Page 41 of The Stranger in the Mirror

“Not completely, just bits and pieces, but enough for me to know this is where I belong. If things were different... you have to move on. Please, don’t call me anymore. You have to forget about me.” I grip the phone tightly as grief envelops me. I feel as though I’m being ripped in two. Even though I still love Gabriel, I know that in time, when I’m able to fully remember my life with Julian, my feelings for him will recede. Now, it hurts so much to say goodbye. But I know it’s the right thing to do.

“Addy, I can’t promise you that. I’ll leave you alone, but I’ll never forget about you. And I’m only a phone call away.”

The tears come now, and I can hardly speak. “Goodbye, Gabriel,” I choke out, and end the call.

With a shaking hand, I swipe to Gabriel’s contact information and block him. I grab my camera, throw on a parka, and gooutside for that walk. Inhaling the fresh air and being surrounded by nature has a calming effect. I push thoughts of Gabriel from my mind and try to be in the moment. The ground is covered in snow now, the world quiet and peaceful. Two male cardinals are at the bird feeder. One of them drops to the ground, his bright red feathers brilliant against this early November snowfall. I raise the camera to my eyes, adjusting the lens as I focus on the bird. Once I begin, I can’t stop snapping, from the colorful birds to the winter wonderland of pines, so majestic with their snow-covered branches. I’ve already taken hundreds of photographs since I’ve arrived. Lots of Valentina, of course, but for some reason I’m drawn to wildlife now. It’s very different from photographing landscapes. The other day I was delighted to see a family of deer at the fringe of the woods, bordering the back of our property. The sight filled me with joy, the idea that even in nature, we’re meant to be in a family unit.

When I return to the house, I’m feeling better. I take the antidepressant prescribed to me. It’s supposed to make me think more clearly and open the pathways to remembering. Perhaps that’s why I was able to regain some memories of our honeymoon. I’m supposed to take an antianxiety pill in the morning, but it makes me feel even more lethargic and confused then the afternoon pill sometimes does, so I’ve been skipping it. I haven’t told Julian that I’m only taking one of the prescriptions, but I intend to, and I know he’ll back me up. After all, I’m not feeling anxious, so that should prove that I don’t need that extra pill.

I expect Valentina home from school at any moment. Della, another mom who lives a mile away, has been alternating carpool weeks with Julian, but he says soon I’ll be able to take over from him. He wants me to give it a little more time, and I’m fine with that. I grab my coat again and go to the front porch to wait for mydaughter. When I see the car pull in, I hurry down the front steps to open the car door for her.

“Thank you.” I lean over, smiling at Della, and take Valentina’s hand to lead her inside. Her cheeks are rosy, and she shrugs off her coat and removes her gloves the moment we’re through the door. A few seconds after I’ve closed the door, Julian enters.

“You’re home early,” I say. I feel myself blushing and realize that I’m happy to see him.

He holds his arms out to Valentina, who runs to him, and he grins over her head at me. “I decided to cancel my afternoon appointments and spend some time with my two favorite people. What do you say we go out for an early dinner tonight?”

Valentina jumps up and down. “Yes, Daddy, yes.”

He looks at me. “Not ruining any dinner plans you had, am I?”

“No, nothing that can’t wait till tomorrow. That sounds wonderful.”

Julian goes upstairs to change, and I follow Valentina into the kitchen, where I have a snack ready for her.

“Maybe you should only have the carrots and apple slices, since we’ll be going out to dinner. Are you very hungry?” I ask Valentina.

“Hmmm. I guess not,” she says, swinging her legs under the kitchen table and absently fingering a piece of apple.

Julian appears in the kitchen then, now wearing khakis and a button-down. This impromptu outing delights me, and as I look at both of them, my husband and my daughter, I think of all I would have missed if he hadn’t found me. How fitting that it was my love of photography that brought me back to my family.

I feel a happy buzz as we go to the car, but then what I fearedbegins to descend—the wooziness and numb feeling from the afternoon pill. That’s why I hate them, but I can tolerate the side effects better in the evenings. Besides, I don’t dare skip all my medicine; for now, at least, they’ve put a stop to the disturbing images that have plagued me for the past two years.

− 39 −

Cassandra

I watch with amusement as Valentina holds her doll—the one she’s named Hannah—in her lap and reads to her. After a few minutes she looks up from the book. “I’m Hannah’s mommy,” she says. “Daddy’s her grandfather, and you’re her grandmother.”

I laugh. “I know. I’m really happy to have a granddaughter.”

Valentina’s face turns serious. “How come I don’t have a grandmother?”

I feel my body tense. What do I tell her? It feels wrong to tell a seven-year-old that both your parents died in a fiery car crash, so you were raised by a series of strangers in different houses. I don’t want to frighten her after what she and I have been through already. When I think how close Valentina came to suffering the same fate as I—losing a mother—it makes me sick. I decide on a partial truth. “Daddy’s mommy is in heaven now. And my mommy is too. So you do have grandmothers, and they can see everything you do.”

“How can they see me, if I can’t see them?”

“Because we can’t see things in heaven. But everyone in heaven can see us.”

Valentina’s expression becomes serious. “Will you be in heaven when you’re a grandmother?”

I pull her onto my lap. “That’s a long way away, but I plan to be right here.”

“Good,” she says, and leans her head against me. “But if you ever go to heaven, you can take the book I made with you.”

I ruffle her hair and laugh as I look at the sweet little booklet she made in school today. There are four pages of red construction paper, and Valentina has drawn pictures of Julian, herself, and me on one of them. On the front cover she’s glued a photograph of herself.

“I will always keep this book. And as I said, I’m staying right here with you.”

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