“You’ve got to admit, there is something more than human to all this,” she said.
“Just so I understand, you believe God takes the time to arrange years of events in our lives but doesn’t just—” Felix swished his hand, the gesture of a magician making something disappear. She understood the questions in the silence: If God would do this much, why didn’t he simply cure cancer? If he cared enough about Becky to lead her to Felix, then why hadn’t he healed Mike?
It was a question that had pierced her too, especially when the house was empty and she lay alone. Three years later, her conclusion was that God could have healed Mike but didn’t because it was beside the point. He allowed stuff to happen, and then took her hand to help her through it. Or in this case, put Felix in position to take her hand.
“It’s all part of the Big Plan,” she said. “God’s job isn’t to make anyone’s life painless and easy, but to create opportunities for us to learn and progress. He knew what would happen to Mike, so all those years before he led me to you.”
Felix shrugged, unconvinced. His fingers rose to sweep a strand of hair off her forehead. “You really are cute when you believe God helps you sell screenplays.”
“Stop that. You said yourself back then that it was impossible. So why couldn’t it have been God creating a little miracle so that we could meet? Our entire relationship has been one outrageous coincidence after another. There’s no way this was all chance. Look at the evidence, Jeeves!”
He disengaged a bouquet of sunflowers from a tree and placed it in her hands. “It was karma, it was kismet, it was magic. It doesn’t matter how it happened, just that it did.”
“That’s all you can give me? The Felix in the story converted.”
“Really?”
“No. I couldn’t even make your fictional counterpart see the light.”
“I’ll give you this much—if God exists, I hope he’s your kind of god, the kind that would orchestrate all those events to bring us here on this mountaintop. That is a deity I could really dig. But . . .” he hesitated, and she could see the genuine struggle in his expression.
“Spit it out, sweetie.”
“These months haven’t been terribly fun, for either of us.”
She hugged him, pressing her head against his chest, her ear to his heartbeat.
He leaned his head against hers and rubbed her back. “I don’t mean to argue you out of your comfort, but this seems like a lot of torture to go through just for—”
“You’re right!” She let go, hopping back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Maybe this means even more. I never thought I could love anyone again after Mike—not like that. But for weeks I almost believed I loved you, and for at least a few moments, I was convinced that I was head-over-heels. So in an extreme way, I proved to myself that I can love again. You see? I’m not only okay and mostly healed because of you, but now there’s that added hope that I might be able to love someone else again. Someday.”
“Ah. There we go.” He was gazing at her, nearly glowing with affection. “You really are adorable when you get all crazy-eyed.”
She giggled. “Thanks. I feel so weirdly happy. You didn’t spike the muffins with something?”
“Besides diamond rings? Now enough with your fairyland talk and on to blessed reality. I’m quite prepared to shoulder the responsibility in your serendipity charade—discovering your next true love. It’s just a matter of finding someone not quite as perfect as I am, one of your own kind. This is my arena, darling. I am going to—”
“Stop. No. Not you as matchmaker, not ever, and certainly not now. Let me clarify what I mean by maybe and someday . . .”
“So you say, but just wait until I start sending some delightful middle-aged Mormons your way.”
“You know a plethora of upstanding LDS Utahns who are in the market for a forty-five-year-old widow with four children?”
“I know Robert Redford and—”
“And you think the Sundance Kid would go for me? Now, there’s a real actor, a true heartthrob. That’s so sweet of you to set us up! I wonder what colors I should pick for my bridesmaids—”
“Ahem, I meant that Bob lives in Utah and may know some people. I’ll provide a handsome dowry for you and entertain your suitors in the parlor over nonalcoholic brandy.”
“Don’t you dare.”
He rubbed his hands together. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”
“See? See what you did there with the hand clapping and the squealing and the matchmaking glee? This is precisely when you’re thirty percent gay.”
“It was a hand rubbing, which was intended to evoke an evil-genius persona. And I have never squealed in my life. But I will concede the matchmaking glee, because, my inscrutable lady, you’re going to be falling in love again.”
He swept her up and began to waltz, singing “Falling in Love Again” with an astounding Marlene Dietrich accent, which, truthfully, impressed Becky to bits. So she gave up. She was dancing with Felix on a mountaintop, and they were best friends again, and she would always, always be utterly and platonically in love with him. He would never abandon her, never leave a gaping hole, and even if he died someday, he was preserved like a lab specimen from all that alcohol he imbibed, so he wouldn’t look or act much different.
And maybe she would fall in love again and not have to pass into old age alone, and maybe it would be someone the kids could really love too, and place a shiny little patch over the hole in their hearts. Someone like Felix. That kind of thing was known to happen, after all, and just then, with the sun pouring pure molten gold through the trees, and a sky directly overhead so close she thought she could swipe it with her outstretched hand, and air chilled and clear so that it went down her throat like a gulp of ice water—just then, everything was possible.
And she and Felix danced.
As often happened in unsuspecting moments, a sudden pain split her chest, reminding her that Mike was gone. But the ache was easier to bear there on top of the world, spinning with Felix. She missed Mike with exquisite longing. But she wasn’t afraid of the loneliness. She would keep growing, keep changing, and the pain in her heart might lessen, and her isolation soften, and she still had a whole world to stretch and move in. There was a touch of excitement too, as if she were about to embark on an adventure. She aimed to make the second half of her life spectacular. Not better than the first—different, interesting, and worth the journey.
As they spun, Felix pulled her in till they were one person, together in the center of everything, the world whirling around them—and he kissed her on the mouth, the sweetest, best, friendliest, lovingest kiss.
“Dang,” she said, “I forgot to eat the croissants.”
Felix carried the basket and held her hand as they walked up the hill, Becky munching on a chocolate croissant. She realized how much they’d been touching, holding hands, embracing, kissing, cuddling, as if on that mountaintop they had a brief reprieve from the world and could experience what it would be like to be more than what they were. Her steps slowed, reluctant to return to earth and let this go. It might be a long time before she would walk like this with a man again.
He slowed to match her pace. “Nothing to hurry back to?”
“I wouldn’t take another step if the kids weren’t waiting.”
“I imagine all four are sitting on the front steps watching the sky. Even Hyrum. Polly will be let down not to see a ring on your finger. Shall we take them out to a show to ease the disappointment?”
“Yes, let’s. But this time, you buy admission and I’ll spring for the treats.”
“Don’t forget the licorice.”
Her heart warmed. He really had imagined himself becoming their surrogate father—not just accepted it; he’d looked forward to it. She planned to keep her best friend Felix around, playing soccer with her kids and filling Christmas stockings for as long as she could. It would be good practice until he stumbled into his own family.
C
eleste has a child, she thought. And wondered if time and grace and need might someday pull the former couple together again. Though she would hold her breath and die before suggesting that to Felix.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked.
Her thoughts fl ed from Celeste and to the next nearest thought. “You know that old rhyme about the bear who went over the mountain to see what he could see? And what he saw was—”
“The other side of the mountain.”
“Yeah. Well, here we are. I’d imagined it would be a lot different.”
“Yes, so did I.”
“But it’s nice, the other side of the mountain. Not much different, but nice.”
“And what provoked this rumination?”
“How I keep trying to force our story into a fairy tale, but from the beginning, it’s been more like a nursery rhyme.”
“Bizarre and adorable?”
“Just like you.”
“With rings in your pockets and bells on your toes.”
“Ooh, I should really invest in some toe bells.”
Their steps kept slowing, stopping altogether beside the he li copter. Felix took both her hands, his face full of sunset. She glanced back down the mountain, wondering if she felt at all like Eve as she took Adam’s hand and left Eden forever. Felix touched Becky’s face, drawing her back to him. His finger stroked her cheek, and while there was no sorrow in his eyes, no fever, no worry, still there was a hint of hope in his voice when he asked, “Becky, are you sure?”
She knew what he meant. And she loved him even more powerfully for it. “Yes, I’m sure, Felix. And thank you for making sure.”
He nodded once, resigned.
He didn’t let go of her hand as they climbed into the helicopter, as they lifted up into the velvet blue sky. The evening was lush and unreal above the mountains, the clouds pulsing with gold and orange, everything more perfect than the end of a movie.
She’d been fearing the next silence, when she’d have time to consider that the hope that had been Felix was gone. And as the helicopter blades whirred, churning the world into white noise, and Felix was quiet, staring out the window, she winced and prepared herself for pain.
But it didn’t come. There was still that twinge in her heart that told her Mike was gone, the ache of her skin because Mike no longer touched her, the dark tang of loneliness in her throat. She figured those would never go away completely. But they did not spread throughout her body, they did not bury her with grief. She ached—but her stomach muscles were still sore from laughing, and a twitch in the corners of her mouth told her that it wouldn’t be hard to laugh again.
The helicopter dove at the valley. Becky snuggled into Felix and watched home draw near.
“I love you, Felix Callahan,” she said over the headset. “I do. I love you so much.”
“I love you, Mrs. Jack. I thank God for you.”
Becky said, “Amen.”
And they kissed one last time.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Victoria Wells Arms, Caralyn Beuhner, A. E. Cannon, Nadia Cornier, Dean Hale, Katie Henderson, Stephenie Meyer, Laura Mid-dleton, and Elizabeth Peters for priceless feedback. A shout-out to Rebecca Castleton, Jen Hoge, Rosi Hayes, John Hayes, Mark Richardson, and Michael Snyder for helpful brainstorming and topical info. Huge slobbery kisses to the fine booksellers at the King’s English and the noble librarians of the Beehive State, my home turf. Rick Walton’s delightful picture book Pig Pigger Piggest (Gibbs Smith) made a brief appearance.
For unintended inspiration, muchas gracias: Katie Janke (my resident mother of four who, for the record, is not Becky); Bonnie Bryner (mother of five, who actually is Becky . . . just kidding, she’s my mom); Libba “Bonnie Tyler” Bray (the “you broke it you bought it” line); Dean Hale (who is neither Mike nor Felix, but supplied a couple of their lines); Bill Bracy and Schnoppes; also Janae Stephenson and the Garden Geeks, Toni Butler, Marianne Lloyd, Christine Hale, Laurie Birky, and anonymous mothers at church, at the mall, at the hospital, etc. Take care what you say and do around writers—we’re watching, always watching . . .
A Note on the Author
Shannon Hale is the author of Austenland, Rapunzel’s Revenge (a graphic novel), and five young adult novels, including the Newbery Honor–winning, New York Times bestseller Princess Academy. She is at work on a sixth young adult novel and her second graphic novel, Calamity Jack. She lives with her husband and two children in Salt Lake City, Utah. Visit Shannon’s Web site at www.shannonhale.com.
Shannon Hale, The Actor and the Housewife
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