Vespertine – Part 3

Vespertine – Part 3

“We dance around a fire that kicks away the dark. We are vespertine flowers, night bloomers. Loneliness is nothing but an illusion.”

Ròs House, Scotland – The following day

Lisa woke up slowly. Her eyelids were heavy and she felt as if a truck had run over her.

She grinned to herself. That was what would always happen when she and Michael had one of their special nights and God, was she glad they had taken some time off from everything and everyone. Just to say hello to each other appropriately.

Stretching out her legs, she realized that she had turned into a little ball on the plush couch of the living room, at their mansion. Oh, right, she vaguely remembered lying down for a moment or two at some point during the afternoon, and then everything had become blurred. Just imagining Michael’s voice made her grin bigger.

What would he say to her, if he could see her now? Of course, Lisa knew.

“Wake up, sleepyhead. You dozed off… And you’re so beautiful when you sleep.”

She didn’t think she was a sleepyhead at all, and he was probably delusional, but hey, who was she to shit on his parade?

After making love again and again in their suite, at Stonehaven, they had just listened to the storm taking over the rest of the night. At one point, Michael had even gotten up and had opened the French doors, just to have a perfect view on the rain hitting the balcony, covering every surface with what looked like stardust. The view on the sea, on its rumbling, foamy waves, was even more spectacular.

Lisa had watched him walk across the room, completely naked, in perfect shape and strong-looking, and had sighed contentedly. She was sated, happy. And in love. With everything that he was, had been, and would become.

“You know… You should do this more often…” Hit by a sudden gust of cold wind, she had pulled the sheet up against her naked torso.

“What, opening the windows during a rainstorm?” Michael had giggled. “You’re nuts, girl.”

“No, parading naked in front of me… ’cause I really like it.”

Once again he had chuckled to himself.

“…You’re nuts.”

“Come back here… I miss you. I don’t like the bed without you.”

Her voice had become softer and he had turned to look at her. His eyes were tender. Quietly, he had walked back to the bed, lying down and coming to rest by her side. Holding her in his arms, kissing her, making her body tingle and light up with every touch of his hands.

“Yeah… I don’t like it either.”

They had just stayed there, listening to the rain. There wasn’t much that needed to be said and this was so unlike the silence they would often share in the past. If one too many times they had not spoken up – out of fear, concern, or mistrust – now their silence was no longer reticence. It had turned into peaceful stillness. All that remained unsaid on a verbal level was communicated in a much more profound manner.

Her head coming to rest over Michael’s chest, Lisa had traced his pectorals, then the strong lines of his stomach and had stopped there, her palm resting flat against his warm skin. Earlier that night, she had recognized all the signs while he was making love to her. His quest for relief, reassurance, comfort. His unbridled passion, the reaffirmation of who he was to himself and who she was to him. He had needed so much to once again find himself in this new life he had chosen for the remaining part of his existence.

And it was imperative that he did.

The previous year had been hell for Michael. Lisa knew. She remembered every single day of slander, every lie, every gratuitous attack, every gleeful abomination and vicious suppression of the truth. She had smelled the sickening stench of greed even from Scotland and for the first time since she had met Michael again, she had feared that he would crumble. The memories of what had happened in 1993 first and in 2005 then shrouding her soul, squeezing it with their dark tentacles. Reminding her that this semi-god she loved to pieces was a human being to her and a brand, a golden goose, a profitable target to pretty much the rest of the world.

He had been so lost and so hurt back then, to the point that even their marriage and his relationship with his youngest son had taken a hit. At least for a while. The new version of the man Lisa had so miraculously found again after seven years of complete anguish had started to blend with the person Michael had once been. The mask of this composed, calm, mature guy had begun to crack because of the intense and unexpected emotional pain he had been forced to endure – once again. And she had witnessed the reappearance of the hunted, hounded superstar that had been cornered in the most difficult position ever. That had been forced to be dead to the world.

The never-ending circle of pain. Like a spoiled brat always coming back for more.

Lisa had never told Michael how afraid she had been, the previous year. Terrified of losing him again, or at the very least to see him disappear in his own head, where she knew she could not reach him. Where she could not save him. It had happened in the past, after all. It could happen again. And she needed so much to be able to save him. Just as much as she needed him to save her, every single day.

But then something else that had already happened more than once had occurred. The phoenix had risen again from the ashes, and the flames of its wings had burned everything to the ground. Most of the hate had been replaced by love, most of the lies had dissolved into the unstoppable force of the truth, most of the trauma had, once again, gone back to sleep. Oh, she knew it would never really go away. It would never really die or heal. It was simply too much suffering for one man to endure. But having it be quiet, tamed, was enough now. Lisa and Michael no longer lived or reasoned in absolutes. They had discovered that, sometimes, compromises could be a fantastic solution not only to survive but to live again.

Which was precisely what they had done, until this unexpected pandemic and all that came with it had struck. While Michael was away from home, of all things. The peace that he and Lisa had so laboriously retrieved had been put to the test once again, their togetherness had been threatened, and ancient fears had reemerged. It all felt inevitable and eventual, and cyclical too. It really looked as if their fate was to face challenges all the time and Lisa was tired. She wanted that peace back, permanently. It was like a delicious dessert that she had only vaguely tasted amid so many unsatisfying, mediocre dishes. She was beyond exhausted.

That was why booking that suite at the resort, in Stonehaven, had been so important. Because one night, one hour, one minute could change everything just as much as they could tilt the entire universe back on its axis.

After a while, Lisa had lifted her head from the safe shelter of Michael’s chest and had touched his face, finding his eyes. She had kissed him again. She had loved the touch of his strong hands on her naked skin. The way he heated her up just by skimming his fingers over the surface of her body. Sitting up next to her, he had gently and carefully removed her heels, stockings and garter belt. He had unclasped her choker, rendering her completely naked just like he was. She had pulled him close, the urge of being one with him once again incoercible.

He had deciphered the silent code of her kisses just right and had rolled over, coming to rest on top of her body just as the wind began to furiously slap the curtains, invading the room. It didn’t matter if the temperature had dropped all of sudden – their warmth was the only blanket they needed to protect themselves.

Michael’s kisses had left a blazing trail down her body and once again she had parted her legs for him, pushing his head down even though she already knew what he was about to do. Glancing down at him, seeing him close his eyes as he tasted her, hearing those little sexy sighs and sounds she had always lived for as he made love to her that way – it all had acted like a fuse to her dynamite. She had dissolved into him, her fingers in his hair, on his shoulder as she held him against her flesh, she had become pure particles in the infinity of the atmosphere.

Then Michael had climbed up her body again, revering every inch of it with his hands, lips, and skin, and they had rolled over one more time. She had come to sit astride him and had let the sheet fall off her body. Sitting up, she had taken him in. Taken him home, observing his chest rise and fall as she began to move on top of him. Intertwining her fingers with his, drowning in his eyes as she absorbed all the details of his beautiful face. It had changed, yes, but not so much. Lisa had realized that, if anyone had paid attention, they would have seen him for who he really was – beyond that beard and beyond that shortish hair, gray on his temples. He was still who he had always been and yet he had become another man.

Focusing on him and him alone, she had reciprocated his favor. She had transported him into the blinding pleasure that always accompanied their connection. She had watched him lose control. She had made him sweat again and had rejuvenated him – becoming younger in the process. She had heard his whispered words, telling her how in love with her he was, how happy she made him. It was just the same for her.

At that very moment, Lisa had known that she would always love him – no matter what.

Now, as she sat up on the couch and glanced at her watch, she noticed that she hadn’t just dozed off for a few minutes. She had slept for over two hours and the light outside the windows testified of the impending dusk. She recognized that hue. It was the vesper that had terrified her so much in the past couple of months, while she tried to convince herself that no way in the world she would wake up the next day knowing that Michael wouldn’t be back. That he wouldn’t come back to her – to them all – ever again.

Thankfully, she had been wrong. Those vespertine hours were no longer the beginning of any lonely night: they were the prelude of another day. A weird peace pervaded her and the dusty purple light of the late evening hours seemed to shine brighter, getting rid of those neutral undertones that made it look as if it was no color at all and yet every hue in the color palette.

Lisa felt that she and Michael had finally reached their destination – overcoming every bump on the long road they had faced together. At times miles apart, at times holding each other’s hand, but always, always connected somehow.

They had left Stonehaven in the morning and they had arrived home earlier that day, around noon. The moment they had entered Ròs House, they had immediately smelled the mouth-watering lunch that Miss Emma had prepared for them. They had found the older lady in the kitchen, in front of the stove. She had been cooking a delicious Pastelón, a Caribbean casserole that looked a lot like lasagna and that tasted sweet, salty and cheesy at the same time. The perfect comfort food. Home served on a plate.

When she had seen Michael, Emma had smiled and had put the spoon down, opening her arms. They had hugged and he had kissed her cheek.

“Welcome back, sir.”

Michael had pulled back, still holding onto her hands.

“I am so happy to see you. And thank you for….” He had shrugged, glancing around. “…Well, everything.”

“My pleasure. And before you ask: lunch will be ready in twenty minutes and the little one is out in the park with Marcus. Near the jasmines.”

This was so very fitting, given that Michael never failed to remind Lisa that the word “jasmine” meant “God’s gift.” After all, that was what Kellan was to his parents: a miracle, a reward, a blessing. And, ultimately, their legacy incarnated.

The toddler had been ecstatic to see his dad after so long. At first understandably shy, he had run over to Lisa and had hidden his face in her skirt. She had crouched down, holding him in her arms and murmuring lovingly in his ear. Reassuring him that everything was just fine, that mom and dad were back and loved him to the moon and back. Michael had just stayed there, his face calm, his eyes radiant.

It had taken Kellan a solid minute of suspension, and then he had flown into his father’s arms, laughing. Happiness manifested. Pure perfection. Lisa had just remained in her crouched position, watching them talk and laugh together as Michael picked up his son, combed his curly hair with his fingers, and then kissed his head. She had seen Michael’s eyes shine, but maybe she had been the one getting emotional. She hadn’t cared one bit.

Smiling to herself, she now noticed that Emma and Marcus had left, but not before getting dinner ready and the patio perfectly fixed with a brand new flowerbed. Peace lilies. Once again, so very fitting.

Lisa went upstairs slowly, convinced that she would find Michael and Kellan in the master bedroom – likely watching cartoons on the big flat-screen TV. She was wrong. Nobody was there and the bed looked as if it hadn’t been touched at all.

Frowning, she went back downstairs to her recording studio, remembering that the toddler loved to spend time with his parents in those rooms. Kellan would just stay there, listening to music or playing with his musical mat as he sat down on the plush wall-to-wall carpeting.

Opening the door to the studio, she recognized the unmistakable scent of her husband and even though Michael and Kel weren’t there, she knew they had been not long ago. She shook her head when she noticed the beeswax crayons on the carpet. It didn’t matter how many times she told Michael that it was just not the case to have Kellan play with those things in that room. Her husband would just never listen. Which was fine. Walking over to the mixing board, she also saw the blinking light signaling a new recording. Once again, Lisa’s brow furrowed. What was that?

Of course, she hit play. She wanted to know what she had missed.

Within seconds, the room was invaded by sounds she had never heard before, and yet she recognized them instantly. As a soft smile stole on her lips, she closed her eyes and visualized the scene as if she was observing it from a privileged point of view. After all, the music playing was telling her everything she needed to know.

It was just a simple piano track. She heard the melody of an old Scottish lullaby, something that Michael had been getting familiar with before he left for Amsterdam. In the recording, Michael was humming along. Kellan was laughing and uttering articulate sounds in the background, singing along with his father as he made up a language that was all his, and that included words that didn’t exist and some actual ones. Mama. Dadee. Kel. Song. ‘Usic. Play. Beddy-bye. Go night-night.

“Very good…” Michael said at one point in his low voice. “What did you say, Kel?”

“Go night-night?”

“Of course.”

Michael resumed playing and the images in Lisa’s mind became tidy, spotless almost. Those two sitting on the large piano stool, side by side. Michael’s hands on the keyboard, Kellan slowly dozing off as he leaned against his father. She heard the music become softer and slower, almost whispered. Then silence, and Michael’s voice again. Just a murmur.

“Let’s go to your room, little one. You’re tired.”

“Dadee?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be there when you wake up.”

Michael’s muffled steps as he approached the mixing board, then static. Silence again.

Lisa swallowed and sat down for a minute. She now knew where her husband and son were.

She found them five minutes later – when she was finally able to get a grip on the storm of emotions she felt. Michael and Kellan were in the baby’s room, lying down on the floor. Well, yeah… On the plush carpet again. The baby was asleep, lying on his side, holding onto his favorite toy – an elephant with super-sized ears and a tiny trunk. Michael’s eyes were closed and he was snoring lightly. Just lying there on his back, one arm stretched out and his hand on Kellan’s head while the other rested on his stomach made her smile and melt inside. His overall appearance was crumpled, his shirt was half out of his pants, and he looked like a man who was in dire need of several hours of sleep. Yes, Lisa had noticed that Michael had stayed awake the previous night. He hadn’t slept for a minute.

And now he was resting. Finally. He felt comfortable and safe enough to let go, relax, and lower whatever defense he had kept in place for so long.

Quietly, she removed her shoes and lay down with them, cradling the side of her face in the palm of her hand, just looking at them, watching over them as they slept. The man she loved and her baby boy. Their baby boy.

This was the reality she had always wanted. If other worlds existed, she didn’t want to know. They didn’t matter.

The End.