Lulu's Loves (28 page)

“I mash the potatoes, I don’t mind them cooked in with the meat, but I want them mashed. I see that rock on your finger. Thought you were proposing in the woods at daylight,” she said, directing the comment to Micah.

“I just couldn’t wait,” he said, his smile radiating. He turned to me and added, “Ms. Walden and I have been talking for weeks.”

“My daughter, Darcy will be here with a Boston Crème Pie in a few minutes. I knew you couldn’t wait.” Her smile was like a mother’s love. “When she walked in the door, I saw your face. I knew it wouldn’t wait until morning. Thank you for sharing this occasion with me.”

After the Boston Crème Pie, Micah and I went out to the porch to sit on the steps. We sat close together. With his arm around me, we counted stars, pointing out the constellations we could recognize. It was dark and the sky so clear, but I’m quite sure that what I saw was more than God’s display. I saw different stars because I was so happy. This man would soon be my husband.

“I’m still reeling from all of this,” I said. He glanced my way and smiled. “Not that I didn’t think about a future with you, because I hoped there would be. I just didn’t know when we’d figure it out.”

“I’ve just been waiting on you, and then I was waiting on the right moment. Every morning I wake up before you, and I know that ring is in my safe at work waiting. I couldn’t wait. I love you, Lulu.”

We sat in the quiet. I was imagining our wedding. I knew I didn’t want a big wedding, but I had to keep his family in mind as we made any plans. They were big, loud, and proud. I smiled thinking of them.

“It’s our wedding, not theirs,” he smiled.

“When did you start reading minds?”

“I just know that one,” he said and tapped my temple with a finger. “Lulu, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth.”

We sat on the porch a while longer and finally went inside. There was a note from Ms. Walden on the table.

Lock the door. Turn off the light. Sunrise is at 6:12. Follow the path I’ve drawn for the best viewing spot. It’ll be chilly, take a sweater. Sleep well. My place is in the back of the house.

“I think she told us she’s at the back of the house, so we don’t feel inhibited.” Micah’s smile warmed my soul.

He took my hand and led me up the stairs. We undressed and crawled in the bed. The man I loved held me in his arms, his fingers lightly drawing circles on my back.

What happened next was the most beautiful lovemaking I could ever imagine. It was slow. It was romantic. It was Micah showing me love like I never knew was even possible.

This man. I couldn’t live without this man.

I heard a soft beeping sound and turned to find Micah trying to stop it. “Good morning,” he said, wrapping me in a hug.

“Sunrise already?”

“Soon, come on.”

We dressed and went out the door following the map Estelle Walden had drawn for us. There was a mist on the water as the light of day was beginning to illuminate the sky. There were ducks on the pond, and I heard birds calling out.

“Listen,” I said, squeezing Micah’s hand.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Isn’t it beautiful?”

We found a downed tree and sat to watch the golden hues of daylight breach the tree line.

“It’s amazing,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

We sat there in the quiet, the ducks on the lake waking their neighbors with their calls that morning had arrived.

Micah finally stood. Taking my hand, he pulled me to my feet. We walked a bit and found a sign with the famous quote from Thoreau’s book,
Walden
.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.” 

“I couldn’t have done it,” I said aloud.

“Done what?” Micah asked.

“Come out here alone. I mean, this is an amazingly beautiful place, but he came here to be alone to live, to prove that he could, I guess. He needed solitude in order to focus on his writing, prove his individualism, and to live off the land. It wasn’t even his; it belonged to Ralph Waldo Emerson. Did you know that? Thoreau was an environmentalist, a critic, and an abolitionist. He was a smart, sad man, who came here to see what life could teach him.”

“His works weren’t what interested me, it was his love of this,” I swept my hand toward the pond. “His passion for this…the changes in seasons from one to the next…that’s what I love. It was on my bucket list, and you know me well enough to know that. I love this place.”

We walked around the lake as the day came alive.

“Thoreau makes you know the beauty of nature, seeing it is the best reward.
‘In her midst I can be glad with an entire gladness.’
No one but my dad ever got that about me. Keelin focuses on the structure of things. He knows the great works, but he’s told me that he rarely finds the passion that I do. I could make every student I ever teach want to come to this spot, because of Thoreau. Thank you for bringing me in the fall. The colors are a different kind of alive than the springtime. Listen.”

“Loons?” he asked.

“No, listen closely. Can you hear the sweep of the paddles on the water?” He looked around just as a canoe came into view.

“I heard that because of the quiet. How awesome it would be to be out on the water in that quiet. Look over there, it’s like a painting.” I pointed toward the woods across the pond. The way the sunrise touched the trees was an explosion of color, and the water reflected the same.

When we got back to the house, Micah disappeared, while I got ready for whatever the day held. When I came out of the bathroom, he had a tray with muffins and coffee.

“Dinner is at seven, chicken pot pie, and tomorrow, we’re up and out early, we have to be at the pond at five to meet the guy who’s dropping off the canoe.” His smile was all I needed in the world.

When we returned home, there was loud reverie waiting. Fi had reached out to my dad and Keelin, and a party waited that evening when we got to her house. Micah warned me, but I was so happy that nothing could bring me down.

My dad cried as he held me. Hell, everyone cried, but it was my dad’s tears that brought my own. He was happy. We were bombarded with questions of when, where, and all of that. Micah graciously told them we hadn’t had time to think about that yet. Everyone had suggestions, but I knew as we would make our plans, it would be small and meaningful. No circus, and I knew that would disappoint his sisters, but I heard him reassure me that this would be our wedding, not theirs.

We were planning the wedding for June, as soon as the semester was over. Micah was getting things in place to move into the house with me. We were moving things around, happily making room for him and the beginning of our life together. His sisters kept asking about the church for a big Catholic wedding; I continued to tell them that wasn’t what we were doing. I wasn’t ready to change my beliefs just to marry into the family. Micah and I talked about it a great deal. We talked about everything.

“Just so I know where we stand,” he said one evening as we ate dinner. “Tell me about our family going forward.”

“You mean children?” I asked, and he nodded. I pushed my empty plate aside. “I hope we will have children, but not four or six or eight.”

“As long as there is one, I’m good. I can’t imagine the life ahead of us without you and I creating at least one.”

“You know I lost one.” I’d told him about Thom and the baby we made.

“I do know, but it doesn’t matter.”

“But what if I can’t have children. What if something is wrong with me? What if I can’t get pregnant?”

“We will leave that in God’s hands, as long as we aren’t doing anything to prevent it.” Suddenly, the idea of a tiny Micah made me happy.

We made lists of people and places. We were narrowing down a location for the wedding. Once that was secured, we could set the exact date. It was all coming together.

March 2011

I was standing in the lecture hall when I saw Keelin come in the side door. The dean was at his side, and he motioned for me to join him as she went to the head of the hall. He took my hand and I felt his tremble.

“What is it?” My dad was all I could think of.

He didn’t say a word. I felt fear and panic bubbling in the pit of my stomach. I thought I would be sick.

“Keelin!”

Once we were in the teacher’s lounge, he led me to the sofa and cradled me in his arms.

“Micah…” he began.

“Micah what?” I screamed.

“There was a terrible accident.” He was crying. “Micah is gone.”

“What do you mean, gone? “I wailed and fell into his arms. “What do you mean?”

Everything was spinning out of control. I was reaching for Micah, but he wasn’t reaching back. He looked sad and distant. I frantically called out his name over and over. ‘Micah! Micah! Micah!’

I yelled for him to come back. ‘Please don’t go! Come back to me!’ I cried out to him not to leave me, but then it was dark and I couldn’t see him any more.

I cried out again, professing my love for him. ‘Micah. I love you! Come back. I love you!’ But he couldn’t hear me. It became a muffled, hollow cry. I tried, but I couldn’t crawl back from the hole I’d fallen into. It was lonely and I was afraid…

I opened my eyes and looked around. I was lying in my bed at home, at my dad’s house. I saw my dad beside me. He’d pulled a chair close, and his head was laying on the edge of the bed. I turned and Keelin was in a chair in the corner watching. As I stirred, my dad lifted his head. He’d been crying, and then it all came back to me in a rush. Tears that I had no control over came like a faucet.

“Why?” I cried out. “WHY?”

My dad took my hand, but all he could say was my name, “Lulu.”

Keelin sat up straight and scooted the chair closer. I sat up, wiping my eyes. My head felt as though it would explode.

“Rest,” Keelin said, lovingly petting me.

I lay there trying to comprehend, trying to remember. I remembered him trying to tell me about the fall before I blacked out. “How long have I been here?”

“Just long enough for the sedative they gave you to wear off,” my dad replied. “A couple of hours.”

“What happened?  I need to know. I know you were trying to tell me before,” I cried.

“Lulu, not now,” my dad begged. “Not now.”

“I have to know!”

Dad looked to Keelin.

“Are you sure now is the best time?” he asked, scooting closer to the bed, taking my hand in his, holding it to his cheek.

“No time will ever be the best time. I have to know…” My voice trailed off to a whisper.

“It’s still early. Fiona said there’s only a preliminary report; they’re still investigating.” He paused. “Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“I have to hear it.”

“The house he was working in had an open beam…Are you sure, Lulu? It’s bad.”