In Tune by Love Gordon
He sat the paper and pen on the table. No one was up this late. This was his last night alone in the old Lane house. Janey had moved out four years before when she and Tom married. Mom and Dad bought a second house in Costa Rica, which they shared with Penny. Most of Summer’s kids were grown up now. Wind had been happily married to his tenth wife, Mariette, for seven years.
All his friends had grown up, moved along. Jesse and Monique had two kids, Nick’s daughter was in high school, Max relocated to LA in ’05 and hadn’t been heard from since. The band dissolved even before Daria’s death.
Daria. That’s the reason he was sitting there at four in the morning. In eight hours, he was marrying the love of his life, who happened to be her sister. Somehow, he felt, this was the time for a final farewell. He’d never really moved beyond the impasse of her love, and, ultimately, her death. Quinn was the way out, but, somehow, he couldn’t enter into their union of souls without bringing about a conclusion to the events that had brought them together.
Trent set his pen against the ivory paper.
Somehow
I couldn’t forget you. No matter how much I love your sister, I always felt I
was betraying you by letting go. But I understand now, that I’ve already let
go. I’m moving on, changing, learning new things.
It was
not the true love that Quinn and I have; that much I know. But somehow, I
always felt that you were in tune – intuitive?- to people. You were so in tune
to me. You knew everyone as well as you knew yourself, maybe even better. You
loved everyone; you were in love with everyone. Even the people you hated. Maybe
you knew the cancer would come back. You were so vivid in your emotions, towards the end, I forgot that
at first, it was always like you were holding your emotions back, because you
didn’t want to commit to anything. But you held in for the long run, even if
your body didn’t. I hope you know that people loved you, too.
I did.
He didn’t sign the note. Putting it in his pocket, he shrugged on a jacket, for the weather this February was surprisingly cold. He got into his car, and drove the few miles to the cemetery. As he placed the note in front of the gravestone, he took a good look at the stone for the first time.
Daria Ann
Morgendorffer
November 16,
1982 – February 13, 2001.
Beloved
daughter, sister, and friend. May she rest in peace.
He hadn’t realized it, but he was getting married on the twelfth anniversary of her death. An end, and a new beginning.
As he drove away, a gust of wind picked up the note, blowing it up into the air.
To a higher place, up there in the sky?