All the Good Girls go to Heaven

[forever_mone]

Oh my goodness! This chapter was so intense! I was holding my breath as I was reading this! Wonderful writing as usual.

[sdhoey]

OH MY..    I've been fine reading this up until now.. You are a wonderful talented writer!!

[alex51299]

I can't believe he would do that!!!!  I can't wait for the next chapter!

[loveSims]

Amazing chapter! Cayden is one of those characters that you have a love hate relationship with. I feel sorry for him, but want to slap him at the same time. You really make everyone came alive in the story.

[ApplesApplesApples]

Chapter 19

"Leah, calm down! You're okay!"

"Aliyah, give that to me."

I stood in the kitchen with no memory of getting there. Milo and Bindi were a few feet away from me, Bindi concerned and Milo outright angry.

"Give what?" I said.

"The knife. Set it down," said Bindi. "Just set it on the counter."

"Give it to me," said Milo. "Hold out your hand and give it to me."

The contradicting instructions confused me. I looked at my hand and saw that I clenched a bread knife in my fist. "I must have been making toast," I said.

"It's ten pm," said Bindi. "It's not time for toast, Leah."

I handed the knife to Milo. He snatched it away and put it in the holder, which he put away in the cupboards, out of reach.

"What's going on?" I asked. "Where's Mae?"

"You just put her to sleep," said Bindi.

I stared at her. I didn't understand. "What... day is it?"

"It's Friday. It's been two weeks since you crashed the car and nearly killed yourself and Mae. Remember?" said Milo. None of the mild man who'd been impossible to provoke left in him.

As I realized that I had no recollection of the past two weeks I started to become terrified. It wasn't exactly that I had no memory whatsoever, as I slowly discovered, but that a big part of my memory had blurred into confusion. Looking back now this is the first moment of clarity after the wreck. And after that, sometime later, in Dr. Hugh's office, came the next clear point on my chronology.

"Stress," said Dr. Hugh. "That's all it is. You have had quite a few traumatic experiences in the past few years, starting with the death of your parents. There's nothing physically wrong with you. All you need is to see a psychologist. You'll sort yourself out in no time. Don't worry."

"I have PTSD?" I asked.

"No, not at all. Just a high stress level." He shook the paper on which he'd written the psychologist's name in front of me as I didn't take it. "It's very easy to fix. Just relax, take it easy, and see a professional."

"It seems like it's a combination of your parents' death, the strained relationship with your daughter, your loveless partnership with Milo, and your complex relationship with Cayden," said the psychologist.

Well, congratulations, I thought. "That sounds about right."

"It's a mix of a lot of things, and it's going to take some time to work through everything. I would recommend you quit your flight lessons."

"But I feel good when I'm flying."

"In this situation, you may well be a danger to yourself and others if you're piloting a plane."

I kneaded my forehead. "Okay. I'll quit."

"And perhaps it's time for you to consider your relationship with Milo. Is it really what's best for you?"

"It's what's best for Mae, and that's all I care about."

"Hmm," said the psychologist. I could tell he didn't approve. Well, of course he didn't. No one really understood how I could be in a relationship and have a child with someone I didn't love, had never loved, and would never love. But they simply didn't get that I couldn't possibly love anyone. My heart didn't belong to me, so I couldn't give it to anyone. So why wait around for something that would never come? Milo was well enough.

But he wasn't. I had started to think that he might need some counseling himself. His program had turned into a complete flop as the hole continued to make it unusable and the patch didn't seem forthcoming. He had no patience for me, and less than usual for Mae. It didn't help my situation. I only seemed to get worse.

And then, of course, came the second car wreck. I had it on the way to the supermarket. At least I think I did. I blacked out and found the front of my car smashed against a lamppost. Dr. Hugh checked me out and declared me still physically intact. The psychologist prescribed some medication. It didn't seem to help.

Milo's tolerance finally snapped the day I forgot Mae in the playground. We'd been having fun on the swings. Then I needed to fix supper but she didn't want to leave. I don't exactly remember leaving her, but when I set down the plate in front of Milo, Bindi, and Tita we all looked at Mae's empty booster seat.

"Where's Mae?" asked Milo.

Then came the frantic calls to the police and to all the neighbors. Mrs. Young found her, a bit upset but thankfully unhurt, and brought her home a few hours later.

The next day I walked into the room I shared with Milo and found him packing. Mae played with a few blocks on the floor next to the bed.

"You're leaving?" I asked. I'd expected it.

"Yes," he said without looking at me. "I can't take it anymore. Mae isn't safe with you. There's nothing that makes me angrier than you thinking you can deal with her and putting her life in danger."

I felt as though something big had kicked me in the chest. "You're taking Mae?"

He straightened and faced me. "What other choice do I have? I can't trust you with her, or even around her. If Bindi has any sense she'll move back to her house with Tita. You're a danger to everyone around you, Aliyah."

Tears started to build in my eyes. "I'm trying to get better," I whispered.

"Yeah, well, it's not working. You can't even accept your limitations. What were you thinking of, taking her to the playground by yourself? You could have had another car wreck. Someone could have taken her and we'd never see her again."

Mae looked at him with big eyes. "No shouting," she said.

"Milo, please don't take her. Let me work on it."

"I'm applying to get full custody of her. Maybe once you get better we can work it out differently. For now you have to agree that it's what's in her best interest."

"You can't take her away from me."

"Her life is in danger!" he shouted. "I'm not going to let her get hurt! You're not capable of taking care of her and you know that."



"No shouting!" wailed Mae.

"Milo, you..." I said.

Milo picked up the suitcase and carried it outside. I followed him as he put it in the back of his car and went back in the house.

"She's my daughter! We were just getting to know each other!" I said in desperation.

"She's still your daughter." He put her on his hip. "Unless you want to be responsible for seriously hurting her, get out of the way and let me go."

I choked and moved aside. Mae snuggled against Milo's chest, still upset about the argument.

"Say goodbye to mommy, Mae."

"Bye bye, Lee-lee," she said, waving. "See you later! No shouting," she added, pointing at Milo severely with her little index finger.

"No shouting," said Milo. He gave me a last look before walking out of the room, across the living room, and out the door. I covered my face with my hands as they crossed the bridge, but the tears I'd been about to cry didn't fall. I shook all over.



And then the car drove off. And just like that, Mae belonged to Milo and no longer to me.

My lawyer explained that, with my history, I was highly unlikely to be able to force a change if I contested Milo's custody. She said it was better just to let it lie until I was better.

"Once you've recovered it will be much easier to get joint custody. If an expert thinks you're ready to handle a child you've got a vote of confidence that most people don't."

But how could I get better? How, with Mae gone?



Bindi tried to comfort me. I noticed how much she pushed Tita on me, as if I could fill the void Mae had left with her surrogate sister. It did help a little, although it mostly just served to remind me of how much I missed Mae.



Quitting flight school had been a bad idea in my opinion. I had nothing to distract me from the emptiness of the days. Bindi tried to get me interested in her painting class, in social life, in raising Tita, in anything. The few friends I'd had, though, had very little interest in seeing me. I got distracted easily, which made me a poor conversationalist, and I couldn't disguise the fact that I really had little interest in seeing them.

One evening Bindi informed me that we were going to a party. "I'm going, and you can't sit around moping all day, Leah. It's going to be fun. It's Yvette's birthday party, remember her? She said it was fine if you came. Just get dressed and made up pretty and we'll go."

"I don't feel like it," I said.

Bindi put her hands on her hips. "You have to go. You'll meet a lot of new people and have fun. It'll be good for you. Make a little effort and you'll see you get a big reward."

I finally allowed her to convince me. We needed to wait for the nanny, though. Bindi had put Tita to sleep, put on her dress and forced me into mine, and applied her makeup extremely clumsily. We sat in the living room to wait. Over half an hour had passed and we were going to be late.

"I'll wait for her. You go ahead," I said.

"You won't come," said Bindi.

I sighed. "I promise I will. You have my word, okay? I'll drive over there when the nanny gets here."

Bindi relented after I swore on a few things she requested I swear on. When she was gone I turned on the TV. I had almost no inclination to go to the party, but I would just to please Bindi. I knew how hard it was to deal with this kind of thing from my year or so of watching after her when she'd first come to live with us.

The nanny arrived and I was about to head out the door when Bindi called me and asked me to bring her purse, which she'd forgotten in her room. I climbed the stairs and stepped into my room for the first time in months.

It struck me as something straight out of the past, a room separate from the time/space continuum in the rest of the house and the world. The room hadn't changed at all since I'd used it as a girl. Bindi had kept it just the way it was. I hadn't insisted she change anything, mostly because I was so attached to it. But I hadn't seen it in so long that I'd forgotten what it was like to be standing in the scene of so many things that I'd left behind.

The covers had gotten a little mussed up on the bed, so I straightened them out. It brought back memories of everything. Lying with the sheets over my head when I was eight because I'd imagined the monster under the bed so well. My mother tucking me in when I'd gotten the fever. My father scolding me when Cayden and I had trespassed on old Orson's farm. Me letting Cayden into my room for the first time. Falling asleep on his chest, waking up to his mother's laughter as she tried to fish his dead sister back from the pool. Cayden telling me he'd kill anyone who tried to take me from him. Me laughing, not knowing how it would all turn out. Thinking the future a bright place.



And then it all hit me. The intensity of everything slamming me from the outside, expanding from inside to fill me, made my breath start to come fast and shallow. Dr. Hugh had taught me how to deal with Bindi's panic attacks, so I searched the bathroom for a pile of paper bags we used to keep there for Bindi. We'd used them all up.

I steadied myself against the frame of the door as black began to nip at the edges of my vision. Then the ceiling swung down as I collapsed on the floor.

I came to a few minutes later. I knew because I'd seen a corner of the moon out the window before I passed out, and I could still see it now. I shakily picked myself up and sat on the edge of the bed. Then I pulled out my cell phone.

Most everything else that's happened to me, especially the important things, are clear in my mind still. With the exception of the times I blacked out and didn't remember at the time where I'd been, of course, but this didn't happen then. It's all jumbled in my mind and I'm not exactly sure what I said. All I know is that I left a message on Cayden's answering machine and went out of the house.

I walked to the place where Cayden had nearly let Mae fall off the cliff just a few months past. I went to the edge, intrigued by the way the moonlight played on the surface of the sea below.



I stood there quite a while, turning things over in my head. Considering. The craze had left me a little and I could think more clearly, or I would have jumped off right then. I decided instead to find my way down to the bottom, to the little strip of sand I could see beside the water.

It had rained earlier that day, and the soil that held the grass down on the slopes had become mud. Although I had something of a handle on my own mind I didn't have the sense to take off the heals Bindi had made me wear for the party. I probably would have fallen anyway, but I might not have sprained my ankle the way I did.

All I know is that at some point in my descent my feet stopped being under me and my back slammed against the mud, splashing my hair and face with little cold specks.





I'd dashed my head against a rock as I fell. I watched the stars swirl above me and nauseatingly sunk into unconsciousness.

"Aliyah!"

I pushed through the viscous, sickening gelatin that had filled my head and prevented me from opening my eyes. Waking up had never cost so much effort. Part of me didn't want to. But I managed it, somehow.

"Aliyah!"

I recognized the voice and realized I must have fallen out of the tree Cayden and I were climbing, and he was coming to help me. Why couldn't he find me? We'd both climbed the same tree. He had to have seen me fall.

"I'm here," I said. I didn't know if he'd heard me. My eyes drifted shut again and I heard, or felt through the vibration in the ground under me, Cayden's footsteps as he approached.



"Aliyah," said Cayden from nearby. Somewhere above and beside me. I opened my eyes and saw him kneeling next to me. "Are you hurt?"

"I think I broke my leg. That's what happens when you fall out of a tree, isn't it?" I started to chuckle but the sound caught in my throat and made me cough.

"You didn't fall out of a tree. You fell down the slope."

I looked at him more closely and realized he didn't look fifteen years old. He seemed much older. Ancient. Twenty-five, maybe. Or twenty-six. I blinked, confused at the inconsistency. Then things sorted themselves out in my head, little by little, until I realized that I was twenty-five myself, not fourteen, and I hadn't just fallen out of a tree where Cayden and I searched for spiders. It was dark, not time to be out exploring. And my sense of direction had gotten much worse, it seemed, because I'd never gotten as lost as I'd gotten now.

"Mae..." I said.

"Did you get hurt?"

"My ankle." It didn't just hurt, I realized. It pounded, excruciatingly painful.

Cayden touched it. "I don't think it's broken." His hand went to my face. "What were you doing, Aliyah?"

"How did you know to come?"

"You called me. I got the message when I turned on my phone on the way home from work. It took me three hours to get here and the whole time I thought I'd be too late."

"You're not too late." I touched his cheek. "You saved me."

"I'm going to take you home." He lifted me up in his arms, jarring my ankle. I whimpered and put my arms around his neck, drawn to the security of his strong body.

"Don't let me fall," I said.

"Let you fall?" he said. "I made you fall."



Dawn had started to dye pink the deep blue wool of the sky as Cayden carried me back up the slope, finding firm footholds in the mud.

"How did you get here?"

"I took the bus. I didn't have time to get my car. I'm going to have to carry you all the way home. Are you okay?"

"It's not far," I said. "Not far from home."

My head still swam, and I alternated between pain and semi-consciousness the whole way there. Cayden spoke in a low, soft voice, soothing me. I kept my head on his shoulder and my arms around his neck so that he wouldn't have to take my whole weight with his arms. Despite my difficulties in hanging onto awareness my grip never slackened.

It had already started to get light by the time we went past the wooden fence that bordered the grounds of my house. I could see the way the pond across the street gradually turned golden as Cayden carried me toward the gate, his footsteps coming slowly from what must be exhaustion, although he didn't let his hold on me slip once.



"Do you still think about your sister drowning?" I murmured, watching a fish break the surface of the pond and send little golden droplets of water everywhere.

"Sometimes. Every day."

"What does that mean?"

"Yes. I don't dream about her anymore, though. I used to. Remember?"

"Do you think we get over losing someone? Or do we just get used to not seeing the person anymore?"

"I don't know. I haven't lived long enough to say for sure."

"Long enough." I sighed. "It's only a matter of time, then, I guess. I'll see. Eventually, I'll see. We both will."

He carried me into the house. I expected him to take me to the bed of the master bedroom, since it was closer, but he climbed the stairs and went up to my old room, where he gently laid me down on top of the covers I'd straightened out just a few hours earlier.

I didn't let go of his neck. "Don't go, Cayden."

"I won't."



He looked around. "This place hasn't changed any, has it?"

"I was just thinking the same thing." I laughed. "Do you think it might be time to redecorate it?"

He sighed. "I should never have come back, should I? I should have stayed away for good when I left Bindi."

"No! No, Cayden. You never should have left. We did it all wrong. But we can correct our mistakes, make up lost time. Nothing makes sense without you. Mae is gone, Milo is gone, and I thought it was the end of the world but it isn't, because so long as you're here there is a world, even if there isn't an earth under my feet."

He smoothed back my hair and kissed my forehead. "All the good girls go to heaven, don't they?" He gave a sad smile. "It's the ones like me that pull them down out of it."

"Promise me you won't go."

"Aliyah..." He shook his head, stroking my cheek.

"Promise me you'll never leave again. That's the only way I can live, Cayden. Only if you're with me."

"I promise."

"We're going to be together forever. Forever, remember? That's what we always said. It's going to be true now. We're going to make it true."

"Forever," said Cayden.

"Forever," I said.



I could barely keep myself there anymore, and I started to fade, my eyes closing. Cayden's hold on me relaxed. I realized his warmth had disappeared and tried to lift my head to find him.

"Cayden?" I asked sleepily.



"I'm just going to go call Dr. Hugh for you. He should look at your ankle. And I should find Bindi and tell her you're okay. She'll be freaking out."

"Don't leave me."

"I promise it'll only be for a short while. Then we'll be together for eternity, Aliyah."

Those words echoed around in my skull as I fell asleep, something akin to a lullaby in that it made me forget all my cares and have a long, rejuvenating, dreamless rest. I was safe, in the right place at last. We'd gone astray for years, but we'd fix it now. Yes, it would all be good again, I thought to myself, the self-assurance joining Cayden's words and forming a comforting tapestry in my mind.

When I woke, Cayden had gone. That was the last time I saw him.
Thank you for reading. I will post the last chapter tomorrow.

[mackendall2]

Amazing!  I have enjoyed reading this story so much.  I am sad to see it end tomorrow, but I'm curious to see how you wrap things up. 

[MoonsAreBlue]

Only one more chapter? I can't believe this story is about to end. I was teary-eyed reading the end, but then I got worse when I read it was almost over! You've done a wonderful job with this story, Apples. I really hope you know that.

[loveSims]

You almost have me in tears, it is so sad. I'm going to miss this story. Amazing update.

[alex51299]

I'm literally about to cry. That was such a beautifully written chapter. Maybe he'll come back when we fast-forward to the elder Ailyah?

[seashall]

I'm literally about to cry. That was such a beautifully written chapter. Maybe he'll come back when we fast-forward to the elder Ailyah?

I feel just like alex! 
And it would be a lovely ending if Cayden came back when Aliyah was an elder, as alex also said.

[Sugarnibble]

I have been following this story for quite some time. This is beautifully written and is a truly amazing story.

[ratchie]

This is a beautiful and well written story. For pure emotional depth it ranks up there with Alice and Kev ,which is my all time favorite Sim Story.

I look forward to discovring how you are going to end the story.

Rachel

[ApplesApplesApples]

Chapter 20

What a long day it has been. It seems impossible that only a few hours have passed since I woke this morning with the urge to reminisce. I've gotten a cramp in my leg from sitting here so long, forgetting to move, even forgetting to breathe from time to time. In my mind, I lived a lifetime since breakfast. Did I miss lunch? I don't remember eating, and I'm hungry. I check my watch. Everyone should be arriving soon.

Has thinking back on my life helped me? Has it made a difference? I don't feel as though I've reached some kind of deep understanding. Nothing makes more sense to me now than it did before. I haven't been able to pinpoint whatever it was that led me to where I am now. If I'd made different choices, would I be happier? If fate had thrown the dice differently, would my life be better?

All I know is that, even though for years I resented his decision to leave me, I think Cayden made the right decision at the end. With everything that had happened he couldn't have done any different. We wouldn't have been happy together. It was too late for us.

But going back further, with the benefit of the panoramic view these forty-five years of distance have given me, I can't seem to decide what would have been best. Maybe I'll never know. Maybe I'm not supposed to know. What's the point? I won't find myself in a position to make decisions similar to those again. Experience doesn't afford me any benefit.

I've spent forty-five years alone, and I plan to spend whatever time I have left the same way. Friends and family are enough. I will ignore the hollow inside of me. The missing scoop of the stuff that makes me who I am. Not everyone can be an entire person. If we were all complete we'd live in heaven, not on earth.

I look up and see the car pulling up and Mae and Sam getting out. I smile and get to my feet, stretching out my stiff leg. I've stayed in good shape, so it probably won't bother me once I get moving.

I walk across the bridge to the gate, where Mae, Sam, Tita, and Marcus are gathered.

"Grandma!" says Marcus.

I smile.



"Hi, mom," says Mae.

"Where's Toby?" I ask.

"He's at a friend's house. Lila Orson. He said he'd walk over here. It's just a couple of miles."

"Lila Orson? I didn't know he was friends with her."

"They're not friends. They're special friends." Mae rolls her eyes.

Tita has a sad look. I hug her. "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm okay, Leah. I've been dealing with paperwork all day. I hate having my mom's life reduced to a bunch of paperwork."



"I felt the same way when my parents died." I let her go and hold her at arm's length, looking her over. As a teenager and young woman Tita had resembled a stick, just like Bindi. But she has a full, healthy figure now. At least it seems like she's been eating well these past few days. I still remember when she was sixteen and refused to take a bite for almost five days when her boyfriend cheated on her. Bindi was in hysterics the whole time, consulting with doctors and specialists. Despite that, Tita's never been the sort to get depressed for long. She has her mother's resilience and cheerful nature.

"Lila Orson's ugly," says Marcus. "They're going to make ugly babies."

I laugh. "Are you sure you're not just jealous?"

"I don't need a girlfriend! Girls are dumb."

"Is Lila old Orson's daughter?" I ask.

"Daughter? Old Orson's over eighty. She's his granddaughter. He gave her parents a little plot of land to build their house on the condition that they help him work in the field. They don't, of course. The son and his wife both are lazy, parasitic people."

"I like them," says Sam.

"They're nice, I'm not saying they're not. They're just allergic to work. The older brother is a surgeon, the younger sister a dentist. I don't know what happened to him. I'm hoping Lila doesn't turn out like her father."

"I can't imagine Toby having a girlfriend. She must be tough."

"Oh, she's tough." Mae grins. "She's tougher than he is. I bet I can guess who wears the pants in that relationship."

Marcus starts snickering. I look in the direction he's facing.

There comes Toby, walking leisurely down the middle of the street, wearing his usual backwards baseball cap and a black shirt covered in white skulls.



"There he is now," I say.

Mae turns. "What in the world...?"

"Hi, grandma," says Toby casually as he came up. "Hi, aunt Tita."

"Toby... what are you wearing?" asks Mae.



Toby looks down at his shirt and shrugs. "Just clothes."

"This is a funeral, not a party! You're eighteen years old! It takes a very small amount of finesse to realize that that's not appropriate clothing for a funeral!"

"I guess I don't have finesse."

"Respect, that's what you don't have. How is anyone going to respect you if you don't respect anyone?"

I can barely contain my giggles.



"Come on, it's not that big a deal. It's not like Bindi can see what I'm wearing."

"You're going to get grounded!" says Marcus gleefully.

"Hush, Marcus," says Mae. "You respect a person's memory, Toby, even if they're gone. You respect Tita. You ought to feel ashamed. Don't you care anything about Bindi and Tita?"

"Sure, of course I do." He looks at his shoes. "I didn't mean to upset anyone. I miss Bindi, too."

"Apologize to Tita," says Mae.

"Sorry, aunt Tita."

"It's okay." I can tell Tita's trying hard not to laugh too. "Bindi wouldn't have minded."

"Sam, go get the turkey from the car. I've got to get supper ready. You do have a frying pan, don't you, mom?" says Mae.

"I told you I do."

Sam heads back to the car and the rest of us troop in after her. Mae immediately takes charge of the kitchen, forbidding anyone to help her, even with chopping or washing dishes. Tita and I sit in the living room and talk over Tita's affairs.

"Her old house is just full of her paintings. Piles and piles of canvasses, some of them unfinished. Most of them are pretty good, but there are a few that are excellent. Mostly the ones she did in her fifties and sixties. I know she always wanted a showing at the gallery, and since she never got it I was trying to organize one. It's so hard, though."

"I'll help you," I say. "Don't worry about that now. It can wait. You don't have to take on everything at once, Tita."

"When, then? When's a good time to do everything?"

I don't have an answer for her.

"Oh, there's something else. The money you transferred to me, it's too much. I can't accept it, Leah."

"What money?" I ask, startled.

"I have thirty thousand dollars in my bank account that didn't exist before, plus all my bills are suddenly paid. They told me I couldn't track where the money came from, and I guessed it must be you and you didn't want me to know."

"I didn't transfer any money to you, Tita. My offer still stands to help you with any expenses you might have, but I didn't give you anything."

"Are you sure?"

I laugh. "Maybe my accountant got generous. But it wasn't me. What do you mean you couldn't trace where the payment came from?"

"It was a deposit. They don't have to give a name if they pay in cash."

"Maybe you have a secret admirer."

She smiles. "I don't think so. I don't know any rich and generous men, especially someone who wouldn't tell me it was them that gave me the money. If you're going to give a gift wouldn't you want the person to know who it's from?"

"I don't know. It's a mystery."

"Supper's ready, everyone!" says Mae.

We all sit down to a serving of Mae's delicious turkey dinner, one of Bindi's favorite dishes. Mae used to make it for her. We're all a little sad as we dig in, but soon the taste distracts us from the memories.



"So tell me about Lila Orson," I say to Toby after a while.

"Aw, mom!" says Toby in frustration.

And then a small argument follows, in which Toby acts progressively more embarrassed and angry because Mae revealed his secret relationship.

"It's not a secret," says Marcus. "Everyone at school's talking about it."

"That's just great," says Toby, throwing down his fork and glaring at his plate.

"Relax, Toby. Everyone knows. So what?" says Tita. "Are you happy with her?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" says Toby, blushing deep crimson and puckering up his lips in anger, just like his father does. Not that Sam gets angry very often, but he stole that expression right off of Sam.

"Let's talk about something else, then," I say.

"Oh, mom, the weirdest thing happened to me today," says Mae, setting down her silverware. "I didn't want to tell you over the phone. It's too bizarre; I had to tell you in person."



"You've piqued my interest," I say.

"I was heading into school this morning before classes started to get everything ready and I ran into this man. Well, it was more like I tried to get by him, since I was a little later than I'd wanted to be, and he said 'Hello, are you Mae Terrence?'



"'Yeah,' I said.

"'I'm an old friend of your mother's.' He looked about your age, mom, but he was really handsome."

"Excuse me?" I interrupt, mock-sternly.

Mae laughs. "I don't mean that you're not good-looking, mom. Seventy isn't old at all. I meant and he was really handsome, not but. Okay, so I said: 'Oh, nice to meet you,' and smiled and shook his hand. 'Where do you know my mother from?'

"'From... grade school,' he said.

"'So you go way back, then.'

"'Yes.' He gives a little grin like he's remembering something nice. 'I haven't seen her in quite a long while, though. How is she?'

"'She's okay. A little down, but she's hanging in there.'

"He seemed surprised. 'Why? What happened?'

"'Oh, I'm sorry. I thought, since you said you knew my mom from grade school, that you also knew Bindi.'

"'I did.'

"'You didn't hear? She had a heart attack earlier this week.'

"'Bindi's dead?' I can't describe his expression, mom. He was so shocked. There was also a bit of guilt, it seemed to me.

"'I'm sorry. Were you friends with her, too?'

"He sighed and rubbed his forehead. 'I wouldn't go so far as to call us friends, but we knew each other.'

"'Well, it was a good way for her to go. She didn't suffer, and her daughter Tita was there with her, and her brother Zach and his wife and kids. I'm sure she would've chosen to be surrounded by her family when her time came.'

"'How did your mother take it?'

"'All right. She was sad, obviously, but we'd all known Bindi's health was bad for several years. We were afraid it would be slow and painful, so it was a blessing that it was so quick, really. I'm sure my mom would like it if you went to visit her, though.'

"He smiled. 'I'm pretty sure your mother doesn't want to see me.'

"'I think that if she hated you I would've heard of you.'

"'So you have no idea who I am?'

"'You haven't told me.'

"'Not even a suspicion?'

"'No. Nothing at all.'

"He chuckled. 'I guess that's just as well, then. I can't visit your mother, anyway; I'm just passing through and I don't have time to stop by her house.'

"'That's too bad. Should I tell her something for you?' I asked. I was still intrigued about who he might be, but I didn't press the subject because I assumed he was going to tell me when he told me what message to give you.

"But he said, 'No, that's okay. Don't tell her I talked to you. It'll just upset her. It was nice to meet you, Mae.' He started to go.

"'Aren't you going to tell me your name?'

"He looked back and gave a playful grin. 'That would take the mystery away.'

"I wanted to get him to tell me, but I was really late by then, and the kids were starting to arrive, so I had to go into the building. But he called after me.

"'I'm sorry, Mae.'

"'What for?' I asked, trying to avoid bumping into the kids who were heading inside en masse. He nodded. He wasn't smiling anymore. He seemed kind of sad, really. And he turned away. I really needed to go then and I didn't get a chance to talk to him again, to ask him what he meant. So tell me, mom. Isn't that just crazy? Who do you think it could be?"

I shrug. "It could be anyone. I knew a lot of people in grade school." I take a sip of water to conceal my face for a moment, giving me time to compose myself.

"Well, that's not all. Tell her, Tita," says Mae.

"I saw him, too," says Tita.



"When?" I ask.

"Right after Mae talked to him. I was going to the school building because I'd remembered I still owed her from the last time we went out to eat, and I decided to pay her since I had some money on me then. Mae was going inside and he was turning away from her to leave. Then he saw me and he stopped. It almost seemed like he recognized me."



"Yeah, I got the same sort of feeling," says Mae. "Like maybe he knew me when I was younger, and I don't remember. Are you sure you don't know who he could be, mom? It would probably be someone you were close to a long time ago, and had a falling-out with."

"I'm sorry, no."

"Someone who saw us both as little girls?" she prods.

"I can't think of who it might be."

"Did she say anything to you?" Toby asks Tita. He's been watching us and listening, quite interested. Toby loves a good mystery.

"No. I stopped when I saw him looking, because it was so strange, and then he just headed away down the steps."



"Neither of you recognized him?" asks Toby.

"No," says Mae. Tita shakes her head.

"He's probably a criminal," says Sam, who's been silent up until now. "You should be more careful about who you talk to. He could have been scouting out easy targets."

"He was a seventy-year-old man," says Mae, laughing. "This is an incredibly safe little town. There hasn't been a crime in twenty years."

"You could be the victim of the first crime in twenty years. Someone's always the first victim, and it's probably because they weren't careful enough, thinking their town was too safe for crime."

"Yeah, the headlines will say 'Fifty-year-old schoolteacher found strangled to death with a power cord in her own house,'" says Toby.

"Toby!" says Mae. "How can you say that? I'm forty-eight, not fifty."

"Can I go outside, mom?" asks Marcus, who's been bored to pieces by the conversation.

"No," says Mae, losing her humor and checking her watch. "It's about time we headed over to the beach. We should be just in time for sunset if we leave now."

"Yeah, Bindi will rise from the dead if her ashes aren't spread exactly at sunset," says Sam, and gives a big laugh. It's just the kind of inappropriate, unfunny joke he's always making. I scrape my fork along my plate, trying to keep myself from snapping at him.

"Come on," says Mae, getting up as Sam's laughter starts to die down. We all go out and split up, some of us going to my car and some to Mae's. I ride with Tita, who stares out the window the whole way there, looking lost.

I put my hand on her knee. "If you have to cry, cry, Tita. It's worse if you hold it in."

"I don't think I have to cry," she says. "I'm tired of crying. I'm really exhausted and sick of it. I actually don't feel as sad today as I thought I would. I'm mostly scared. I've been dreading this day all week."

"Don't be afraid." I take her hand and give it a squeeze. "There's nothing to be afraid of, Tita. The dead are gentle sorts."

"I'm afraid of saying goodbye to her."

"Goodbye's just a word. We all have to say it eventually. The memories don't go away when you say it. In fact, they stay forever."

She smiles at me. "Thank you, Leah. I just wish Zach could be here."

"I know he wishes so, too. But he has to be with his daughter for his granddaughter's surgery."

"Is it selfish to want him to come here instead?"

"No, Tita. It's not selfish at all. We're all here for you, though."

Toby parks on the road near the beach and we all get out of the car and start heading down toward the water. Tita heads the procession. The sky and the sea reflect each other, a perfect, serene backdrop for Bindi's final resting place.



Bindi decided a few months ago, when she started having bad health problems, that she didn't want to be buried. Instead she wanted her ashes spread in the sea precisely at sunset. She explained that she'd always wanted to be a sailor, but hadn't been able to because she got seasick. She'd never mentioned a desire to go to sea before, but Bindi was ever one to come up with new things out of the blue and make it seem like they'd been with her all her life. She did come out here quite often to paint after she expressed that wish, especially sunsets. Bindi was never so happy as she was when she painted. Maybe she'd just wanted to transport herself into one of her canvases, to become part of the scenery. For myself I can't imagine a more beautiful way of sending her off.

I stand back a little as everyone gathers around Tita, who holds the ashes over the water. For some reason I find I can't go nearer. No one asks me to. Everyone is too centered on their own little world at that moment, a little world full of the memory of Bindi and the pain of saying goodbye, and no one pays attention to me.



Mae pats Tita on the back. She must have finished spreading the ashes.

And then I get the distinct feeling that someone watches me.

I turn and look toward the cliff behind me. There at the top I see a figure, made tiny by the distance. A white-haired man wearing a black coat.



My heart falls out of my chest. My head pounds. Forgetting everything else I start to run toward the cliff. I stumble several times as loose gravel makes me slip. I didn't imagine him there, did I? I'm not yet that senile. I did spend the day thinking about him, and maybe it's influenced my perception a little. Maybe I saw someone else.

But inside I know. It's Cayden.

I reach the top of the cliff, the same place where the figure stood just a few minutes ago. He's gone. I look around. It's dark, making it entirely possible that he's hiding somewhere, in some shadow, watching me.

Below, the pink fades from the water, replaced by shades of purple, violet, and blue.



"Are you there?" I ask. I get no answer. "Are you there, Cayden?"

I jerk around, hearing a sound behind me. But my eyes see nothing in the gloom.

"Let me see you," I say. My eyes start to fill with tears. "Let me see you."

The minutes pass and nothing happens. I close my eyes. A few tears squeeze out between my lashes, but that's all.

Do I really want to see him? I wonder. If he steps out of a shadow right now and comes and tells me that he loves me, that he hasn't forgotten me, that life has been hell without me, would it help? Would it do anything to fill the hole inside of me? No. Because he'd have to leave again. Because nothing's changed. In all these long years nothing's changed. Trying would only bring more heartbreak. I don't think people were made to love the way we did. When past a certain point it's no longer something that fills you. It's something that burns you up, and brings down everything around you, too. And could I really forgive him? Could he forgive me?

"Thank you for coming," I whisper into the darkness, and climb back down to the beach.

Everyone is gathered at the water's edge, talking. I approach them and hold out my arms. Tita hugs me, and I hug her back.



"It's okay, sweetie," I say. "I'm here for you. Anything you need, Tita."

"Thank you." She trembles a little, but steadies herself before letting me go, and smiles. "You were a wonderful friend to my mom. I hope you know how much she appreciated you."

"I know." I pat her shoulder. "I hope she knew how much I appreciated her."

"What are we going to do now?" asks Marcus.

"Now?" I grin. "We're going to do what Bindi would have wanted us to do. We're going to have fun!"



Sam throws up his hands. "I give up, Mae. Your mother's crazy. Come on, boys. Let's go see if we find a snake."

He, Marcus, and Toby run off. I look at Mae. Someday soon I'll tell her everything. I'll tell her how I should have fought Milo for custody of her. How I should have worked harder to rebuild our relationship. How I should never have resented her for not being the daughter of the man I loved. How glad I am to have her as a daughter. How proud I am of her. I'll tell her all about Cayden, whose name she's never even heard. I'll tell her that at this moment I feel the hole inside of me beginning to heal over. It's been an open wound for forty-five years but now, at last, I've finally realized how to fill it back up.

Someday I'll tell her. Hopefully soon. Maybe tomorrow.

I lean forward and whisper in her ear, loud enough for Tita to hear, too, "Do you think we could work on getting rid of that husband of yours?"



Tita laughs. Mae and I giggle.



"No, mom," says Mae. "I wouldn't change him for the world."
Thank you, everyone, for sticking with me to the end. I hope you enjoyed my story. It's been an amazing experience for me, one that I'll cherish for a long time.

Love,

ApplesApplesApples

[Trentorio]

Thank you for writing such an unapologetic story. I can't think of anything else to say besides that.

[sdhoey]

That was a wonderful story. Thanks for sharing it with us.