jacket so that she was wearing only a camisole and her skirt, then she climbed onto the bed. Paul was curled up, breathing very slowly.

“Shall I tell you the story of the heron and his wife?” Allie whispered.

“I know it by heart.”

“But you don't know what happened when he left his wife on earth for his heron wife. When he flew into the sky, high above the trees.”

She tried to put her arms around him, but he moaned from the contact, so she simply stayed close.

“She glued feathers all over her body. She taught herself to fly. She followed him so that she could see him one last time. Nothing could stop her. She had to say good-bye. She loved him beyond all time and reason even though it was too late.”

Allie had begun to cry. She didn't want to disturb Rob in the next bed; she didn't want to make a mess. She tried to slow her breathing to match Paul's. Earlier, the doctor had said Paul wouldn't last much longer. How was it that doctors knew things like that? Or was it that the morphine drip was set at such a high level because of his intense pain that no one could survive the amount of chemicals that were being poured into his body?

“I will never let you go,” she said to Paul.

“Go,” she thought she heard him say.

Allie got as close to Paul as she dared without touching him. They didn't need to touch anymore; they were twined together now. She fell asleep beside him. She dreamed she was in a white dress and that it was her wedding. She could see the marsh and there was mud all over her bare feet. It was time, she knew that, right now.

She woke up freezing, in the dark. Allie didn't know where she was, but she knew who was beside her. She got out of bed and went around to the other side. She sat on a hard plastic chair. She saw that Paul's wedding ring had fallen off. His eyes were open but unfocused. She didn't even realize that it was happening until it did. There were birds outside, even in the heart of the city. He made a noise in his throat, and the sound went right through Allie in some deep, wrenching way. This was the here and now. This exact moment. Paul opened his mouth and a strange breath came out, as if his spirit was leaving him. Allie reached up to catch it, but it slipped through her fingers. It was so fine, it was like trying to catch light within a pair of clumsy hands or sift running water in the dark.