~ Five Years Later ~
Unaccustomed to public speaking, let alone coupling it with my debut art exhibition in my hometown, I take a deep, calming breath in a bid to relax my frayed nerves. I’ve worked too hard though, and I refuse to allow a few butterflies to take this away from me.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” I say in a confident voice. “I’m Emerson Hart, and I’d like to thank you all so much for being here this evening.”
A light round of applause affords me a few moments to take a quick sip of water and to glance around, marvelling one more time at the fact that my art adorns the walls. The fact that at least fifty people, including a few I recognise from school, are in attendance, blows my mind.
Removing the microphone from its stand, I move to the side of the podium. “I found my love of art right here in this town when I was ten years old. It gave me a way to express how I felt about everything and everyone around me. It was a gift and a lifeline. I attended a travelling art show as a teenager, imagining what it would be like to be an exhibiting artist.” I take a few steps closer to the first drawing and sense the eyes of everyone in the room on me. I turn to face them. “As some of you would know, days after I became an adult, I lost my best friend and, for a long time, I was unable to find peace with it. He had shown me how to love and be loved.” A sense of deep calm washes over me, and I know whatever the response to my work is doesn’t matter. My plan is to finish my speech, mingle for a few hours, then head down to the river to tell Mereki all about it. He won’t be there like he was for so many years, a real-to-me figure that I could latch on to. But he’ll listen, and he’ll be proud of me and that’s enough. “Thanks to the help of some very special people I met five years later, I was able to find peace, partly through art and partly through remembering how to use my wings. I’m strong and resilient in my own right, and I’ll fly high enough for him and for me.” A louder round of applause startles me and I smile appreciatively, waiting for quiet before continuing. “What you’re seeing here tonight has been a beautiful kind of therapy for me, and I sincerely hope you take something for yourself from my journey.” A lump forms in my throat, but I swallow past it and smile. “Thank you so much for being here this evening. It means a great deal to me. I’d be happy to answer any questions you might have as you take a look around.” I smile while the audience applauds.
I’m blocking the first painting, so I move to the side as the crowd hustles towards it.
A woman with greying auburn hair and squinty blue eyes studies it for a few moments before saying, “You appear so lonely.”
I’ve admitted my work is autobiographical, so of course she assumes the girl in the painting is me as a child. I’m walking down an empty street in a non-descript country town, dressed in dirty, ragged clothing. On my head, I’m wearing bright orange antennae attached to a headband—the one Jacob cruelly ripped off and trampled on. There are other people in the painting, but all their backs are turned to the little girl.
“I was lonely,” I reply candidly.
“Why are you wearing antennae?” she asks. “Is it an existential metaphor?”
I smile, shaking my head. “It’s quite literal, actually. I always felt like an outsider, so I pretended I was an alien adventurer from another planet where no one questioned appearances because we all looked the same.”
“I see your loneliness and fear, but it makes me feel hopeful.” The auburn-haired woman waves her hand in a sweeping motion over the top of the canvas. “The colours in the distance are brighter. You’re walking towards the light.”
I smile at the woman. “Loneliness, fear, and hope. Three emotions I’m familiar with.”
“Hope is a dangerous emotion,” she says. “It can be just as destructive as fear and hate.”
“That’s very true, but what do we have without hope?”
She appears to contemplate my words, then says, “Well, I’m intrigued to continue your journey.”
I wave my hand in front of me, indicating she should move on to the next drawing. “Thank you for taking the time to really look.”
She smiles. “Thank you for sharing your talent with us.”
A waiter walks past and I refuse the champagne, opting instead for a mineral water. I smile over the rim of my glass when I see Zoey on the other side of the room chatting to Eric, Kaye, Tenn, and Brooke, who is now a huge star thanks to her role as the sexy artist’s muse. I’m so touched they made the journey. Zoey’s floral crown is bursting with colour this evening, and I can’t see any missing petals. It fills my heart with joy seeing her look happy and relaxed in her own skin. She makes eye contact with me and waves.
“You did it, sweetheart.”
I smile as I turn around and step straight into Madeleine’s embrace. “I was a nervous wreck,” I reply as I pull away.
“I know, but you owned it, and I’m so proud of you.”
My eyes sting with overflowing emotion. “Thank you for everything. I couldn’t have done this without you and—”
“This is amazing,” Zoey says, cutting me off with an excessively tight embrace. “You are amazing.”
“Thank you,” I squeak.
Mercifully, she releases me and I drag in a breath.
“Zoey,” I say when I’ve composed myself. “You remember Madeleine?” I wave my hand between them. “Madeleine. Zoey is one of my friends. She was in that first art therapy class I took in your gallery.”
They shake hands warmly.
“Well if you’ll excuse me,” Madeleine says, placing her hand on my shoulder. “I’ve just seen John Foster. He said he wants to discuss exhibiting your work in Sydney. I better go and say hello.” She turns to Zoey. “It was lovely to meet you.”
“Thanks again,” I say, sincerely. “This is beyond my wildest dreams.”
“It’s no more or less than you deserve, my darling.”
With that, she floats away. My guardian angel is the most elegant, selfless and genuinely kind woman I’ve ever met and, when I count my blessings these days, she’s one of the many I count twice.
“I cheated a little,” Zoey says, scrunching up her nose.
“What do you mean?” I ask, tearing my gaze from Madeleine’s retreating form.
“I skipped over the first paintings, looking for the ones I might recognise.”
I laugh. “That’s totally fine. They don’t have to be viewed in any kind of order. They can be standalones, too.”
“I’m so happy for you, Emerson.” She shakes her head, smiling. “We all knew you were destined for greatness.”
“Sure you did,” I reply, chuckling.
“We did!” she retorts firmly, with a gentle push on my shoulder.
When I’ve put in another hour of mingling, I slip out the side door. Madeleine saw me and nodded, so I know she’ll cover for me if necessary.
The warm November air wraps around me as I walk away from the gallery. It’s still light, but the sun is low on the horizon as I head out of town and down the once familiar path to the river. I had specifically asked for the exhibition to be held on November the nineteenth for this very reason, and as the river comes into view, I see the loves of my life.
“Hey,” I call out, and the most handsome faces in the world turn to the sound of my voice.
“Mama.” My little boy calls out and runs towards me. “Caught a fish, Mama.”
The excitement in his voice and on his face nearly brings me to my knees. I scoop him up when he reaches me, and he kisses me on the cheek. “Where is it?” I ask, turning my free palm up.
“He made me kiss it, then we let it go,” Josh says, scrunching up his nose and making Ky belly laugh. “How did it go, gorgeous?” he asks me, taking Ky from my arms. “I can’t believe you wouldn’t let us come.”
I look him in the eyes and smile. “It was perfect. I know you wanted to be there, but I would’ve been too emotional. I needed to know you’d be down here waiting for me.”
“I’ll be wherever you want me to be, my love, but wild horses won’t keep me from the next one.”
“Deal.” I reach up and place my lips on his, closing my eyes as I feel him press into me.
“No kissing.” A little hand pushes us apart. Josh tickles his sides, turning our three-and-a-half-year-old into a squirming tornado.
“We’ll give you some privacy?” my thoughtful, gorgeous husband says.
I nod. “Stay close by. Okay?”
“Of course.” He kisses the side of my head, takes Ky by the hand, picks up the fishing rod, and moves a little way along the river.
The second Josh places Ky down, he grabs the rod. Watching them bait the hook, a deep sense of calm washes over me. Turning away from them, I stare out across the slowly flowing water. Despite the decade that has passed since Mereki died and the five years since I found peace with it, I can still see him, and I still love him in my own way. I had thought once I said my goodbyes, it would be over and he’d be completely gone from my life.
It was Josh who suggested I keep this pact to come back here every five years. “He was the most important person in your life, and he is a part of who you’ll always be. There’s no reason to try to forget him as long as you don’t let his memory stop you from moving forward,” he’d said.
It was Josh who made sure I talked about him. I’ve even found him reading Mereki’s stories to our son. I asked him once if he ever felt threatened by Mereki’s ghost, and he shook his head and said, “I’m grateful to the boy who offered you friendship when you needed it then loved you the way you deserved to be loved for as long as he could.” He’d picked up my hand and kissed my wedding band. “Mereki and I are the lucky bastards who know what it’s like to be loved by Emerson Hart.” He’d looked at me with love in his eyes. “I’m not threatened by a ghost. He’s the best man I never knew.”
I close my eyes and smile as the breeze picks up around me. I whisper, “Hey, Mereki.”
Rustling leaves, the occasional bird call, the whirr of the fishing line as it’s cast into the water. These are the sounds I hear, and when I open my eyes, I see him. He’s smiling at me, as handsome as ever, holding up his right hand in a wave.
“Another five years, but you remember what we agreed?” I raise my eyebrows. “No matter what.” I pause. I had a whole speech planned out, but now I’m here, I can’t remember a single thing I wanted to say. I glance over at Josh and he meets my gaze, nodding his encouragement. I bite my bottom lip, then turn back to the river, to the first love of my life. “I got married, and we have a son.” I hold up my left hand and stare at my wedding band. I refuse to wear anything too extravagant, so it’s a simple gold band, but its significance is my whole world. “Our son’s name is Ky, and he’s a keen fisherman. I like to think you’re watching out for him and maybe giving him a few tips.” I tuck my hair behind my ears and take a deep breath. It feels so good to talk to him again, and now I don’t want to stop. “Your mum and dad are so amazing with Ky. They’re teaching him all about your culture, and he adores them. We try to visit as often as we can.” I shake my head. “Nope. I still have no idea where my mum is, but honestly, my life is so full, I wish her well and hope she found happiness. Sometimes I think you have to find your own family.” I look over at Josh and Ky. I think about his family and how completely they’ve embraced me. I think about Mereki’s parents who have always treated me like the daughter they never had and that I’ve given them a grandchild with another on the way. I pat my still-flat stomach knowing it won’t be that way for much longer. “I think this one’s going to be a girl.” I smile at the memory of Mereki’s nickname for me. “Her name will be Kalimna or Kali for short.” I stand up taller and push my shoulders back, not wanting to cry but knowing it’s inevitable. I could blame early pregnancy hormones, or I could acknowledge that I’m about to tell him exactly what I know he’d want to hear. “I’m really happy, Mereki. I’m loved and I love with all my heart. I’ve even achieved my dream of being a working artist, but I know ultimately, what you wanted was my happiness.” I swipe both happy and sad tears away from my cheeks. “I miss you so much, but I’m in love and I’m loved.” I blow a kiss across my upturned palm, then raise my hand. “See you in five years.”
I turn, knowing Josh and Ky are approaching. “Are you okay?” Josh whispers.
I nod, giving him a smile that can’t quite reach my eyes.
“I love you,” he says when he reaches me.
“I love you, too,” I reply, wrapping one arm around his waist and the other around our son’s shoulders.
“I love you three,” Ky says, giggling.
We walk away from the special place by the river, but I’ll be back in five years’ time to tell Mereki all about how I’m living my life for the both of us. As I always knew it would, our love transcended all.
This is love, my way.