Paint It Black

by Jake Rivers ©

 

AuthorÕs Note:

 

This has long been one of my favorite songs; it has such anelemental rhythm that you can feel the song.  There has been a lot of speculation over the years aboutÒwhat does it mean?Ó but little agreement.  This story is what I feel as I hear the song.

 

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards wrote ÒPaint It BlackÓ with theassistance of other members of the band, especially Bill Wyman and Brian Jones.

 

Thanks to Techsan for his editing support  - without his aid readers would beliterally swamped with a plethora of misplaced commas and semicolons. 

 

 

I see a red door and I want it paintedblack

 

Because of some quirk in human nature we always seem to rememberwhat we were doing when some life-altering event happens.

 

For me, well, it turned out I was doing something stupid andtrite.  We had just finished amajor project at work and everyone on the team was given a week off.  Half were to go one week and the otherhalf the next.

 

I remembered my boss, Wayne, pleading with me, ÒDamn, Jim.  I know you have worked even more hoursthan I have on getting the new disk array out the door.  But, Jim, IÕm having problems withJudy.  I swear if I donÕt take herto Maui ASAP sheÕll either leave me or kill me!Ó

 

I laughed at him, making him sweat a little.  Jen and I had been living together fortwo years and we were close to making a decision to make things permanent.  IÕd already talked to her and we justwanted to spend a lot of time together and make some plans.  She didnÕt care which week I had off.

 

ÒJeez, Wayne, I donÕt know. Jen might have already made plans. Let me think É aw, shucks, Wayne, youÕve been such a good boss IÕll letyou take the first week.Ó

 

Wayne was so happy he didnÕt even call me an ass for jerking his chain.

 

So when I got the call from my neighbor, Ben, I was diligentlyworking on a problem of strategic importance to the company É well, I wasplaying solitaire.  I was tryingfor a personal record of three games in a row when the phone rang.  I almost didnÕt answer it since I toldeveryone that was working that day to take a long lunch and I would stay andcover in case some honcho called – I figured it was better to say I wasin a meeting than to explain why I was the only one in the office.  With some degree of annoyance I tookthe call.

 

For years afterward, when I would think about that fateful day,the thing that would stick in my mind would be that stupid solitaire game.

 

ÒJim, this is Ben. YouÕd better get home right away. I heard a noise about fifteen minutes ago.  I thought it was just a car backfiring but now there are twopolice cars in your driveway.Ó

 

I drove home as fast as I could – the hell with the company;some things are just more important. When I got to the house we were renting, there were now three policecars, two ambulances and a news van from Channel 5.

 

The next several hours were a blur; I couldnÕt begin to recreateexactly all that had happened.  Thegist of it was that a burglar had broken into the house - not knowing Jen wasthere.  HeÕd surprised her comingout of the bedroom door and shot her once without thinking.  The detective I talked to speculatedthat the burglar was as startled as she had been and he just panicked.  He was running out the front door asthe first police car arrived and was killed in the ensuing shootout.

 

I had to leave while the investigation was still going on.  One of the detectives took me down tothe station and went over the details about the house being a crime scene.  It was late before a rookie in a patrolcar escorted me home to pick up some clothes and my shaving kit.  The house was taped with that yellowtape they use to keep people out. 

 

I was doing okay until I saw the door to our bedroom.  The once glossy black door wassplattered too generously with what had to be JenÕs blood.  Without realizing what I was doing, Ifell to my knees and put my hands on the still tacky red hell that was all thatwas left of my love.

 

I gasped in a weak voice, ÒPaint it black!  Oh, god, paint it black .Ó

 

This clearly scared the hell out of the rookie cop and bought meback from my daze.  As I gatheredmy stuff under the eyes of the now more diligent cop, I remembered theargument.

 

When we had rented the house it really was quite a dump.  The guy that owned it said he wouldgive us a break on the rent if we did some of the work ourselves.  That seemed okay with us since we bothliked to do that sort of thing.

 

We had painted everything and had only the door to our bedroomleft.  Funny, we had readily agreedon all the other colors we had chosen but for some reason we just couldnÕtagree on the door.  She wantedsomething I couldnÕt even pronounce – did you ever fight with someone andyou couldnÕt even pronounce what you were fighting about? – this colorcalled Peau De Soie.  It didnÕtreally look all that bad, kind of a chalky white, but I couldnÕt get past thestupid name.  I wanted a tintcalled Harmony.  It was really akind of pukey white but I loved the name.

 

Of course the argument turned out much worse than it shouldhave.  I guess there were somethings that had built up and needed to be Òdiscussed.Ó  She had to go over to her sisterÕshouse, and had the last word, ÒJust paint it whatever damn color you want!Ó

 

Well, I felt bad and decided to paint it the color shewanted.  I liked to play loud rockalbums when I worked around the house, I had my favorite one on by the RollingStones.  I was ready to startpainting when ÒPaint It BlackÓ came on. Unbidden, the idea came out of nowhere, and feeling nice and devilish, Iscrounged around in the garage and found a can of glossy black.  I knew I was just doing it to give hera hard time for not letting me win the argument.

 

I finished and É it was ugly!  I mean really butt ugly.  I felt bad but I couldnÕt do anything until the black crapdried.  Jen came home and gave me abig hug and apologized for the argument. Now I felt really bad.  Shestarted back to the bedroom and I tried to think how I could stop her.  Too late.  She was staring in awe at the door!  Awe or shock, I wasnÕt sure. 

 

I started stammering, ÒJen, it was just a stupid joke, I É Òwhen she started laughing, falling on her knees and pointing at the door.  It didnÕt take long before we were bothrolling around on the floor, laughing hysterically.  That quickly led to our big brass bed and fireworks. 

 

Later, lying there half asleep, I started telling her IÕd fixthe door the next morning.

 

Thoughtfully, she mused, ÒNo, Jim, letÕs keep it this way.  It is ugly but letÕs keepit!  This can be a sign of ourlove.  Every time we see the doorwe will be reminded of our first fight and of how we need to listen to eachother and learn how to compromise.Ó

 

ÒAre you sure, Honey?Ó

 

ÒYes, I am!  LetÕsleave it just as it is.Ó

 

When people would come over and comment on the color of thedoor, we would just smile and say, ÒOh, it was a compromise.Ó

 

And now, I saw a red door and I wanted, no needed, to paint itblack.

 

 

I see the girls walk by dressed in theirsummer clothes

I have to turn my head until my darknessgoes

 

Before I could possibly be ready, it was time for thefuneral.  JenÕs sister, Angiepicked me up from the hotel I was staying at.  I just couldnÕt go back to the house.  I kept thinking about that door,covered with the red of my loveÕs heart. I see that red door and feel that I have to paint it black.  If I couldnÕt see the red I couldpossibly escape facing the facts. ItÕs not easy being honest with yourself when your whole world isblack.  I hadnÕt had time to thinkabout anything.  My heart, my soulÉ everything seemed so gray – no, it was black .

 

As we drove through the park to the church that bright summer dayI didnÕt see the green leaves and lawns that were so painstakingly taken careof.  I saw a day the gray ofpewter.  I saw the girls in theircolorful summer frocks, the bright colors, the girls that were so ...alive.  As I watched one girl witha shining yellow sundress - her face glowing with a pretty flush from the sun -she started fading, the yellow to gray, and her face to black.  I had to turn my head until my darknesswent away – if it ever would. 

 

Angie turned and looked at me, seeing the darkness on me, thecolor of my life fading.  Shesqueezed my hand and I felt a sudden guilt at the dampness in her eyes.  At the same time I felt a faint,disturbing jealousy: the pain was mine and I wasnÕt ready to share it.

 

The church was crowded; black seemed to be the appropriate,predominate color.  The mood wassubdued, quiet.  It struck mesuddenly that this was not what Jen would want.  She was such a vivacious person, engaging others even ifthey were happy in their solitude. If she could look down – and I had to believe she was – Iknew she would be mad at me for the blackness overwhelming me, emanating fromme.

 

 

I see people turn their heads and quicklylook away

Like a new born baby it just happensevÕry day

 

As I walked to my place people would turn to me, prepared to offercondolences, a touch, a smile, a reassurance, some contact with me.  But the blackness was upon me andpeople would turn their heads and quickly look away.

 

Most of it was a blur. People would move around, do things, say things, stand up, kneel –I just É did whatever I did.  Iknow not what.

 

Angie gave a talk that caught me for a moment.

 

ÒMy big sister was so much in tune with others.  She would volunteer at the orphanage;she served food at Christmas. Anyone that needed an ear, someone to listen to them, she was there.

 

ÒShe comforted me when my first boyfriend dumped me.  She told me I was a special person andone day I would find that one person that would love me truly.  She did find that person for herself inJim.  She was so happy with him É Ó

 

She teared up and had to stop for a minute.  She looked down and gave me a wansmile.

 

ÒI remember once a stray dog was hit by a car in front of ourhouse.  Jen took it to the vet thenspent days trying to find the owner. When she finally found the young boy it belonged to, his smile made herthe happiest person in the world.Ó

 

Angie went on with the things Jen had done for others.  Looking up at the rafters of thechurch, I mumbled to myself, ÒJen, I hardly knew you. We needed time; we neededforever together.Ó

 

The priest talked for his seemingly mandatory twenty minutes.  Unlike Angie, he didnÕt seem to knowJen at all.  Out of his meaninglessplatitudes, one thing did reach me.

 

ÒLife is a cycle. Death is part of life. Birth is part of life.  Aswe remember this young lady today, somewhere else in this city a baby is beingborn.  Death is like a new bornbaby, it happens every day.Ó

 

 

I see a line of cars and theyÕre allpainted black

With flowers and my love both never tocome back

 

Finally it was over. Everyone went outside and I stood there, feeling lost.  I saw them putting Jen in a long blackhearse.  It seemed É fitting.  There was a long line of limos, allblack.  People were starting tofilter into the open doors and I felt a tug on my arm. 

 

Angie gently led me to our own black car.  I looked over at the hearse and saw thebright array of flowers on the casket. I saw the door close and the hearse slowly pulling away and I knew atthat moment that neither the flowers nor Jen were ever coming back to me.  My love was gone É gone forever.  I collapsed into the limo and startedcrying – even my tears were black.

 

~~~~~~

 

I drifted for the next month.  I took a leave of absence from work – they gave mynext project to someone else.  IcouldnÕt deal with the house.  Ifound an agent and dumped the subleasing of the house on him.  He found an apartment for me and tookcare of moving what I wanted to keep.

 

For the first week I sat around and looked at the walls in thesmall apartment.  I kept thinkingof the song by Jim Reeves,

 

ÒFour walls to hear me

Four walls to see

Four walls too near me

Closing in on meÓ

 

I finally had to get away. I drove to the coast and took long walks on the beach.  I ate but the food was tasteless.  It was all just so É so sudden: fromwhite to black in an instant.  Thesun shone brightly; my days were gray.

 

I started running on the beach instead of walking.  After a week and eating little andrunning miles on miles I could feel my clothes becoming slack.  I almost smiled to myself – I wasbecoming a slacker.

 

One morning as I ran I saw a tern walking on the beach.  As I got closer I saw that its wing wasbroken.  I took my shirt off andwrapped around the poor innocent creature.  I took it into town to the vet.  I could see Jen doing that and felt a small comfort.

 

 

No more will my green sea go turn adeeper blue

I could not foresee this thing happeningto you

 

There was this cove we would go to together.  Through some trick of light and thedepth of the water this cove would be a beautiful sea green – until thesun shone just right then it would turn a dark blue.  It was a longish walk from where I was staying but I thoughtthat seeing this favorite cove of ours would help.  I got there early in the morning, carrying a sandwich forthe expected wait for the sea change.

 

As expected, satisfying in that it was as I had remembered, thewater at the cove was green.  Itwas that special shade of green that a new copper roof looks before weatheringsets in.   Feeling better, Iate my sandwich and waited.  Andwaited.  The hunger pangs in mystomach made me realize that no more would this lovely green sea change to thatdark blue anymore.

 

Oh, Jen.  I couldnÕthave seen this happening to you. We were so happy.  Our lovewas so deep.  Now you are gone andIÕm alive.  It never even crossedmy mind that something would take you away from me.

 

I knew it was time for me to go back and get on with my life.

 

~~~~~~

 

I started back at work. There were always new projects to do.  I caught an interesting one:  we needed to come up with a better suite of tools to managelarge disk arrays.  I threw myselfinto the task, working late, coming in early.  The challenge of getting it right occupied my mind as longas I was at work.  The time awayfrom work É well, I tried to make that window as small as possible.

 

About three months after I started work, I was nursing my lastbeer when I heard a soft, tentative knocking at my door.  I was startled; through the months thatI had been in this apartment, not one person had visited me.

 

I cautiously opened the door to see Angie, JenÕs littlesister.  She wasnÕt so little; shewas twenty-two and had finished college last year.  She taught third grade at the school she had attended as akid.  She looked at me with a sadface.

 

ÒJim, you havenÕt visited us since É well, no one has seenyou.  Mom and dad would like tohave you come over for dinner Sunday. Can you make it, please?Ó

 

I really had no reason for not going.  Angie stayed and we chatted for a while.  Somehow I felt better for her havingvisited.  She seemed like asongbird – flitting all over the place spreading joy.

 

When I got to JenÕs parents house right on time that Sunday, theymade me feel bad that IÕd neglected them. They were good people and had been very nice to me.  I knew that it was just as hard on themand Angie as it was on me.  IÕd justbeen in such a black funk that I hadnÕt allowed myself to move on.

 

When I was ready to go, Angie walked me out to my car.

 

ÒJim, I have some tickets to see Cats next Saturday.  I canÕt find anyone to go with me.  I was going to go with my friend, Kathy,but she has to go out of town.Ó

 

I knew IÕd feel bad if I didnÕt go.  She had been a good friend and I didnÕt want to hurther.  It wasnÕt until months laterI found out she didnÕt buy the tickets until IÕd agreed to go.

 

That next week seemed to go better.  I spent slightly less time at work and even watched a coupleof NBA games on TV.

 

On Wednesday I was watching a commercial and saw a woman thatfaintly reminded me of Jen.  Itried to remember what Jen looked like, how she was different from this womanon TV.  I was shocked when theimage was slightly blurry.  I hadto look at JenÕs picture on the mantle to get her back into a tight focus in mymind.  I felt bad, but whathappens, happens.

 

On Saturday I picked up Angie at her parents place.  She was wearing a pale blue dress thatlooked suspiciously new.  I enjoyedthe play more that I was expecting. IÕd seen it before with Jen. When they did the song, ÒMungojerrie And Rumpleteazer,Ó I laughedwithout thinking.  This had alwaysbeen one of my favorite songs from Cats. 

 

I felt guilty, like I had to be sad all the time, and looked atAngie to see if my laughing had upset her.  She smiled at me and squeezed my hand.  She left her hand in mine,disconcerting me.  I didnÕt knowwhat to do so I didnÕt do anything. We stopped for ice cream afterwards and I did relax a little.

 

Going out with her to various places went on for a few months andsuddenly Christmas was upon us.  Iwas going to fly to spend the holiday with my mom – dad had died a fewyears ago – but Angie insisted I at least spend Christmas day with them.

 

ÒYou know how we do the presents on Christmas morning.  You can stay the night before.  Is it okay for you to sleep in JenÕsold room?Ó she asked a bit nervously.

 

It actually did bother me but I didnÕt want to upset her.  ÒSure, Angie, thatÕs fine.Ó

 

Came Christmas Eve, it felt really weird to stay in JenÕsroom.  Except for a few thingstored there – everyoneÕs summer clothes in the closet, for example– the room was essentially like it was the day Jen had moved in withme.  I fell asleep right away butabout three some small noise - some groan in the house reacting to the cold,maybe – awakened me.  I hadthe feeling that Jen was in the room with me, smiling in the dark with hervivacious smile.  I felt somethingsoft slip into my heart; my muscles seemed to loosen, almost melt.  A sense of peace overcame me and I fellinto a deep, dreamless sleep.

 

I didnÕt hear the soft knock on the door.  I did hear the easy squeak the door hadalways made and felt the slight movement of the bed as someone sat on it.  It was, of course, Angie coming to wakeme up.  There was just enough lightto see her.  Her dirty blond hairwas hanging loosely around her face. She had no makeup on and looked like an angel sitting there.  She had a serious look on her face,almost like she was puzzled by something. 

 

Unthinking, I put my hand on her cheek, just holding itthere.  She leaned her head into myhand and closed her eyes.  Westayed like that for a frozen moment when her mom called up the stairs.

 

ÒAngie, is he awake yet?

 

Angie jumped up with a startled look on her face.  I think she had really forgotten whyshe came upstairs.  The lightwasnÕt very bright but it looked suspiciously like she was blushing.

 

ÒHurry down, Jim. Everything is ready.Ó

 

I pulled on some sweats I had laying out and, after washing myface, went on down.  Angie, her momand dad, and her older brother, Robert, and his wife and two small childrenwere gathered.  The kids werelooking at me with some exasperation, like I had hidden Santa Claus.

 

The tradition was to let the kids do their thing – ripeverything open as fast as possible – then go play with their goodies.

 

The adults could then leisurely open presents one at a time,allowing comments and conversation. This was done with coffee and hot eggnog available.

 

I gave Angie a nice angora sweater that seemed to be the rightsize.  She seemed happy with it– she ran over and gave me a big hug.  She was wearing a robe and I could feel that she wasnÕt thelittle sister anymore.  She stayedby me on the sofa.

 

When my turn came, Angie handed me a small, flat package.  It turned out to be a very nicecalfskin address book. 

 

With a faint tinge of sarcasm, she said, ÒNotice that I already putmy name in it!  Now you have noexcuse for not calling.Ó

 

I smiled at that but didnÕt say anything. 

 

It was a wonderful morning. Everyone treated me like I was one of the family.  I realized with a start that I reallywas É that I had always been part of the family.

 

I flew out later that afternoon and spent a week with Mom andothers in my extended family.  Itwas a nice visit but it was good to get back to work.  I settled in and was quite busy.  We were at a critical design stage and were scheduled tomake the final pitch for funding the first of March.

 

The days and weeks flew by and we finally made our pitch.  We got pretty much what we asked forbut when everything had settled down they had increased our equipment budgetsignificantly.

 

About a week later, this was about ten weeks since Christmas, Iwas watching Phoenix and Dallas go into overtime: Nash versus Nowitzki wasalways fun to watch.  There came aknock on the door and I paused the game – God bless DVRÕs.  It was, of course, Angie again.

 

She came in, a sudden flurry of activity, a box in her arms.  ÒJim, I ... I made a couple of applepies and I ... well, I thought you might like one.Ó

 

She put it on the counter – next to the address book she hadgiven me.  She looked at it for afrozen minute, and then asked, ÒDid you like it?  Did you like my present then?Ó

 

Before I could answer she ran from the room crying.  Perplexed, I stood there and tried tofigure it out.  Not coming to anyunderstanding, I sliced a piece of the pie and finished watching the game.

 

Later I thought about it lying in bed.  I considered all the interactions IÕd had with Angie sinceJen had died but the pieces werenÕt falling into place.  Finally, I fell into a deep sleep.  Hours later I slowly came somewhatawake and felt a presence in the room. I knew there could be no one there but I had that same sense of peaceIÕd felt that night sleeping in JenÕs bed.  Out of nowhere came a fragment of one of JenÕs favoritesongs  - not audibly heard, but inmy head.

 

ÒHey, Jude! Don't let her down

You have found her, now go and gether.Ó

 

It seemed like Jen was singing it – as she had so many timesbefore.  I felt a hand on my cheek:like I had held AngieÕs cheek with my own that Christmas morning.

 

ÒRemember, to let her into yourheart

Then you can start to make itbetter.Ó

 

I was awake now.  Igot up and fixed a cup of tea.  AsI sipped the tea I stared at JenÕs picture – searching for some answer.  I saw the address book on the kitchencounter and walked over to pick it up. I ran my fingers lightly over the smooth - almost warm feeling –leather.  I lifted it to my nose– inhaling the rich aroma of fine calfskin.  Idly I leafed through the pages – one at a time,flipping them slowly over.  Therewas nothing on any page until I came to one about half way through that hadAngieÕs phone number on it.

 

I suddenly dropped the address book as if it were hot to thetouch.  I looked down at it andrealized with somewhat of a shock that Angie loved me!  With a sense of wonder, I turned thethought this way, that way in my mind. I studied it; I considered that it was true.  I almost ran to the phone to call her to see if it were true.  I stopped as I picked up thehandset.  The time wasnÕt reallygreat for social calls, but more important, I had no idea how I felt.

 

Had Jen been trying to tell me something?  I got JenÕs photo album from the closetand looked for the picture there. It was taken at a dance we had been to with Angie and a guy she wasdating and the picture showed Angie dancing with me; she had a look of whatcould only be rapture on her face. It came to me then that Angie had always loved me in some fashion.  I was humbled by the realization.

 

I thought of all that had happened – the intense feeling ofblackness that had invaded my soul for so long.  Holding that thought I realized with a small shock that IhadnÕt felt that blackness since Christmas. 

 

~~~~~~

 

The next day I called Angie and somewhat clumsily asked her out todinner.

 

ÒWhy?Ó she replied.

 

I considered that question carefully.

 

ÒWell, Angie, the food is good there, I like your company, and IÕdlike it very much if you could go with me.Ó

 

I could almost hear her smile.  ÒOkay, come early and visit with the folks.Ó

 

I did get there early and I enjoyed talking to them.  I felt guilty that I hadnÕt stopped bymore often.  Angie would glance atme every few minutes – almost a question in her eyes.

 

As we got to our table and I pulled out her chair, she indicatedthe one next to where I would sit. The waiter came to take our drink orders and left.  She put her hand on mine and lookedaway for a minute – deciding something.  Leaving her hand on mine, she looked straight in my eyes fora long minute.

 

Finally, she whispered, ÒYou know, donÕt you?Ó

 

ÒYes, Angie, I know.Ó

 

She took a deep breath, and asked, ÒHow do you feel about it?Ó

 

ÒAngie, I have to be honest with you.  I was in the grasp of this darkness, this blackness for so longthat I didnÕt really see what was going on around me.  How do I feel? Many things.  Mostly I feelhonored and humbled that such a special person as you would care about me.  I feel excited in a way I never thoughtI could again.  You have awakenedsomething in me that lay fallow for far too long. 

 

ÒI need to learn to live again ... to learn to love again.  I do need some time to É Ó

 

ÒWhat do you need time for, Jim?  How much time?Ó

 

Slowly, I responded, ÒTime to do what we are doing now.  Time to explore each other in a newlight.  Time for you to test yourlove and for me to make sure the blackness has really gone.  How long?  I canÕt say but weÕll know, Angie, weÕll know.Ó

 

With that I leaned over and gave her a short kiss just as thewaiter came with our order.  Shelaughed a little and visibly relaxed. We had a lot of fun and much laughter along with the great meal.  There did seem to be a certainbrittleness to her but I could understand that.

 

From then on I made a point to either call or see her everyday.  The first time we ate dinnerwith her parents I expected them to say something but I guess they knew allalong.  Later I talked with herdad.

 

ÒWhen you and Jen got hitched, we thought it was cute the way sheloved you.  We thought it was likepuppy love.  I guess Jen knew allalong but they always had such a great relationship that it wasnÕt a problem.Ó

 

ÒDad, how do you think Jen would like it if É well, if somethinghappened with Angie and I?Ó  IÕdtaken to calling him dad soon after Jen had moved in with me.

 

ÒWhy, boy, I reckon JenÕs up in heaven right now smilingÕ down on us.  I surely do think she would be tickledpink.Ó

 

As we dated and gradually became closer, that brittleness IÕdsensed at the restaurant that night faded away.  I guess if you want something for such a long time and sodeeply, that when it does come it can be hard to trust.

 

I took it slow and gentle with Angie.  I knew she loved me but I didnÕt want to spook her.  She had a sweetness that I guess IÕdalways known about but never fully realized.

 

Months slid by faster than I could believe.  I gained a growing assurance that Iloved her for herself and not just as JenÕs little sister.  What wasnÕt to love?  She was pretty in the girl-next-doorsort of way.  Where Jen had alwaysbeen calm, Angie had a natural gaiety about her that made folks smile wheneverthey saw her.   She didnÕthave JenÕs outgoing kindness and thoughtfulness for others but she was kind andcaring in a narrower sense.  Ittook her time to make friends but when she did, you knew you were a friendforever.

 

We would cuddle most days that we had a date but neither of usseemed in a rush for something more physical.  ItÕs hard to explain but we had an intimacy that manycouples can only gain through physical contact.

 

During the Thanksgiving dinner that fall, RobertÕs wife, Marie,was talking about a wedding shower she had gone to.  When she finished Dad looked at us, one by one as we satacross the table from each other, and asked, ÒWell, when are you kids gittinÕhitched?Ó

 

With great interest, everyone looked at us.  Angie and I made eye contact and Icould see the question there.  Inodded at her – letting her know that whatever she wanted to say wasokay.  We had talked in generalterms but nothing specific had been decided.  Actually I was very interested to hear exactly what shewould say.

 

ÒWell, Jim and I would like to get married on Christmas Eve, herein the house.Ó  She looked over atme and I smiled so she continued, ÒThen Christmas morning we will be here forour traditional gift giving and then we will leave for our honeymoon.Ó

 

She had tears in her eyes – I think I did too – andeveryone got up and gave us hugs.

 

It worked out just like she said.  We got married on Christmas Eve with just friends and familyaround.  We slept together for thefirst time in her small bed in her room. ThatÕs the way she wanted it.

 

It was a slow, beautiful sharing of many tender moments.  We both knew that wild passion wouldcome later.  That first time wasmore of a recognition of our joining together in marriage and a seal of ourshared love.

 

I woke in the night and had a sense that Jen was smiling down onus.  It was like she was sayinggoodbye and wishing us well.  Icould feel the last vestiges of the darkness that had been so much a part of mylife after she died melt away in a happiness IÕd never expected to find.

 

~~~~~~

 

The next summer, Angie wanted to go to the beach.  With an air of mystery she said, ÒIjust want to check on something.Ó

 

We walked slowly along the beach, holding hands and marveling atthe beauty of the summer morning, dashing in and out of the gentle waves thatseemed to greet us with a smile. We got to the little cove, sandwiches in hand, and stared at the emeraldgreen water.  As the sun rosehigher in the sky, slowly, and we ate our sandwiches, the water started its metamorphosisto a deep blue. 

 

IÕd told the story to Angie of how the sea wouldnÕt change for meanymore.  There was a look ofwonder on her face as she watched the magical change of hue.  When she realized the water was truly adeep blue and all hints of green were gone she threw herself on me with asqueal.  She blushed prettily andwhispered one word in my ear.

 

ÒDid you say daddy? Me?  Really?Ó

 

She smiled her yes and together we made love in that private covewith an abandon that would mark our lovemaking for many years.

If I look hard enough into the settinÕsun

My love will laugh with me before themorninÕ comes