Chapter 3

I’ll drown my beliefs
To have you be in peace
I’ll dress like your niece
To wash your swollen feet

Just don’t leave
Don’t leave

I’m not living
I’m just killing time
Your tiny hands
Your crazy kitten smile

Just don’t leave
Don’t leave

And true love waits
In haunted attics
And true love lives
On lollipops and crisps

Just don’t leave
Don’t leave

Just don’t leave
Don’t leave

True Love Waits – Radiohead

*****

“Roger?  Oh God – Roger!”

He couldn’t be dead – he just couldn’t.

He lay curled up in ball, his skin was as cold as ice.  I reached out and shook him again.  When he moaned I finally let go of the huge breath I had taken.

He rolled onto his back and began to open his eyes.

“Addie…” he whispered hoarsely.

“Are you hurt?  What do you need me to do?” I asked.

“I’m…” he began, wincing in pain. “I’m fine.  Help me up.”

I helped him to his feet and together we limped into the house.  We went to the bedroom and he settled himself on the bed.

“I thought you were dead,” I said, lightly resting my hand on his knee.

“No, I’m not dead.  Well,” he laughed, “not any more dead than I already was.”

“What happened?”

“I… I don’t really know.  I went downtown and just wandered around a bit.  I remember looking into a few of the shops.  Then something hit me on the head.  Hard.”  He swallowed and took a deep breath.  “Adelaide,” he began, “there’s something I have to tell you.”

I smiled and leaned towards him.

“Don’t,” I replied.  “Whatever you think you have to tell me, it’s not important.  You’re here – you’re okay.  That’s all that matters to me.”

He smiled back at me and put his hands around my face.

“I love you Adelaide,” he said.

“I love you too,” I whispered.  I kissed him tenderly, and I once again thanked God that he was okay.

“Is there anything you need?  Anything I can do?” I asked when our lips had parted.

“You’re the only thing I need right now,” he said.

I crawled into bed next to him and let myself get carried away.  Roger was so sweet, so gentle and caring, you would have thought I was the one who needed to be taken care of.

When we were finished, I put on my underclothes and began making the bed.  Roger began to laugh.

“What are you doing?” he asked between chuckles.

“Hiding the evidence I guess,” I told him.

“The… evidence?” he asked slowly.

“We’re not married; what if someone found out what we just did?  What would they think?”  I realized immediately how stupid I sounded.

Roger came around the bed and gathered me in his arms.

“I keep forgetting you’re from a different time,” he said smiling.

“Well…”

“Would it make you feel better if…” he began.

“… I made an honest woman out of you?”  He was down on one knee and smiling up into my face.  My stomach began doing flips over itself.

“What are you saying?” I asked.  I knew what he was saying, but I couldn’t help but play coy.

“Adelaide, light of my life, my one, my only – would you do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?”

We both giggled at his pompousness.

“You don’t have a ring,” I said wickedly.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he replied with a wink.  He reached under the bed and pulled out a small package that had been tucked neatly into the box spring.

“Will this do?” he asked.

He held the ring out for me and I took it from him greedily.  It was very similar to the ring I had worn so long ago… the ring Pasha had given me.

“It’s not a real diamond, I’m afraid,” he said.  “It may not be much, but it’s all I could afford.”

I looked at the ring and smiled.

“It’s perfect,” I told him.

I slipped the ring on my finger and Roger continued to smile up at me.

“I take that as a yes?” he asked.

“Yes!” I squealed.

Roger jumped to his feet and I flung myself into his waiting arms.

“I was kind of afraid you’d say no,” he said.

“I thought about it,” I said teasingly.  We kissed and I heard his stomach growl.

“Pizza or Chinese?  Or would you rather go out?” I asked.

“Hmmm… pizza, I think.”

He gave a quick sniff under his arm and grimaced.

“But I’m going to take a bath first,” he said.

Roger went to take a bath and I finished making the bed before throwing on some clothes.  I let down my braid and ran my hands through my long, wavy locks.  After tying my hair back with a ribbon, I finally faced the portrait that was hanging on the wall.  I had promised myself that if Roger returned home and was safe, that I would take the portrait down.  I lifted the canvas from the wall and carried Pasha to the basement.  It was over – my life with Pasha was gone and it was absolutely never coming back.  If I ever expected to be happy, I would have to move on.  I did love Roger, and I wanted to marry him… but it was just so hard to reconcile myself to the fact that my youthful dreams were shattered.

I spent a great deal of time making sure Pasha was hanging straight on the wall above my coffin.  I didn’t hear Roger come down the basement stairs.

“Here you are!” he said cheerfully.  “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Making sure Pasha is straight,” I replied.

“Why did you move him?  You were so adamant that he stay in the bedroom.”

I turned to Roger and grabbed his hand.

“I love you.  And I want to make a life with you,” I told him.  “I don’t think I can do that with the constant reminder of the things I’ve lost.  Besides,” I said throwing my head towards the portrait behind me, “I don’t think he would approve if we were to continue doing… what we did… with him in the room.”

“Only if you’re sure,” Roger replied.

“I’m sure,” I said with a smile.  “And who knows? Maybe someday I’ll be ready to take down the portrait and move on completely.”

“But there’s no rush – I just want you to be happy,” he assured me again.

He looked up at the portrait and gave a little smile.

“I can’t lie though,” he said, “it feels nice to win one.”

We ordered a pizza, and when we were done eating, we buried the body in the frozen ground.

“How about a little dessert?” Roger said slyly as we put away the shovel.

And so we found ourselves back in bed.

We held each other for a long time, and didn’t say a word.  Finally, when the sky began to lighten, Roger got up to put on his pajamas.  I pulled on my housecoat and went out onto the porch to watch the stars wink out of the sky.

“You keep getting away from me,” Roger chuckled, wrapping his arms around me from behind.

“Spring will be coming soon.  A new beginning.  A new life.”

“That’s deep,” he replied.

I turned in his arms and kissed him.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“I’m just so… happy,” I replied.  And I was.  It was as if a weight had been lifted from me.

Roger smiled at me.

“I know what you mean.  It’s like,” he said, taking a deep breath, “like everything will be okay from now on.  I can’t explain it.  But I just know that everything will be okay.”

I looked at him with wonder – it was as if he had just read my mind.

“It’s almost sunrise,” he whispered, and kissed me again.

We went downstairs to the basement and crawled into our separate coffins.  It wasn’t until I was almost asleep that I realized that for the first time, I had passed by Pasha’s portrait without pause.

Yes, things were definitely going to be okay.

And things were okay, until the next evening when Roger and I awoke and he went to his computer.

“ARRRGGGHHH!  Oh my God woman!  WHAT DID YOU DO?”

Oops… I had kind of forgotten about that.

I left the hallway quietly to get dressed, and I wasn’t sure, but it sounded a little like Roger was crying.

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