forever entangled; to my history, inextricably bound.
― Sarah Ockler
Forever
Over the next few days, I’d use every occasion to stop and chat with Emily. She had an ethereal quality about her that drew me and I found her enchanting and irresistible.
Mother’s will stipulated I couldn’t leave the property, so I went on line and purchased a row boat and phoned the market and had them make me up a picnic basket lunch.
I had gotten to know Emily’s routines, so one lovely golden afternoon I waited until she took her break and then whisked her away with me, down the long winding path to the pond.
“Where are you taking me?” she giggled. She left me breathless and I’d have gladly traded a thousand days for the surprised look on her face when I showed her the boat tied up in the shallows.
“I have no idea how to row, but if you’re willing to risk life and limb we can sail off to Key Largo.”
“Key Largo, huh?” Her eyes danced. “But there’s no outlet from the pond to Lake Ontario.”
“Well, it’ll just have to be a tour of the pond with a picnic later on the side of the hill.”
I pulled back a picnic blanket covering the wicker basket. “There’s a chilled bottle of Dom Perignon as well—if you’ve nothing against bubbly.”
“I’m not adverse to spirits,” she smiled.
We got in the boat and I used an oar to push off from the bank.
Within minutes we were in the middle of the water with a swirling sky of cumulus above, reflected in the glassy surface of the pond below.
She reached out and touched my arm. “Oh look, Jay! How lovely the house looks from here.”
It was a moment so intimate and touching—the tender way she whispered the diminutive of my name.
I held onto her arm, pulled her close and pressed my mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and full and I never wanted the kiss to end.
“Forgive me,” I said, “you’re just so lovely.”
“There’s nothing to forgive, Jay. I think this was meant to be.”
After a while we rowed back to shore and spread out the blanket on one of the plateaus on the path leading down the hill. It was a glorious June afternoon with a slight breeze—just enough to stir the trees and dapple her face with shadowy leaves.
“It’s so beautiful here," I confessed, "I don’t know why I never noticed it before."
“You were young and reckless—you didn’t notice me either.”
I put down the champagne flute. “You were here, back then, before I left?”
“I was,” she whispered.
“I can’t believe I could be so blind. Did we ever speak?”
“No—you were unreachable then—like a dark smouldering fire beneath ashes. You were very fierce—you frightened me.”
“I’m sorry. I was headstrong and unruly.”
“Your mother and I would sit on the back verandah in the cool of those summer afternoons and she’d confide in me. She loved you, Jay, but couldn’t seem to find a way inside you.”
My heart broke then—all the tears I didn’t shed, or wouldn’t allow, I shed now. I
felt Emily’s arms around me—and Mother’s as well, in the softness of a woman’s heart I had shut out.
The shadows were deepening and the pond was dark when we went back up the path to the house. I was shivering, so Emily built a fire, and we sat there staring through the windows at the setting sun lighting the western sky like a forest fire.
We were mesmerized by flames of a more glorious fire, as the sun lit up the room with its dying rays.
Emily was talking in drowsy tones as we sat dreaming by the fire.
“One of my ancestors built this house you know—after he designed and built the Presbyterian Church just up the road. Some of the stained glass windows at the rear of the house are reclaimed church windows your mother installed as a tribute to my family’s ecclesiastical work.”
“I didn’t know that. Then your family has been involved over the years in the care and maintenance of the property?”
She nodded. “We’re tied—like your mother to this house.”
“That’s incredible! I’m only sad I didn’t know you before.”
She caressed my cheek. “Well, you know me now, and I doubt we’ll ever part.”
“I hope we never do part, Emily. And by the way, I’ve made up my mind—I want to stay on here at The Ashes and continue to restore the house. I hope you’ll stay too and care for the gardens and the black oak savannah.”
“Of course, Jay—I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
“You know it’s only been a short while, but I feel I’ve known you forever. I can’t believe how deeply I’ve fallen in love with you. I want to marry you, Em, and have a family with you, here in this house.”
Her face fell and tears began to trill down her cheeks.
I hugged her and tried to console her.
“Don’t be sad, Em—it’s a happy thought.”
“It is, Love, but you don’t understand.”
I looked at her blankly. “Understand what?”
“I can never leave this house.”
“And why not, Love? If you’re worried about my forcing you to go on a honeymoon or trips to far off lands—I won’t. I’m a recluse myself. I’d be happy to spend eternity with you behind these walls.”
She grasped my wrist tightly, imploring me with her eyes. “But that’s just it—don’t you see, Jay? I died a century ago and the Emily you know is a spirit bound to this place.”
“Tha-that’s not possible,” I sputtered. You’re a flesh and blood woman as real as any other.”
“I am,” she smiled bleakly, “as long as I remain on these grounds. Is that the future you want, Jay—to be bound with me to The Ashes with no children for your posterity?”
A groan arose from somewhere deep within me. “Can’t you see, Em—I’m hopelessly in love with you. Nothing else matters to me.”
As Mother said, I always end up doing the right thing in the end.
And since love extinguishes all other choices, Em is now my life and my love forever.
As for Mother, I’ve decided to scatter her ashes as she intended. In some way she’ll be a part of the black oaks and our lives too.
Em tells me Mother may choose the grounds as her haunt, or perhaps continue on to bliss in a world beyond—either way, I wish her well and know somehow we’ve been reconciled.
As for me, my hard shell has been softened and I’ve been given space to grow like the oaks.
It’s a beautiful thing this hope that rises from the burnt-over earth—it’s beauty for ashes, and joy continuous.