Chloe (26 page)

“Everyone,” he begins. The din dies down as all the guests
turn their faces attentively towards him. “Thank you all for coming. I don’t
know how many of you have seen the newspapers. ‘Passion on the Cross’ has
topped the movie chart for 8 consecutive weeks.” The room applauds. Chloe
beams.

“We have received thousands of fan email from people whose
lives have been changed. So far, over 3 million people worldwide have received
the Lord Jesus Christ in response to the film’s message.” The room applauds
again. Chloe blushes fiercely, but cannot contain her grin.

James continues, “We have letters from people who were
contemplating suicide. Alcoholics, drug addicts, prostitutes, criminals—all
turning away from sin, and turning to the Lord instead. The question has often
been asked, can one man,” with a glance at Chloe, “or one woman, make a
difference? Well, I tell you all—Yes. Jesus did. My beautiful fiancée Chloe
did.” James brandishes his glass towards her in a toast. “To Chloe.”

Everyone else raises their glasses too, chanting her name in
a collective echo. They all drink. In the midst of the excitement, Chloe sees
her mother standing near the door. The sight is sobering. She has not spoken to
Cleopatra in over a year. Chloe sets her glass aside, strides across the room,
and meets the woman at the door. Her mouth works for a moment, brows knit
together in earnest.

“Hi mom,” she eventually manages.

Cleopatra manages a weary smile in return, as though she does
not do it often. Then again, she rarely did it even when they saw each other on
a daily basis. “You look different,” she says. Chloe has trouble deciphering if
it is a compliment or a backhanded insult. But she is so relieved to see her
mother that she pays it no mind.

“So do you,” Chloe says with a growing, genuine smile. It’s
true. Cleopatra looks a lot better. She looks younger, happier, and healthier.

Cleopatra nods. She swallows thickly, glancing aside before
she meets Chloe’s eyes again. “Rehab,” she admits. Chloe is floored. “It has
that effect on people.”

They stare at one another. So much hangs in the air, but
only one thing needs to be said. To Chloe’s surprise, it comes from her
mother’s mouth.

“I miss you.” Tears spring to Chloe’s eyes. Chloe instantly
hugs her. Cleopatra embraces her tightly. They stay that way, supporting one
another, physically and emotionally, for the first time. “I really appreciate
what you have done.”

Chloe laughs tearfully. “I want to do so much more.”

Cleopatra pulls back, sliding her hands down Chloe’s arms to
grasp her daughter’s hands. She takes a deep breath. “I’ve said and done things
I’m not proud of—”

Chloe shakes her head, squeezing her mother’s hands tightly.
“All we have from now on is this moment. Right now, I’m happy. All ma’ favorite
people are here now. No need to spoil it. I forgive you, mom.”

Cleopatra stares at her with a strange sad gleam in her
eyes, far enough away that it could be misinterpreted as a trick of the light.
There is something hidden there, a secret known only to herself in the farthest
reaches of her heart. Chloe presumes it has something to do with love. She
cannot handle that at this moment. No more tears.

“There is something I need to tell you,” Cleopatra starts.

“It can wait.” Chloe pulls her into the party. Chloe starts
introducing her to her guests who receive her with warmth and enthusiasm. They
talk sparingly of their home town, but nothing of their past relationship. If
Chloe has her way, no one will ever broach that subject again.

In this moment, everything is perfect. Everything is put
right again, like so many pieces of a puzzle. All is well until half an hour
later, when James carries a cell phone to Chloe.

“There is someone on the phone for you,” he supplies. “She
says her name is Meryl.”

Chloe blinks several times, frowning softly. Her mind reels.
“I don’t know any Meryl.” But at the same time, the name strikes an odd cord in
her. It is as though she has seen an image from a past life, something she was
supposed to remember, but forgot. Something about an extra mile…

James laughs. “Honey, you don’t know 99% of the people who
know you now.” Chloe rolls her eyes and playfully snatches the phone out of his
hand. She takes the phone and excuses herself from the group and her mother,
leaving her in James’ care for the time being. He acts just as pleased to see
her. Even if it is all for show, Chloe deeply appreciates it.

Chloe stands overlooking the city on their balcony. She puts
the phone to her ear. “This is Chloe,” she answers.

The voice on the other end of the phone is rather sullen and
impatient. “Not sure if you remember me, but a while back you came to the
police station enquiring about an accident that happened over two decades ago.”
Meryl pauses.

It all comes barreling back to her. Chloe stands straighter.
She starts to nod as if Meryl can see her. Breathlessly, “Yes.”

“Great,” says the woman. Her tone of voice changes slightly,
steeped in something uncomfortable. “Well, I have something for you.”

“What did you find out?” Chloe asks, bracing her hand on the
balcony railing.

Meryl pauses, as though she is deciding between telling her
or not. “Come see me at the station,” she finally states. “And don’t wait too
long.” The phone clicks, meaning the woman has put it back on the receiver. A
dead tone follows. Chloe is strangely reminded of a pulse monitor at the
hospital and the flat line that follows cardiac arrest. It’s a long, seamless
beep, signifying the end of something.

Chloe stares at her cell phone for a moment, perplexed and
in a fog. She turns to see James shouldering the doorway, looking back at her
in his suit and tie. He tries to prompt her with a confident smirk. He clearly
wants a signal that everything is ok.

He doesn’t get one.

•

Chloe is in her bedroom, packing a bag when Cleopatra
appears in the doorway. James is behind the bathroom door, taking a shower to
cleanse the night’s festivities from his person. They invited Cleopatra to stay
in the guest room tonight. It seemed like the family thing to do.

“Where are you going?” Cleopatra asks, watching her daughter
mill about the room and seize a pair of low heels from her closet.

“Home,” Chloe replies, adopting a half-hearted smile. She
starts laying out her outfit for the morning.

“Why?” her mother continues. She cannot fathom any reason
for her to return.

“I have a meeting with someone tomorrow,” she explains. “I
have some business to take care of back there. But it won’t take long and I
will be back here by the weekend.”

“Oh. Do you have a place to stay?” Cleopatra poses.

Chloe replies without thinking, “We will probably stay at
Kathleen’s.” She glances up just in time to see her mother’s crestfallen
expression. “It is the closest to the precinct,” she adds quickly, battling
guilt.

Cleopatra’s brows knit together curiously. “The police
station? Why would you need to go there?”

Chloe kicks herself. She sets her lips into a thoughtful
line, her mind racing to conjure a feasible explanation for the involvement of
the police. She does not want to remind Cleopatra of Patrick, not after she has
come so far. “James got a few speeding tickets last year. We want to get them
resolved and dismissed.” Her conscience pinches her for lying.

Cleopatra seems appeased. She folds her hands before her. “I
still need to talk to you about something,” she remarks.

Chloe faces her, folding a shirt for the third time. “It’s
alright mom. Let’s just leave all that stuff behind us. It really doesn’t
matter anymore.”

“But,” the woman starts.

Just then, James opens the bathroom door, striding out in
nothing but a towel. A thin mist of steam rolls out of the door and off his
well-muscled physique. Seeing Cleopatra, he wheels around and races back inside
with a look of alarm.

“Sorry! I didn’t know there was anyone else in there,” he
says, his voice muffled from behind the wood. Chloe shakes her head. The poor
boy is probably scarred for life. James is a pretty shy person in general and
is not about to parade his half naked self in front of his soon to be mother-in-law.

The girls chuckle. “We can talk about it another time,”
Cleopatra relents. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight mom,” Chloe replies, mirroring her adoring smile.
She sees her off.

•

“Salutations, beautiful fiancée. Are you coming to
breakfast?” James asks with an impish smirk, peeking around the doorjamb
roughly three hours before their flight. “Your mom made some pretty great
cinnamon toast!” He wiggles his eyebrows.

Chloe smiles at him, touched by the glee in his eyes and her
mother’s actions. “Yeah. I’ll be down there in a second.” James grins boyishly
and hurries away. Chloe can hear segments of their conversation. She can smell
the coffee and cooking too. Her mouth waters, but there is still one more thing
left to do.

Chloe shifts her body to kneel at the edge of her bed. She
folds her hands and bows her head. “Hey there God,” she begins.

Chloe has never been staunch about prayer. She speaks to God
much like she is speaking to a friend. The ceremony of it all still frightens
her, as evidenced by the time she attended Kathleen’s service and the
congregation chanted back after her. Christianity, Chloe believes, is a
personal relationship. Not that there is anything wrong with structure, except
for the creepy element.

“It’s me again. I know I talk to you a lot. I don’t know if
you have the ability to get annoyed, but it would come as no surprise to me if
you were.” It is true. Chloe prays often these days, at least three times a day
if not more. She prays in times of stress and tranquility. She prays for
herself and all manner of other people. Sometimes, Chloe prays for nothing at
all. She just feels like chatting.

“Anyway. I wanted to thank you for bringing ma’ mom home to
me and for healing her. I can see the difference and I know you had a hand in
that. Please help me to reach her about you. I don’t know if she believes, but
I really want her to. Help me to know what to say to her.”

Chloe grins, reminded of something else to be immensely
thankful for by the rock on her finger. She wiggles giddily.

“And thank you for giving James the
galls
to
propose.” Chloe flushes darkly. Did she seriously just say
galls
to the
Lord Almighty? Her eyes snap open before she shuts them again, clutching her
hands tightly to make amends for her mistake. “I mean, the
courage
.”

That is
definitely
the word she was looking for.

“He did such a great job and he makes me so happy. I know
you brought us together and kept us together, Lord. Please continue to do so,
as long as it be your will. I want to have a marriage that means something with
a man who will last.” She nods purposefully.

“Thank you for the success of the screenplay. Thank you for
making ma’ dreams come true. And yeah. I think that’s about it. I’m going to go
eat breakfast now. Talk to you soon. Amen.” Chloe quickly rises to her feet and
hastens out the door.

She descends the stairs, greeted by a scene she never
expected to have the privilege of witnessing. Cleopatra and James are sitting
together at the dining room table, smiling. Smiling like a real family.

Chloe and James catch a flight back home. Chloe is quite
accustomed to airplanes by now and finds the trip to be relaxing. She and James
sit together in first class. James holds her hand for most of the flight while they
sip on cocktails and discuss their plans for the future. James’ career as an
architect is progressing. He has found a good location to establish a firm and
several promising offers for jobs. Everything is going seamlessly.

When they arrive at the station, they are shown to Meryl’s
corner. They sit down at Meryl’s desk after Chloe introduces James. The police
station looks precisely the same as Chloe remembers it, as though nothing has
changed. Meryl has not aged a day. There is still the same din of activity too.
She scans through a file, sifting and sorting through various papers and print
outs.

“I had totally forgotten about you,” she starts, which gives
Chloe cause enough to frown. She put a lot of faith in Meryl back when the
woman agreed to go the extra mile for her case, only to find out she forgot.
She should have expected that. Meryl, undaunted, continues, “But I was cleaning
my desk and came across your contact information. Took me a while to place it.”

“Can you just tell us what you found?” Chloe prompts,
wanting to come to the point so she can still find the heart to thank her for
her time.

Meryl purses her lips for a moment longer. She removes a
photograph from the folder, slides it across the table, and places it before
Chloe, who balks. James recognizes the subject in the photo too. It’s a picture
of a younger Kathleen Jones.

“That’s my mom,” he states.

Meryl nods in a way that suggests she already knows this.
Chloe and James’ engagement is no big secret. The whole town has heard of it,
if not most of the civilized world because of all the publicity surrounding
Passion on the Cross. “I’m sorry about your loss, although by now you must have
gotten over it.” She sits back, steepling her fingers.

James blinks, drawing his face into a frown. “…My loss?”

•

It is raining hard. Patrick’s car is speeding down the
highway towards the hospital. He receives the text message. His car begins to
drift into the wrong lane when he reaches over to read it. He looks up at the
blaring sound of a horn, seeing the truck barreling towards him. They collide
head on.

Meanwhile, Kathleen is behind the wheel of another car,
coming up fast behind Patrick’s. In the commotion, her car is also hit. She
dies instantly from the impact when her car flips over Patrick’s and rolls down
the road, leaving a trail of metal across the unforgiving asphalt.