Page 104 of Angelika Frankenstein Makes Her Match
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Everything would be all right. Wouldn’t it?
It was dawn again. Angelika didn’t know how many dawns had tried to creep past her drawn drapes by this point; all she knew was Arlo had died twice more, and his breaths were so shallow she couldn’t hear them over her own heartbeat as she lay beside him with her head on his pillow. She could nolonger lift her heavy limbs, and she only sipped at water or broth when forced.
“Should I let you go now?” The question she asked Arlo broke her heart. “Am I being cruel to you?”
“Nobody has ever fought this hard,” Lizzie said from the armchair. “And nobody has ever loved a man this much. But, Jelly.” She choked up then, coughed, and wiped her eyes. “If he goes one more time, you need to let him.”
Angelika knew there were no more arguments she could make. “Victor would call that natural science. But I will miss you,” she said, putting her cheek into the wasting dip on his chest. “And I will join you soon,” she added, too quiet for Lizzie to hear. Louder, she asked in a rasping voice, “Is it unscientific to request a miracle?”
“I don’t think so,” Lizzie said, and the door handle turned.
A miracle was speedily supplied.
“Dark as a tomb,” Mary said with evident disgust from the doorway. “And the smell.”
“Mary,” both women gasped.
“I heard I’m required,” Mary replied primly. She rounded the end of the bed, took ahold of the drapes, and threw them apart with violence, letting in the pale dawn light. Wiping at the condensation on the glass with her ragged sleeve, she continued. “I heard there’s a young woman in this household dying of a broken heart.”
“It’s true,” Angelika said. She felt herself being rolled by the shoulder, and now she was looking up at Mary. “You’ve been out in the forest, and I have cried every moment since.”
“You’re always embellishing,” Mary countered, but she had a faint smile on her face. “So you’ve decided to just give up, and follow him? They tell me downstairs that you have stopped eating. And bathing.” Her gaze flickered over to Arlo,and she winced at what she saw. The old woman thought for a minute, and then apparently made a decision. “My husband died on the eve of my thirtieth birthday.”
“That’s young,” Angelika replied. “I didn’t know you were ever young.”
Mary ignored that. “And when my William died, I had a decision to make. Would I lie down and die next to him, too?”
“You obviously didn’t,” Lizzie said, when the pressure of the silence was too great. She winced under the stare Mary cut in her direction. “I will go and get Angelika some broth, and some more cloths...” She was gone in a blink.
“I have done nothing but keep him alive,” Angelika confided, her parched throat barely able to finish the words. “I’ve kept him alive, and I’ve waited for you, Mary. I am more sorry than you’ll ever know.”
Mary put a hand on Angelika’s forehead and smoothed back her hair. “I do know.” She put a hand into her apron pocket and produced a brooch. “I took this, and you are within your rights to hang me.”
“I don’t care about a green stone.” Angelika was out of tears. There was little liquid left in her body, but she allowed Mary to lift her up on the pillows to take a sip from a cup. “I don’t tell people things in time. I say things in the wrong order, or assume that people know. The emerald is yours, and I was making you a cottage.”
“I know. Adam told me.”
Under the blankets, Angelika slipped her hand into Arlo’s icy palm. “How is Adam?”
“He will follow Will in a few days, I think.” The old woman was brisk, but Angelika could see a glassiness in her eyes. “We did our best, miss.”
“I didn’t.” Even as she said it, Angelika realized it wasn’t true. “No, actually, I did all I could.”
“Did you tell him, then?” Mary nodded at Arlo. “You said you don’t tell people things in time. Did you tell him everything you needed to?”
Angelika nodded. A sensation began to unfold in her chest: an easing of a tightness she had held and nurtured for days. “I did tell him, Mary. From the minute I brought him back that first time, I told him that I loved him, in different ways, and he knew it.”
“Then you have done well, and it is time to lay him down.” Mary cupped a hand on Angelika’s cheek, just like she used to do when she was a child. “You will be all right. I’m here now. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” She glanced up, and her characteristic fierce frown formed. “Get that pig out of here.”
“Mary. Jolly good, we may need a third hand for this.” Victor stumbled into the room, looking every inch as exhausted as his sister. Belladonna was indeed in the doorway behind him. He set a tray of implements on the bed, where they slid around and clanged. “Oh, holy hell,” Victor cursed, putting a hand into his hair.
Angelika’s heart squeezed in sympathy. “Vic. It’s time.”
“Yes, exactly. I’ve only just gotten this finished now.” He held up a long, strange strip of what appeared to be flesh. “I can’t sew half as well as you, and I have failed so many times, but I think this is the one.” He gave Lizzie a kiss on the cheek when she came to his side. “Hello, Lizzie. We are going to give him one more turn around the mortal maypole.”
Angelika shook her head. “Listen to me. It’s time to let him go. It’s time to just... pray. We will be with him as he leaves, and we will let him rest in peace.”
