In This Life Page 26

  Anyway, here’s my annual report for you. So much has happened this year—Jude was finally installed as a permanent deacon. Everyone in the parish loves him. We receive at least five pies a week from the little old ladies in the bridge club. And don’t get me started on the women from the divorce support group. They never miss a meeting when it’s Jude who facilitates the sessions. Once Father Dan steps in, the room clears out and there’s no one there!

  Dad’s doing well. He’s working as a consultant for his old company. We drove up to Seattle last January to meet his new girlfriend.

  And the mission. Oh wow. So, we finally got all the paperwork settled for the foundation under your name. Delmar is managing it from Thailand. Okay, don’t get mad. I know you left it all to me, but I thought that the memory of your generosity would live longer in the hearts and minds of the kids over there. I did as you asked, and the money that you left for the girls’ college education is locked up in a 529 plan. I know you said Harvard, but can we wait to see what they want to be when they grow up? After all, they’re only four, Tey.

  Guess who were the very first recipients of the Dante Leola scholarship? Malee and Chiayo! We saw them last June, and oh, my gosh. Malee is beautiful! Chiayo has grown to become such a responsible young man. The two of them have blossomed into such brave individuals—so outspoken and confident, so sure of themselves. You would be so proud of them.

  Peter is finally getting married in August, and Jude is his best man! And Maggie—her little king is flying all over the world with her and Donny as he sets up his new chain of stores in Asia. Delmar, Milena, and Paulina came to visit last November. I think Paulina has met someone from Germany. Her email said that she’s slowly falling in love with him. Isn’t that great?

  Your mom and stepdad stayed with us for two weeks last year. Jude’s parents invited them to New York for Thanksgiving, so we’ll be seeing them in a few months.

  Mikey. I have happy news! He got a job! Guess where? Goldman Sachs! Not quite Blackstone, but number two! We raised him well, you and I.

  Merle and Pearl are still going strong. They’ve surpassed their average life spans, but those two seahorses are still spending their days tangled around each other in the middle of our living room. They’re a family of six now, and Jude is constantly on me about following in their footsteps soon.

  And me? I’m really trying, Tey. I know you can see that I still have my moments. Sometimes the pain becomes so unbearable and I don’t know how on earth I will ever find a way to move on. The other day, while cleaning out the girls’ closets, I called your cell phone. I had this ridiculous urge to hear your voice and hoped that your voicemail message was still there. It wasn’t, of course, but it made me feel connected to you in some weird way. I think about you every day. I see you in every happy place. I see you so clearly every time there’s goodness and laughter, and my heart, though still broken, is held intact and kept whole because of your very selfless gift. We will be celebrating our fourth wedding anniversary in two months—can you imagine Maggie and me sharing the same wedding day? After all, you did ask me when I was going to start my life and I took you up on it. And I can breathe now, Tey. Even when I cry, the overwhelming heaviness is gone and the air that fills me gives me solace. Thank you for bringing him back to me. Thank you for Jude.

  Well, now I’m going to shut up and listen to you, okay? I don’t know how the reception will be from here this evening. Last year was pretty clear; I saw you in the stars right before the storm came.

  Tonight, will you be here? I can see some stars right now.

  Which one are you, Tey? Which one is Mom?

  Jude walks outside right when my tears begin to fall, and my heart still reacts the same way whenever he’s near. He’s holding two green balloons with one hand, the same colors for every year that I don’t get to see Dante’s verdant green eyes. In his other arm is Teah with ebony dark hair, wide awake and ready to jump into my arms. Jude places her on his lap as he takes a seat next to me.

  “There you are, Mrs. Grayson.” He looks at me with so much love. My husband. My lover. My fate. My air. My everything.

  He kisses me before wiping the tears from my eyes.

  “Are we ready?” he asks cheerfully, trying to rouse me out of my reverie. “Teah, wake up your sister so we can send the balloons up to Uncle Dante.”

  “I’m not sleeping!” exclaims Danielle. “I heard everything, Mommy! You said I was giggly.”

  Jude and I laugh as we hand the balloons over to the girls.

  “Ready?” says Jude.

  “Set?” I say.

  “Go!” yell the girls as they release the bright green balloons into the dark blue sky.

  Jude goes quiet and whispers something up in the air. The girls don’t hear him, but I do.

  “Thank you, dude. Thank you for my Blue.”

  “WE LOVE YOU, UNCLE DANTE!”

  We all scream out loud, and the winds carry our voices across the sky and into the sea.

  “SEE YOU NEXT YEAR!”

  WHAT HAPPENS TO the living when the performance is over and the final curtain call has ended? The characters in your life story, they come and they go.

  But every so often, there are those who are cast, whose roles despite fleeting and brief, become the essence of your story. They live on forever in the words that are spoken, in the songs that are sung, in the scenery of the stage, in the days and nights when the audience is nowhere to be found.

  The living must go on. And Dante will always be a part of our living. He may not be here, in this life, but his presence will shine through everything that fate has planned until the day that I see him again.

  This isn’t a story about death or the dying or the sadness or indescribable emptiness that comes with losing someone that you love. This is a story about the infinite bounds of true love and commitment, and the redeeming gift of hope.

  It is a story of a girl who loved two men in her life. It wasn’t a love triangle; she wasn’t confused nor was she apologetic. She set out to prove to the world that there are different kinds of love that can only be experienced once in a lifetime. She became living proof that sometimes, you have to lose faith in order to truly believe. That you may never find a Jude or a Dante, but through adversity and tears, you will always end up finding you.

  And boy, does this girl believe.

  She places her faith in the stars and the skies and the alignment of the universe. And then she places her trust in the One who forgives, who loves unconditionally, who only gives what one can take. She places her trust in the hands of God.

  It may not be the same for everyone else, but to her, it’s the only way.

  The stars dropped out of the sky two years ago and shook my world like you wouldn’t believe. During that time, I prayed for clarity, for purpose, for an end to my confusion. I was filled with anger and disappointment when my prayers weren’t answered. Why didn’t God want me to be happy if He loved me so much? This book is a testament to that time, that darkness and the hope that was never realized. It is a lesson learned – that fate is fate, and what’s meant to be will be. No amount of prayers will change what God has planned for you, and with that acceptance comes peace.

  This book would not have been possible without the help of the following people:

  Nelly Martinez de Iraheta - her encouragement, her friendship and her collaboration in writing this book. Some of these words are hers. Trisha Rai, who stuck with me through hundreds of versions of this story. Leylah Attar, who has become such an important part of my life. Jim Thomas, best editor in the world and Italia Gandolfo, my agent, who believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself. What an honor to work with the two of you.

  Rick Miles just knows too much about me and I am thankful for his friendship. Erin Dauer Roth read this book as former editor and always friend, and it means the world to me. Angela McLaurin has never let me down, always just a text message away.

  Luisa Hansen who read this book at
the last minute and found the time to help me make it better. Becca Manuel for shining a light on my book with your trailer. My friend Lindsay Sparkes, for another beautiful cover creation.

  I’ve learned so much in the past two years, I don’t even know how to thank everyone who has taken this journey with me. Thank you to my Butterflies, loyal friends, who loved me through my whirlwind of a year, who have stayed even when there has not been a book to talk about – you guys keep me going - Vasso V., Daiana S., Maricar A., Anna G., Christine A., Karolin D., Donna D’A., Lisa R., Melissa J., Suzanne W., Alisha J., Laura W., Barb M., Emma F., Kissy M., Manuela F., Robin S. (times 2) – to name just a few. YOU are my inspiration and I am so lucky that you are all a part of my daily life.

  Thank you, CB Philippines, Jem and the rest of the Sinclairs – Dianne, Majul, Sayyeda, Zarce, Anne, Rafael, Luigi, Jane, Rose, Mabie, Danna, Amanda, Hannah and KC, and all of you who welcomed me even when you didn’t know who the heck I was. I love you so much. You made my dream come true.

  To the staff at National Bookstore for your genuine support and interest in this book, Xandra Ramos, Chad Dee, Lola Tumaneng.

  All the bloggers who have supported me through all four books – Vilma Gonzalez, Angie McKeon, Brandee Veltri, Tammy Zautner – you are special to me because you read my book without putting me through the always humiliating act of asking to be read; Cris Soriaga Hadarly, who has never left my side.

  Tarryn Fisher, for teaching me how to embrace my life. And for never wavering. Thank you for protecting me and for showing me that it’s okay to be a mess sometimes. I bet you don’t realize just how much you do for me. The world looks so much better (and funnier) when I see it through your eyes.

  You, for teaching me all about unconditional love. This is your shout out, Agent Orange.

  And as always, to my family especially my husband, whose love and encouragement allows me to blossom and grow. I owe you everything. And this book is for you.

  CB

  The Light in the Wound

  His Wounded Light

  Insipid