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Excerpt From Beneath the Velvet Blue Moon |
BENEATH THE VELVET BLUE MOON One beautiful summer's night in early August, Michael and I walked along the lake holding hands. We stopped by the rail where my father and I had made our wishes when I was a child. A gentle breeze ruffled his hair as he smiled down at me. I smiled back at him. He drew me close and covered my mouth with his. Then he turned to look at the full moon. "Look, Nadine, it's a Blue Moon." "My father told me that anything you wished for under a Blue Moon always came true," I said. "Always?" he asked with the mischievous little smile I found adorable. "That's what he said." "Then let's make wishes." His eyes were like emeralds, twinkling in the moonlight. We closed our eyes and made wishes. I wished to be with Michael forever. Since you couldn't tell anyone your wish or it wouldn't come true, I didn't know what he'd wished for, but by the look on his face I had a pretty good idea. "Promise, Nadine…promise me on that Blue Moon that you'll meet me here next year." "I promise," I said. Then, under that magnificent moon, we sealed our pledge to meet with a kiss. If I could have put that moment into a bottle and saved it forever, I would have. I had been granted my childhood wish. My handsome prince stood there before me. And no matter what, I knew with all my heart I would always love Michael. We swapped telephone numbers. I'd keyed his into my cell phone. We'd stay in touch while we both went back to school. And perhaps, if time permitted, get together during the holidays. That night of promise turned out to be the last night we'd spend together. The next morning, my grandmother called my mother with terrible news. My grandfather had been rushed to the hospital. He'd had a heart attack. I'd hastily said goodbye to Michael. The tears in my eyes were for Michael, but my concern was for my grandfather. We drove directly to the airport and booked a flight to Arizona. From the airport, we went straight to the hospital. My grandfather was already in the operating room when we got there. We found my grandmother sitting in the waiting room, her eyes red and swollen from crying. My mother tried to comfort her, but ended up adding her own tears to the mix. It took another two hours before the doctor came to speak with us. "Mrs. Carlson, if he gets through the night, he's going to be all right." A collective sigh of relief could be heard after he gave us this prognosis. He then proceeded to explain what he'd done in the operating room. My grandfather was a feisty old man. Even though Grandpa wasn't out of the woods just yet, we were given hope. I knew that if anyone was going to pull through a quadruple bypass it would be him. We were allowed to peek in on him before we all went to my grandparent's place to spend the night. The following morning we returned to the hospital to see him. He was fully awake and though his voice was dry and gravelly, he managed to bark orders to the nurses. Though his skin still bore a gray cast, we knew he was on the mend. And that's what counted. My parents and I remained in Arizona with my grandmother until my grandfather was able to go home. It wasn't long before he was his usual cantankerous self. He was very political and extremely opinionated. He was forever writing scorching letters to the local newspapers. I guess, no one ever told him it could be dangerous to discuss politics. To tell the truth, when my grandmother had told my mother that Grandpa was in the hospital, I actually thought that somebody had shot him. We returned to New York in time for the beginning of the new semester. That's about the time I realized I couldn't find my cell phone. For me it was a category five disaster. It contained every important telephone number-including Michael's. My father found me in my room ransacking all my bags, dumping everything out, as I frantically searched for my phone. "What's going on, Nadine? This place looks like it was hit by a bomb," he said. I must've had a panic-stricken expression on my face when I looked up because his demeanor changed quickly to one of concern. "What's wrong, honey?" The pent up tears began to stream down my cheeks. "I think I lost my cell phone." "Don't worry. I'll call the carrier and discontinue your service. We'll get you another phone." "You don't understand…" I whined as more tears welled in my eyes. "Honey, we'll replace it. Losing your cell phone should be the worst thing that ever happens to you." "It is." "You're right, I don't understand," he said running his fingers through his hair. "It was my phone book. Michael's number was in it. And now it's gone…" As if a curtain of uncertainty had just lifted from his eyes, my father took me in his arms and held me as I sobbed on his shoulder. I could tell we were both on the same page now. "Sweetheart, he'll find a way to get in touch with you." My father contacted the carrier and let them know I'd lost my phone. I purchased another a few days later. I thought about what my father said. If Michael was going to find a way to contact me, he'd have to be very creative. I now had a new cell phone number and hadn't given him my home number, which is unlisted. My parents didn't want a ton of calls from students. I tried to get in touch with Michael, but hit a dead end. I was beside myself. How do you meet the man of your dreams only to lose him? The last resort would have to be the summer. Would Michael still keep his promise and come? I never got the chance to find out. |