His Wounded Light (37 page)

I turn to Ali to say goodbye, resolved not to cry in front of the children. “Thank you,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against hers and holding her face in my hands. “I’ll see you guys in a month. Please don’t forget Sophie’s flowers every Friday. I asked Emmy to make sure that they trim the grass around there on weekends and water the plants while they’re there. I left Eddie’s camp schedule for Alex and I’ll send it to you as well.”

She nods her head and kisses my forehead. “Take care of yourself, Isa. Hurry back. We’ll be waiting.” She gathers the children by their hands, turns around and speaks before she walks away. “Remember, you’re a secret agent on a mission to find my sister and bring her back. The way she was before.”

“No one can fix your sister but herself. And I’m going to knock her on the head as soon as I find her and make sure that she does just that,” I promise her with so much conviction.

My eyes fill with tears as I watch them blend into the crowd and the lounge doors slide to a close after them. I sag back into my seat and stare out through the glass at the huge aircraft that’s waiting to take me away. I know Dr. Pressler is right, but I’ll miss them. Eddie and Maddy are the only ones who have kept me going through all these lonely months. I don’t need time away from them, I need time with them. I’m afraid that this time away may only deepen the emptiness that I’m feeling inside of me.

I haven’t been able to speak to Alex since he’s arrived from the States. I was afraid that hearing his voice would cause me to regress and weaken my resolve to finally accept things as they are. I think of the last few times that I saw him. Since he’s been in the States, I took over single parent duty as we managed basketball games and playdates and Eddie’s middle school commencement ceremony. He wanted so much to be here but his doctors didn’t want him to leave until he was fully recovered. The Aileys have been out in full force, making sure that they’re present in every aspect of the children’s lives. They are a blessing to me, God’s way of giving in place of what He took. I wonder how Alex is doing and whether or not he has finally found peace. I wish I could say that I have it. Maybe going away will push my face into my turmoil and force me to confront it head on.

Just as the pre-boarding announcement is made, I bend down to gather up all my things and slip my laptop back into its case. I line up where the Priority Access sign starts and slowly make my way to the gate agent to hand her my boarding pass. As soon as I pass the barriers into the jet way, my phone dings with a text message from Alex.

TEXT FROM ALEX: I need your light back in my life. Please don’t leave me. Don’t give up on us.

I stop abruptly and spin around. I’m speechless and confused, and I don’t know what to do. I pace a few steps up the jet way, back towards the ticket agent. He’s sitting in his wheelchair parked at the end of the line, holding my gaze as my eyes meet his. His eyes are glowing; the same blue ocean that held my heart all the years we loved each other.

Years ago, at the height of my indie book obsession, Alex challenged me to do a team read of
Wuthering Heights
with him.

“Of all books, why this book? And a team read?” I asked him, aggravated that he was once again slamming my choice in Indie books.

“Well, team read because you and I are a team. If you don’t like it, I won’t like it either. But I thought we should read it to each other. Take a break from your swoony books and go back to a classic. I hear the sex scenes are epic.”

There were no sex scenes but there are lines I will always remember. One in particular incited many a discussion between us.

Slowly, I turn my back and walk away, but not before responding to his message.

TEXT FROM ISABEL: Let me go so I can let you in.

***

“Is it really so that the one I love is everywhere?”

—Rumi

Paris. About a year ago, we called it The City of Love. Now, it’s just the City of Lights. Ironically, that phrase was coined because Paris was the center of education during the Age of Enlightenment. Or at least that was one of the theories. I’d like to think that I’m here for some of that understanding. I’m here, alone, to accept my new life and embrace it. I choose a hotel right behind the Champs-Élysées, a few blocks away from the Arc de Triomphe. It’s right outside my window. Eddie and Maddy checked it out the other day when I held my laptop outside my balcony to show it to them. Maddy squealed and said her new favorite word, “wow!” at least ten times as I panned the camera around to give them a glimpse of the famous monument.

Today marks the second week of my stay and I feel different. Last night was the first time I went to sleep without shedding any tears, and this morning was the very first time that I woke up without thinking of him. This is a huge milestone for me, considering the wide range of emotions that I’ve been through since I arrived. I haven’t found the strength to visit our places yet, but my goal is to do so before I get on the plane to go home. I want to go back to the children and be the mother that they deserve. To do that, I must leave everything behind here, no matter how long it takes for me to do it.

I have received a quite a few calls from people back home in the past few weeks. Jesse called only once to check up on me. He is such a good friend, although I know that he and I will never have the chance to really get to know who we’ve become in the past twelve years. I can tell that he’s sad about this, but I also know that he’s at peace with his decision. He and Rose are so happy together. Pretty soon, he will be climbing mountains, visiting haunted houses and changing diapers. I am so happy for him. I glance at the clock on the left side of my bed and smile to myself. The laptop is going to ring in 3…2…1. I lean over and click on the little green icon.

“Hi,” I greet him. Today I’m truly happy to hear from him and give him a big wave.

“Hi, angel. How are you this morning?”

Lucas called the day I arrived to tell me that he wanted to start getting to know me again, that he thinks we’re worth a fighting chance. I don’t make any commitments, I don’t make any promises, but I’m always open to having new friends.

“I’m really good, Lucas. How are you?”

“I’m good. Just making my daily call to a beautiful woman in Paris. You’re perfect even when you just get out of bed.”

“I feel different,” I respond shyly.

“What’s on the agenda for today? Are you going to the Louvre like you’ve been wanting to?”

“Not today. I’ll make it there eventually. I think I’m going to church and then staying around the area.” I still can’t go anywhere near that place. Not yet.

“Any more waiters giving you their phone numbers?” he teases.

“Ha. I shouldn’t have told you that. I’ll never hear the end of it. It’s amazing how I project the lonely single woman vibe everywhere I go.” I wave my hands in the air and giggle. Each and every time I’ve gone to a restaurant, the waiter has slipped in his phone number as he hands me the receipt. I haven’t gotten this many numbers in my entire life.

“Well, I don’t blame those poor waiters. And let’s do something about that vibe when you get back.” He smiles and I nod my head uncomfortably, knowing I don’t want anything more than a friendship with him.

“Thanks so much for calling. I’m going to get started on my day. Talk soon?”

“Yup! I’ll check in with you later. Miss you, Isa. Take care of yourself. I love you.”

He doesn’t love me. Smitten, probably. But not in love. Love takes so much more than a few nights in bed and a few hours of conversation. In the past six months, I have also learned that it means many things to many people. For the longest time, I thought that love meant staying and persevering. Today, I know that love is living, giving, believing and letting go. Sometimes it even takes twelve years for you to question whether or not you ever really had it.

“Kay! Bye, Luke.” I blow him a kiss and wave furiously again, then push my computer away and scoot out of the bed without looking back.

An hour later, I am walking along the cobblestone streets on the way to the main road, feeling energized. It’s a chilly day in April, almost one year since I was last here. I’m a creature of habit, so my morning routine consists of having a croissant and hot chocolate at the huge drugstore on the corner before doing anything else. After breakfast, I cross the street over to the stairs that will take me to the underground train. I’m going to head over to the Rive Gauche station for a scheduled trip back to Versailles. I don’t know why I choose to return there. It’s my second to last stop in accepting things as they are now. The memories of last year’s visit are fading, but Paris will never be Paris if I don’t force myself to experience these places on my own.

There are only two places I want to see while I’m here: the Hall of Mirrors and the Palace Gardens. While in the Hall of Mirrors, I keenly observe lovers as they stroll up and down the hall admiring the gilded carvings and exquisite chandeliers. I feel detached and disconnected, as if I’ve forgotten what it feels like to be one of them. Maybe it’s because I’m getting stronger. It saddens me to think that I’m no longer the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve. Like deep cuts in the process of healing, maybe it needs to grow new skin to protect it before it’s ready to take the plunge again.

Some of the couples are so focused on each other that they don’t really care much about their surroundings; others are so bored out of their trees that their glossy eyes have me imagining how they’re probably obsessing about the lunch menu that is going to be served as part of the tour. As for me, I’m remembering his playful jokes and his constant teasing as we walked through the palace hand in hand. “Isa, they remind me of your grandma’s house,” he had said. “I wonder if she compares herself to Marie Antoinette.” I begin to stroll through these halls with a smile on my face, realizing that these memories now bring me comfort.

Thirty minutes later, I am happy to be back in the outdoors, moving with a group of people who, like me, have scheduled a bike tour of the gardens. We didn’t do this the last time we were here and I’m happy for a new memory, a new experience. Without him. The fountain, the music, the manicured lawns and a picnic along the Grand Canal—all part of the tour, all without him in it. After all is said and done, there’s really not much to debate about the fact that I have to start seeing the world through my eyes and not my heart.

I don’t arrive back at the hotel till almost 7:00 pm. I take my time unpacking the goods I picked up at the Versailles market—some fresh fruits for my stay, a few tiny trinkets for my sisters, and some jams and jellies for our home. Maddy can really eat those strawberry jam sandwiches. I miss her terribly and am just pulling out my cell phone so I can look at photos of her sweet face when it starts to ring. It’s my sisters on FaceTime.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Iss. It’s us, just calling to chat for a few minutes.”

“Perfect timing! I just got back from my tour.” I place the phone on the ground while I finish arranging the last of the jams in my suitcase.

“What are you doing?” Evie starts to laugh. “Why are we on the floor looking up at your ceiling?”

I take the phone and plop down on the couch. “Sorry, I was putting away the stuff I bought.”

Ali’s face comes into view. “Okay, so tell us how things are going. Any more offers for a threesome?”

“Haha. No. That was so weird. Forget I even told you about it.” Twice last week, at a bar by the opera district, I was approached by strangers with very interesting propositions, one from a couple who lead a very unusual life.

“That’s what happens when you’re single and beautiful in Paris. Frankly, I’m glad that this is happening. There’s a whole world out there, Isa. You need to get back in it.” You already know who’s saying this. The woman with all the wisdom. Chief Advisor Extraordinaire. Evie.

“Are the babies with you?” I ask excitedly, still staring into the phone at Ali, who is making funny faces at me.

“No, they’re with Anthony tonight. How was the tour? And did you buy that purse you wanted?”

“Okay, one question at a time. Yes, I bought it. Hold on, let me show you.” I walk over to my closet and pull a purse out of a flannel dust bag. I point the camera to it and glide it back and forth so my sisters can see the full view. I caress its leather surface jokingly and give it a big kiss.