The Fourth Sunrise Part 18

"Christine looked me in the eyes and said, *I can't. Not like this. I can't treat my family as if they were my prison sentence. I love my two kids more than anyone will ever know and I never want them to feel that they were my prison.'

"Then she paused and looked in my eyes and said *Joel, I did mess up, but my mistake gave me the two most important people in my life. My children. I owe it to them not to leave their dad on the grounds that he's dull.'

"*It would be on the grounds that you found me,' I said pleading.

"*Joel, you need to hear what I'm about to say. In my heart I have an abundance of love. To the right of my heart, I have a family and I love them dearly and it feels all the right side of the heart. But you see, Joel, there is this other side, the left side, where my heart is full also. It is where I met the man of my dreams, the absolute most perfect person G.o.d could have designed for me. Joel... that's you.'

"I looked at Christine and knew once again that it wasn't enough. *The problem is the right side fills most of your ear. It spills over to the left and nearly drowns me out.'

"*It's a mother's instinct to be there for her kids above everything else, even the man of her dreams.'

"*You believe that? That I'm the man of your dreams."

"*Yes, I do. I always have. Life threw me a curveball as much as it threw you one. You need to understand, Joel, you are with me every day. Not a day goes by that something doesn't fill that left side with love because I am reminded of you. You see, I cherish you and I need you. But I do it from a distance, so I can see. I love you more than I ever have. But I have to do it from afar.'

"I paused and took everything in and said, *You don't plan on going anytime soon, do you? You gave yourself an out by saying "organically." The truth in your mind is that you could probably handle seeing me again in fifteen more years because all you need is for me to fulfill your fantasy with my letters each month.' I held in my tears but knew I had to tell her how I had been suffering without her. *I can't live like that. I can't reside there any longer. I gave you my last plea for my love and you made your choice, and now I must make mine.' I paused and took in a deep breath. *My heart, my joy, you are all I have ever wanted in this world but I will have to part ways from you forever. I can't ever see you again. It is too heart-wrenching, trying to live this life without you. This is it, Christine. My love for you is abundant, but to say it knows no bounds would be a lie, because my love has boundaries. My love has limits. This is where I must say goodbye to you. This is also where I must ask you one last question.'

"Christine was absolutely stunned. She managed to muster out, *Okay.'

Present a" On the road to Aspen, Colorado, 4:30 a.m.

"How did you part?"

"We did what we do best at the sunrise. We slow danced. We just danced until there was nothing else to do but leave. We left without saying a word."

Megan was quiet and I could tell she was debating how she was going to speak to me. I wasn't sure if she was struggling with telling me anything at all or if she was trying to figure the correct way of saying it.

Finally, she said, "You still came tonight? Why?"

"I love your mother. I love her with all that I am. From the day I met her and fell in love, I have never quit loving her. Can I ask you a question? Why tonight?"

"Because, just like something you said earlier: *Sometimes the stars are aligned just right.' I'm going to add that sometimes the stars are aligned just right for a miracle to happen. Joel, you need to hear this. Like I said, my mom shows signs of coming out of her coma. I'm scared to ask you something, not because I'm afraid you won't do it, but I'm afraid you'll do it and she still won't wake up. I told you earlier that my mom and I were close. You see, Joel, I could feel her needing answers, needing something that was in my reach, but not in hers. Something I could attain."

"I'm not a doctor and I won't be able to heal her. Only G.o.d and the hospital can do that."

"But I know there was a journey that I was supposed to experience, a journey that led me to find you, Joel."

"You found me. Tell me, how I can help?"

"My mom began responding to my voice. We could see signs in her physical body that she was trying to wake up. This went on for a couple of weeks. She would sit still until she heard my voice. Then I would see little twitters. Little signs of hope that she knew I were there. There were even times when I swear I saw her smile. Her mouth didn't move, but I could feel her smiling underneath. I can't explain it. But you want to know when she shows most signs of life?"

"When?" I asked.

"When I read these." Megan reached in her leather briefcase-type bag. She began to pull out what appeared to be over a hundred letters. All written by me.

I was stunned. "How did you find those letters?" There were hundreds and hundreds of written letters from me. Some places were even highlighted.

"Why are parts of them highlighted with a marker?"

"These are only copies. Your original letters are back at my house. I used these as research."

"Research?"

"Yes, research to find you!"

"Was I transparent?"

"It took a while, but I was able to get a working email that you responded to."

"Only because I thought you were Christine!"

"I knew that would be the only way you would respond."

"I'm still confused. Why the letters? Why me? On this night? Why now?"

"You see, my mother used to respond to my voice. So I began to read to her daily. I would only see a twitch on a mild expression change on her face, but I knew she was listening."

"How did you know?"

"Because I started bringing in new material for her to read. She loved hearing my book about you. Then one day, I was reading to her and as clear as hearing a voice out loud, but I knew it wasn't because I was alone in a hospital room and my mom was obviously not in any condition to speak, I heard the words: *Find the real truth.'"

"Find the real truth!"

"I know it sounds weird and there were many days when I thought my grief had started to make me slowly lose my mind."

"So, what did you do?" I asked.

"I found the truth. It all started with me finding her letters."

I took a deep breath and looked outside the truck's side window. The night was still dark and the stars were the only lights in the sky. It was a beautiful night, and we were on the road to Aspen. We had about thirty minutes left.

"How did you find the letters?"

"In her mailbox in Washington, D.C., I knew something was up when her post office box was the biggest one they had. I swear, when I walked up to it with her keys in my hand, it looked like a high school gym locker. Then I remembered how happy she'd be for a few days after she came back from Washington, D.C. Joel, the locker was filled with your letters chronologically organized."

"How could she save them all in the post office box? I know from running a leukemia foundation that the post office only allows a month of mail to stack up in your box, at most."

"This was one of those private post office box places, the kind that exist inside of packaging and shipping stores. Perhaps she had a private arrangement with the manager not to mess with her mail, just to let it stack up and let her store it in there. Anyway, it was full of your letters."

I nodded.

"Joel, your letters just ended with no explanation. I didn't understand. If things ended well between you and my mother on the third night, why weren't there any more letters?"

"How does the third book end?" I asked, hesitant to explain. "How does the Third Sunrise satisfy the reader and make them want to read possibly a fourth?"

"It doesn't. I have a loyal following of readers for my series but The Third Sunrise book just ends with a cliffhanger."

"Real life isn't a romance novel," I said.

"Then why did you respond to the first email? You obviously hadn't spoken to my mother for thirteen years."

"Why did I respond?" I laughed. "Have you heard the first part of the story, honey? I don't have many years. All I knew was that Christine contacted me. When I got the first email from someone who I thought was your mother, it rejuvenated me. It made me feel alive again. I was young again, that first-kiss, first-love, only-love kind of young. Finally, it made me *feel' again."

"What did you do over the last thirteen years that you didn't talk to my mom?" Megan asked.

"I bought a ranch and moved here."

"Here?"

"Well, here being Delta, Colorado."

"Wait a minute! You moved to Delta, Colorado?"

"Yes."

"When? I asked you where you were living but you never said Delta, Colorado."

"No, I didn't. I did, however, say that I moved to a nice quiet place."

"Wow. All of this is amazing."

"So, when she said she wanted to meet back here, I was already living here. I have been here for the past ten years. I thought by now I might at least run into someone who ran into her, butanothing. For ten years, I knew nothing about her. To be honest, it was all I could do not to go insane because I longed for her so badly that I moved to her hometown and waited, every day, for her to show up. There was some small comfort from the town, which had once been her town. I was drawn to it like it was somehow magical, just because Delta, Colorado, was where we met. Deltarado Days was even more magical, kind of like Brigadoon."

"Wow," Megan said. "That's one of my favorite movies. Once every hundred years, this Scottish village appears. And Tommy falls for Fiona."

"You got it. Deltarado Days felt like it only came every hundred years to me, but I still had to try." I took a deep breath and paused for a second and then said, "Needless to say, not much had ever changed, not even after I moved to Delta. I loved her as much as ever. And Delta made me feel a little closer to her, even if she wasn't there."

"The Delta connection is just tremendous. I think she is going to respond to you, Joel."

"Why? It's almost too much pressure for me to handle. I don't want to be your last hope."

"You're not our last hope, Joel. You are and have always been our only hope."

After that, we sat in silence until we were about five minutes from the hospital. I slowed down to the speed limit of Aspen streets.

As we neared the hospital, Megan said, "Joel, before we go in there, I need to tell you something. This has been on my heart the entire time I have listened to your beautiful story about my mom. Thank you for being the man my mom remembers. She remembers you exactly how you are. You are a beautiful man. Thank you for loving my mom the way she deserved to be loved. My dad didn't know how. He was reliable, brave, and trustworthy, all of the Boy Scout stuff. But he was not interested in my mom's happiness at the level that she needed as a womana"she wanted to be understood, to be cherished, even to be liked as an individual. Trust me, if he would have known what to do, he might had been stubborn enough to have tried it. But you, Joel, you are the real deal. You love my mom in a way that is right out of a storybook. Her storybook. I love you so much for that."

"You love me?" I was surprised to hear those words from anyone, especially Megan.

"How could I not love the man who made my mom as happy as she was? She was always so happy after her Washington, D.C. trips, after she read the letters from you. She was so much fun to be with, and she absolutely glowed after her trips to read your lettersa"and now, having met you, I know why."

"Thank you, Megan, and I love you, too. It is so easy to love the child of the woman I love. Even still. The woman you have demonstrated yourself to be tonight is a heroic one."

Megan and I hugged for the first time at a stop light. Hugging her felt like the same as hugging a niece and I had plenty of those. Between us flowed a platonic protective energy. We paused, and then Megan said, "You know, I have started writing The Fourth Sunrise."

"But it never happened."

"I know. But it started to happen. The hospital is right up this way." Megan guided me into the hospital.

"Will they let us in to see her at this hour?"

"Don't worry. The security guard has a crush on me and he lets me visit her whenever I like. He isn't worried about me disturbing her sleep. She's in a coma."

"That's well and fine for you, but I doubt he has a crush on me," I said.

"He'll let you through. I'll tell him you're my angel."

Chapter Twenty-six.

I parked my truck right outside Aspen Memorial Hospital in the visitor parking lot.

Megan led the way and sure enough, the security guy let us through.

My heart was pounding as it always did moments before I antic.i.p.ated seeing Christine. This time, it would be different. She was comatose.

We made our way to the elevator and we went to the third floor.

When we got off the elevator, we made our way down a long hallway that seemed to last forever. Her room was at the end of the hallway to the east side of the hospital.

I held my breath as we walked in. I had no idea what she would look like. As I entered the room, I saw a woman lying on her back with IV's in her arm.

I stared at Christine and she looked as beautiful as she ever had. She looked as if she was lying in peace. My heart dropped after I got over the fact I was seeing her for just the fourth time in my life. This was serious, and I had no idea what Megan's plan was. I thought it was a farfetched dream that somehow my presence could wake her up. "Where is your brother in all this?" I asked.

"Let's just say, my search for you was something I figured was on my own, and I didn't want to give him any more false hope, just in case it all blew up in my face. We both already lost our dad. I just couldn't get his hopes up and..."

"I understand." I walked over and asked Megan if she minded if I opened the curtains. It was still reasonably dark, but it was nearing 5:30 in the morning and the sun would soon be up. "What should I do?" I asked Megan. I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. What I wanted to do was to lie next to Christine and just cradle her in my arms. Under the circ.u.mstances, that seemed inappropriate.

Megan walked over to me and said, "Just take her in and when you feel like it is time, speak from a place that you have shared with her." Megan glanced at Christine. "I think we got a response."

"How would we know?" I asked.

"Do you see how peaceful she is resting? She is calm." As I watched, Megan grabbed a chair and placed it next to the bed. She gently took out Christine's left hand and held it in hers.

"Mommy!" Megan said. "I'm here." She repeated that phrase three more times.

I concentrated on Christine's aged, but still very beautiful face. As I looked upon her waiting for a reaction, all of the love in my heart just oozed out of every pore of my body and spilled into the room with an energy of its own. She wasn't moving. Megan looked up and said, "She must be asleep. I'm going to speak a little louder." Again, Megan told her mother she was there while holding her hand.

Then I saw it. Christine's left eye twitched. "I saw it," I said excitedly. "Her eye twitched."

"She is now awake. Her eyes aren't open, but she is. I feel her, listening. She knows I'm here, but she doesn't know you are." Megan motioned for me to take her place, sitting next to Christine.

I held my breath a little longer than I desired because I made myself a bit lightheaded. I wanted the right words to come out of my mouth. I didn't know what to say so I took Megan's place, sitting to her left. Then I held Christine's hand. The second our hands touched, I felt the magic that was always between us. "h.e.l.lo, sweetheart," I said.