LOVE
by
Diane Batten

Chloe rocked back on her heels and turned her head toward the opened closet door. "Mandy, do you want Mama's quilt scraps?" she asked.

Mandy leaned against the door jamb, "No, you take them. I don't have room for the quilting frame," she said.

"Are you sure?" Chloe asked, dragging the box toward the door.

"Here let me help you," Mandy said, yanking the box clear of the closet doors.

"Oh Lord, look at the time," Chloe said and rushed to the bed. "Why didn't you tell me it was almost eleven? I have to pick Jack Jr. up at kindergarten." She quickly gathered the bags she was taking and rushed out of the room.

Mandy chuckled, lifting the box of scraps she slowly followed her down stairs. You're still running around like the earth's on fire, she thought, watching the screened door slam.

Chloe honked the car horn and waved. "Bye Daddy, I'll be back tomorrow," she said.

Gabe turned from the row of radishes and waved.

"Don't forget to make him eat lunch," she said to Mandy.

"Tell Jack Jr. I love him," Mandy said, backing away from the car. She turned her attention to the garden. "Dad are your ready for lunch?"

He walked between the rows and leaned the hoe against the shed. He said, "I'm going to warm up some of that soup your Aunt Mary brought over yesterday. Do you want some?"

"No, I'm not hungry, but I'll warm it for you," Mandy said.

Gabe turned the spigot on and placed the hose between his knees. He rinsed the rich dirt off, letting the hose flop to the ground, he shook his hands dry. "I've been fixing my own lunch," he said and cleared the knot from his throat. "I'll fix it. Are you two about finished?" he asked, turning his gaze to the house.

"Almost," Mandy answered, watching his profile.

"Good, good. I'll put some fresh coffee on, so if you want a cup you can come and get it," Gabe absently said.

Mandy followed him to the house, sensing he wanted to be alone with his soup. She went back up stairs to finish clearing her Mother's things out of the closet. What haven't we gone through, she wondered? Her eyes roamed the room, resting on the oak dresser. Mama's underclothes and gloves, her scarves. She blinked and wiped her eyes surprised by the tears. I didn't cry at your funeral, Mama. I couldn't, Daddy and Chloe needed a strong shoulder and you always told me tears were a waste. I never saw you cry, Mama. Why? She shook the thought from her head and opened the bottom dresser drawer. Kneeling down she lifted a pale blue scarf. I remember when Daddy gave this to you, she thought sitting down and dropping the scarf around her neck. Silk. Reaching into the drawer she lifted the pile of scarf. What? Her fingers scraped the gloves off the top of a book. A diary? I didn't know you kept a diary. She leaned against the bed and hesitantly opened the book to the first page.

Sept. 8th, 1945

I married Gabe Willson today. We are in Atlanta for our honeymoon. Uncle Russ let us borrow his car. We'll be heading home Tuesday.

You don't sound like a thrilled bride, but then that's you Mama, understating everything in life. Mandy flipped through the pages.

Nov. 12, 1949

I gave birth to a six pound daughter, Amanda Elizabeth, at 3:28 a.m. My Mother and Aunt Esther have come to help until I am on my feet again. Gabe is calling her Mandy. If he wanted to call her Mandy why didn't he name her that?

I can't read this, it's to depressing, she thought, closing the book. She laid it on the floor and reached into the drawer for the gloves. Dumping them next to the scarves a small book tumble next to her foot. Mandy picked it up thinking, I hope this isn't a sequel to the last one.

Oct. 8, 1945

I have been married to Gabe exactly one month. One month of hell! He knows I don't love him. He's a good man and he worships me. I wish he hated me! I shiver at the thought of going through life with him. His hands are hard and calloused. I hate his hands on me, his breath in my ear. Can't he tell? Andrew! Oh, Andrew, I pretend he's you.

What the hell? Mandy turned the page.

I know the taste of you,
the smell,
it soaked into my pores,
holding me to this life.
I carry the rhythm of you,
breathing softly,
ever so softly,
into the world of reality.

I hold tightly to the fantasy of you,
it shelters me,
comforts me,
from the harsh words of life.
Yet if you were here,
with me to see.
The sadness I hold,
would come crashing out.
I would be crying in your arms forever.

Crying in your arms forever, Andrew. You could heal my heart, after all you are the one that holds the key. I am trying to hold on to my life like you asked me to. Andrew, I can't stop loving you.

Andrew? Who the hell is this Andrew? Mandy jerked her head around, Oh God, I thought Dad, was coming up the steps. She looked at the familiar scrawled writing. Does Dad know about Andrew? She wondered, flipping the pages forward.

Aug.19, 1947

I see you somewhere between reality and dreams,
holding you in the darkness and light,
loving you beyond words.

Andrew, my Andrew, if you were only here to save me. I am lonely, so lonely.

"Mama," she whispered.

Sept. 5, 1955

Mandy started school today, she's a beautiful child. Chloe cried all morning, wanting me go get her, sister. I wish you could see them Andrew.

I look at you in the light of day,
the burning light of day.
I look at you in the light of night,
the cold light of night.
My conflict!
Your words slowly circle,
gaining strength as the days and nights pass.
Hurricane force motions,
shatter my life.

You are shattering me Andrew! Your memory is killing me, but I can't let you go. You fill the emptiness in me. Gabe doesn't understand how empty I am.

Is this why you were so distant Mama? You longed for some lost lover. Daddy worshiped the ground you walked on and you, you spent your life praying for a man you couldn't have. I just thought you didn't know how to show your love for us.

March, 26, 1956

Gabe brought me the most delicate blue scarf today. The silk is creamy smooth. It matches the blue of Mandy's eyes and the softness of Chloe's cheeks. I felt happy for the first time in months. Truly happy.

That's why I remember the scarf, Mandy thought, lightly fingering the fine silk. You were happy and we went out for supper.

Remember what you said about blue, Andrew? It is the emotion of the sky. A blue sky is truly happy, it doesn't have to fight the clouds, the lightning, a blue sky can see forever. I was truly a blue sky day.

Andrew! I hate him! Mandy ripped the scarf from her neck.

Sept.8, 1965

Gabe and I have been married twenty years! It should have been us, Andrew? We went out to dinner. I feel numb from all the activities. I wanted to shout, don't cling to me! I haven't the strength to hold us up. I can barely stand on my own two feet. I'm drained. The long years have drained me. I feel like a shadow. All I thought about was the day we met, Andrew.

Your eyes touched mine lightly dancing over me,
they strayed to the sky,
back to meet my gaze.

I turned away holding their blue-green gentleness,
my memory flashed, blue-green,
storm clouds are blue-green,
destructive hail.
I hesitantly looked up.
What darkness do you hold?

Your smile tenderly touched me,
washing through me,
then disappeared with the turn of your head.

Holding your warmth in my heart,
my memory flashed, warmth,
heat kills delicate flowers.
I stared at your profile.
What destructive powers do you hold?

Your lips touched mine,
breathlessly,
then pulled back.

Holding you in my arms,
my memory flashed, love.
Your passion reached pass my heart,
leaving finger prints on my soul.

That's what you did to me, Andrew. You left your finger prints on my soul and I can't be satisfied with Gabe. Can you take them back, Andrew? Can you let me live in peace? I can't live like this anymore. I need to love more than a memory. Please! Please, Andrew set me free, before it's to late!

You have been struggling with the memory for twenty years. Mandy shook her head. Why can't you just let him go?

June 16, 1969

Degrees of love, degrees of anxiety,
degrees of laughter, of hunger.

You side step the questions.
Do you have a degree in that?

Side stepping or stepping back.
I watch the questions fall to the ground.
They look like nothing.

Shall I pick them up?
Hold them in my hands.
Shape them into a square a ball.

Dissect the question.
The answer dissects me.
Is that the question?
Me?

I have been dissecting myself, Andrew. I have no degrees of emotions. I have wrapped them all in a book called, Andrew. Mandy and Chloe have grown up with out my love. I am emotionally numb with them, giving all to a memory. What is the answer? Is it to late? If I turn to Gabe now, will he punish me for all of the years I have pushed him away? How do I pull them closer now? How, Andrew? Tell me how!

Mama you did love us. We always knew you loved us. She glanced at the date. Nineteen sixty-nine. Yeah, that's when you started changing. I thought it was menopause. Christmas, that was the best we'd ever hand. Mandy smiled.

July 24, 1973

You were in my dreams last night,
your face.
So young, perfectly young.

I hope time has been kind to you,
that your dreams aren't haunted by distant pain.

Your face, your smiling face.

Memories have a way of hurting,
if we had only known.
When we were perfectly young.

You said this to me in my dream. Does that mean you forgive me Andrew? I couldn't go with you that night. You know I couldn't. I had to work, for Jean. Her baby was sick. Maybe I have forgiven myself, for living. My dreams, my life has been haunted, by your death. Your last words to me. My father had to carry me out of the hospital. I don't remember the funeral. You never died to me, for all these years. You were with me.

I am happy, even though you still haunt me, it's softer now, blurred by time. I will always love you Andrew.

Mandy lovingly touched the page. I see you in a different light, Mama. God, I didn't know you felt this deeply. His memory almost drove you crazy. I miss you. I never thought I would miss you. When was your last entry? She turned to the last pages.

Sept. 8, 1975

Echoes of a long ago summers,
laughter of those day.
Are those images more real than today?
That will melt with the suns of tomorrow.
Echoes through time.

Is that what I am a ripple?
Ever circling,
never today,
waiting for tomorrow,
longing for the warmth of yesterday,
until the circle is empty.

That's how I feel, Andrew, an empty circle. My years of longing. I let life hurt me, leaving the laughter until tomorrow. When is tomorrow? I need tomorrow. I need smiles around me. I long for laughter. I have robbed my family, my Gabe. All because I lost you. It's ironic, I have cried for the universe, when I had the Moon in my grasp. I have wasted years crying for you and now I have had to work harder to make up for my longing for you. Gabe has been by my side for thirty years, patiently waiting for me to open my eyes. And I have, slowly over the years. I have changed and he sees it.

The soul carries bruises,
like flesh that scars,
causing endless weeping.

I write you now out of habit. Telling you my thoughts, my new dreams. But now my love belongs to Gabe. His finger prints have replaced yours, on my soul.

Lean your soul into mine,
map the pain,
the sorrow.
Lightly trace the scars,
the bruises,
they cross and parallel,
merging and circling,
lacing together,
sheltering,
melting in your love.

Gabe's love is comfortable, tangible. I can see now, that I have mourned your death to long. Our youth, our hopes and dreams. I should have let them die with you. Gabe knew this and he has given me years to heal from losing you. That's true love, Andrew. I will love you til the day I die, Andrew. But, Gabe is a love of touches, smells, laughter. A love that is living and breathing.

This is my last note to you, good-bye my dear Andrew.

Tears streamed down Mandy's cheeks as she read the last page. "Mama," her voice cracked.

Gabe, silently rounded the bed. Kneeling he laid his hand on Mandy's shoulder, "I see you found your Mama's real diary," he said.

She nodded, staring at the last page.

"I'm glad, it explains a lot," he whispered," I used to read it while you three were at church. My great patience was because of her diary." He took the book from her, folding the his arm to his chest. "This is the woman I loved, the one that could pour her heart out in this little book." He cupped his hand around Mandy's cheek. "It'll be all right, girl. You go ahead and cry. Your Mama wouldn't have wanted you to hold it back this long."

Mandy clung to him, weeping.

"It'll be all right now. She'll always be with us," Gabe whispered, tightening his grip on Ruby's diary. He thought of the diary he had locked in the safe. The diary for me, the diary of her great love for me!

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