Together Forever
February 14, present year
OUR LOVE IS yesterday, today, and forever.
Sitting at an antique roll-top desk, Stefan Tarrant scrawled the words onto the handmade greeting card, de-picting the view from the bedroom window—Boston Harbor, alive with the Tall Ships, their white sails unfurl-ing in the breeze. He shook his head, laughing silently as he looked from the writing to his hands. How could he paint such breathtaking images, and yet write with such disgrace? He hoped Katherine could decipher the words their eight years of marriage had inspired.
He gazed at the bed where his wife lay, the curls of her shoulder-length blond hair tousled from the night’s sleep. Her slow, steady breathing assured him she still slumbered. With the stealth of a cat, he tiptoed toward her to place the card on the nightstand. The heat of passion burned him as his eyes lingered on her figure, her chest rising and falling with each breath. The straps of her creamy, lacy nightgown had slipped, revealing her slender shoulders. Lower down, it had bunched up around her waist, exposing the belly button he loved to ex-plore. He ran his fingers along her cheeks and down her throat.
Shifting her position, she turned on her side. Her eyes fluttered open. She smiled, placing her hand over his. “Happy anniversary. You’re up early.”
“Shh.” He touched her lips. “It’s bad luck to break tradition.”
He returned to his side of the bed and crawled beneath the covers, scooting closer to her. “Why did the cookie go to the doctor?”
She groaned. “Can’t you at least tell a new joke?”
With a shake of his head, he wiggled his fingers for her to answer.
“Because he felt crummy.” She leaned closer to whisper into his ear, exaggerating the words with a French accent. “Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth: for thy love is better than wine.”
He obliged her with the requested kisses, unlike the first time she had challenged him with those words. They had met at a beauty pageant in Paris years ago, where seventeen-year-old Katherine Armand was a con-testant. He and his college friends watched from the back row. When she smiled at him, his stomach flip-flopped. Afterward, she sought him out to introduce herself. He’d been so tongue-tied, he responded with the stupid cookie joke. She giggled when she answered with the punchline, afterward reciting the beautiful verse from the Song of Solomon. Glancing over her shoulder several times as she walked away, she smiled, while he stared with his mouth agape. The whirlwind romance that followed led them to the altar a year later.
Stefan’s lips and hands now traversed her body. He kissed her nose. “Katherine?”
“Mmmm.” With dilated pupils and parted lips, she trailed her fingertips down his chest.
He leaned toward her and nibbled her earlobe. “Let’s have another baby. Sonia’s already in school. She needs a little brother.”
Her breathing accelerated. “When?”
“I was thinking now.”
Snuggling closer, she lifted her face, brushed her lips against his, and whispered, “Yes.”
***
THE BELL ABOVE the door of the out-of-the-way antique shop in historic Salem jingled when Stefan opened it. A blast of warm air whooshed around him as he entered the dark, misty room, pungent from fragrant candles and incense. Dusty shelves overflowed with bizarre figurines and bottles containing strange, unidentifiable con-coctions. This was his last hope to find a special gift for Katherine.
He picked up an hourglass. Two black-robed grim reapers stood opposite each other; their hands rested on a bar in the middle, while their scythes lay at their sides. He turned the glass over. The fine white sand trickled down, filling the bottom globe.
Raising his eyebrows, he chuckled, the corners of his mouth curling into a playful grin. “Certainly not a gift for Katherine.”
A woman with white hair, peppered with black, appeared at his side. She lifted her soft-gray, catlike eyes to him. “Hello,” she said with a thick Eastern European accent. “May I help you look for something?”
“I hope you can.” He crammed the bizarre item back on the shelf in a hurry. “I’m looking for a bracelet or a ring, something unusual. My wife loves antiques.”
“You’ve come to the right place.” She reached out to reposition the hourglass, revealing a flower tattooed on her age-spotted hand. “The jewelry is at the back.”
Hindered by the cramped aisles, he followed her at a snail’s pace. From one of the shelves, he fingered a small glass bottle decorated with gold and pearls in the shape of a heart. The amber liquid inside sparkled. He laughed after reading the label: Love Potion. When he unscrewed the cover, the liquid remedy revealed its aph-rodisiacs—vanilla, citrus, and something sweet-smelling, perhaps honey.
The woman looked over her shoulder. Her eyes glittered like the liquid. “Please look around; don’t be afraid.” An amused tone crept into her voice. “We have many love potions. That one is our most popular with women of all ages. It brings new desire into a relationship. One of its main ingredients is orange, which acts like a magnet to attract men and bring the wearer eternal love and happiness.”
She removed the cap from another bottle. Spearmint and woodsy scents drifted out. “Or perhaps you’d be interested in a love potion designed for men. This one stimulates both body and mind. It produces a mood of creative playfulness.”
Chuckling again, he put the bottle back on the shelf. Katherine would be amused when he told her about it. “I don’t need it yet, but maybe for our fiftieth anniversary.”
The woman continued to the back. “I have the perfect piece of jewelry for you. Let me see where I put it.” She looked inside a few cupboards. “Here it is.” After dusting the top of a blue velvet box, she opened it. “Yes, yes, this is it. I think this is what you’ve been searching for.” She handed it to him.
The box held an exquisite golden ring with an unusual blue stone, a luminous star with six rays spreading out from its center. A golden crown, embedded with small blue chips, surrounded its outer edge. Stefan picked it up, holding it in his palm. It radiated warmth. How unusual. The image in the stone wavered while he exam-ined it; black eyes stared back at him. He jerked his head up to look at the shopkeeper.
“Is something wrong?” A smile flitted across her face.
He glanced at the stone again. Only a blue star. “No. I thought I saw ... It was nothing.” Stefan shook his head. Despite the warmth of the shop, the tiny hairs on his arms stood up.
I need to get more sleep. My eyes are playing tricks on me.
The woman spoke with soft words. “The ring is quite old. The gentleman who sold it to me claimed it’ll guide its owner to his true love.”
“I’ll take it. It’s the perfect gift for my true love, my wife.”
***
THE CLOCK TOWER struck seven when the limo pulled up to Katherine’s favorite French restaurant, situated by the waterfront in the Back Bay. The familiar cacophony of the city greeted Stefan as he got out. Scents of American, French, and Italian cuisine wafted around him in the brisk wintery air. Tiny snowflakes, driven by the wind gusts, shimmered in the headlights of the passing vehicles. He extended his hand to his wife. As she stretched her long legs from the vehicle, her black pumps clicked on the walkway. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he escorted her inside.
In the marble-tiled foyer, he relieved her of her coat, and handed it, along with his leather jacket, to the at-tendant, tipping the youth. While they waited to be seated, Stefan traced his finger along the heart cutout on the back of her chiffon dress, its red complementing her royal blue eyes.
“My lovely Valentine, such a perfect rose.” He leaned closer, kissing her cheeks and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
The maître d’ led them to the small, informal dining room. The steady rhythm of Katherine’s heels sof-tened as they moved from the dark hardwood floor to a periwinkle-blue area rug on the way to their window-side table. A bottle of champagne chilling on ice awaited them.
In the lounge next to the dining area, a musician played a saxophone. The lights of the sconces lining the walls reflected off the instrument. At other tables, couples laughed, conversed, or gazed into each other’s eyes, celebrating the day dedicated to lovers.
After they placed their orders, Stefan stood and bowed to Katherine. “Dance with me, my beautiful wife. They’re playing—”
“Don’t say it.” She laughed. “That’s so cliché.”
“A slow waltz.”
Tapping him on the shoulder, she shook her head. “You’re hopeless. That’s not what you were going to say.”
The notes of the saxophone sprinkled them like a gentle summer rain as they connected soul to soul. Kath-erine’s sensual body moved in time with his, heating his blood. Amber light from the chandelier frolicked across her—a nymph dancing under the moon’s glow. He breathed in the citrus scent of her perfume as the song ended.
“I’m ravished.” He released her hand. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he drew her closer to him. “Maybe we should continue this dance at home.”
“You’re insatiable.” She smiled as she pushed him away and dragged him back to the table where their food was being served. “I’m not leaving here without trying my grilled lobster and a taste of your cider-glazed duck.”
“Perhaps I’ll have some oyster stew to start.” He winked. “It might work as well as the love potion the woman in the antique store wanted to sell me.”
Katherine tilted her head. “A love potion in an antique shop?”
“Now that you mention it, that was rather strange.” He pulled out her chair, and pushed it in as she sat.
After he seated himself, the waiter popped the cork and poured the champagne.
Stefan raised his glass. “A toast to the lovely lady I want to spend forever with.”
“À ta santé.” She clinked glasses with him, the sound melding with the notes of the jazz music. “To the love of my life. Thank you for bringing me so much happiness. I knew the moment I saw you that we were meant to be together.”
Stefan reached across the table, took hold of her hand, and brought it to his lips. “I have a special gift for you.” He released her hand, withdrew a box from his jacket pocket, and kneeled in front of her. “For the woman I would marry all over again.” He opened the box and removed the ring.
Katherine blinked away a tear. “Mon cher, it’s beautiful.” She leaned forward to kiss him. “I’m sure if our next child is a son, he’ll grow to be tall, dark, and handsome like his father.”
“Now who’s using clichés?” Stefan chuckled. “It’s a mystical blue star, shining like your eyes. It even has some ancient writing on the band.”
He placed it on her finger. It fit as if it had been made for her.
***
THE WIND HOWLED around the bay, blowing biting snow into their faces. Several inches had accumulated by the time Stefan and Katherine left the restaurant. A mixture of sand and rock salt covered the icy walkway, but drifts continued to grow. They hurried into the shelter of the warm limo. He wrapped his arm around her as she nestled close to him.
The wheels spun as the driver merged into the congested traffic.
Stefan grew drowsy and closed his eyes. As he listened to the soothing beat of the wipers thumping against the windshield, he counted the stops along Boylston Street. Now turn left onto Berkeley. More stop and go, until finally a right onto Storrow Drive.
He caressed Katherine’s hair. Not much longer now, love. We’ll be home soon to continue our celebration.
“Get out of my way!” The driver blasted the horn.
Stefan’s eyes flew open as the car swerved, then skidded across the intersection like a bobsled racing down a hill. Katherine screamed. He tightened his arms around her. Twin beams of light shone through the window, growing larger. Metal crunched and glass shattered. Katherine was wrenched away from him. The limo spun in circles, finally slamming into a guardrail.
He opened his eyes. “Katherine?”
Excruciating pain shot up his shoulder when he twisted his body. Her head, leaning against the smashed window, lay at a crooked angle. With the seatbelt restraining her body, her shoulders slumped forward.
“Katherine?” Stefan whispered. “Please say something.”
He touched her cheek, as white as the snow outside. A red trickle flowed from her ear, matting her curls. Her eyes remained closed.
“Katherine!” He shouted her name until his voice grew hoarse. Then his lips mouthed the word over and over.
The blustery storm spread its arms around them, coating the vehicle white. Snowflakes drifted through the shattered windows, chilling him. A blue light, flashing like a beacon to guide weary travelers home, reflected off the ring, illuminating the darkness like a newborn star.
