Page 84 of Night Songs

“Just a minute!”

Hess and I ran out to the terrace. I jumped on to the branch and eased from limb to limb, going a bit more slowly this time, knowing it would make Hess less nervous. When I got to the bottom, I watched as she wobbled in heels on the top limb with her wedding dress bunched around her legs. As she moved toward the trunk, the tulle snagged on a branch and tore in half. She cursed and tied the rest into a knot between her legs, kicked off the heels, and swung the rest of the way down like an ape.

As she touched down below the tree, someone yelled from the drivewaythat they’d spotted Hess. We took off in our bare feet across the lawn and made it to the woods with a few of the staff chasing us.

But they were no match for a country girl and Hess’s long goddess legs. We moved swiftly through the trees, floating on a joy that I could barely contain. When we reached my car, Hess got in on the driver’s side out of habit, but I pushed her over and took the wheel. I floored it, quickly putting distance between us and the property, and she shrieked as she tore off the rest of the tulle and threw it out the window.

Moments later, I skidded into my driveway, and we ran from the car to the house. Before the door had even closed behind us, I jumped into Hess’s arms and wrapped my legs around her. She pushed me against the wall and we kissed ferociously, painfully, trying to get too close too fast, jamming years of desire into the space of a moment.

Hess pulled her head from mine, and we caught our breaths. I put my mouth gently on hers, savoring it this time, the feeling of her washing over me with each small movement.

I guided her toward the bedroom at the back of the house with my legs still wrapped around her waist. She laid me down on the bed, and I was eighteen again, finding real love for the first time in motel rooms sweltering with summer heat. I flipped over on top of her, and I was twenty-one again, filled with the confidence of someone who thinks love will never leave them. I bent down and kissed her, and I was twenty-seven, scarred by heartbreak and ever closer to death, someone who vowed never to leave this woman as long as I walked the earth.

28rhea

2009

When I turned thirty-two, Hess threw me a birthday party in Nashville.

Lanterns hung from the hulking trees in her backyard and fairy lights twinkled from the bushes like fireflies. I could see the real thing blinking in the darkness beyond the light and roar of the party, and I had that feeling again, that this was a place of more magic and meaning than others, Hess’s place of peace. I saw her at the far end of the yard talking to one of Martha’s old protégés, and we briefly met eyes.

Micah joined me at the deck railing and gently pulled my hair back to place a soft kiss on my neck. Feist’s “I Feel It All” came on the outdoor speakers, and it was like Martha was there for a moment, selecting the perfect song. We touched our heads together, and I let myself disappear for a moment.

“How are you holding up?” he whispered in my ear.

Every year we’d been married, he’d dutifully abstained from celebrating my birthday—he would let me lie in bed all day and watch TV alone as I waited for the dread to recede, delivering my favorite foods on trays like offerings and excusing himself quietly from the room.

But this year something felt different, and I’d finally caved to Hess andthe girls’ desire to celebrate. The dread was still there, but I could treat it as an unwelcome house guest who would be leaving in the morning.

“I’m doing all right.”

Phoebe sashayed through the crowd toward us, balancing a plate of mini cheeseburgers and three cups of punch. “Food and drink for the birthday queen,” she said, bowing. I took a cup from her and stuffed one of the burgers into my mouth. “Your mama’s favorite,” she purred.

Tima came up behind us and knocked her cup against mine. “Happy birthday, baby. The thirties are the best decade.” She paused. “That is, until you hit the forties.” She winked.

“What about the fifties?”

She flicked a wrist in the air. “Divine.”

After I scarfed a few more of the dollhouse cheeseburgers, Phoebe whirled toward the crowd. “C’mon, y’all. It’s time for presents.”

She led me over to a chair tied with balloons in the shape of a “3” and “2” and everyone clustered around me like I was a bratty five-year-old. Hess watched from across the circle with amusement playing over her face; she knew how much I hated to be the center of attention.

After opening a few gifts, Micah came toward me with a box. I could tell by the cautious way he walked that there was glass inside.

I carefully took it from him and balanced it on my lap, holding my breath. Even now, after years of being surrounded by his glass creations and opening countless fragile gifts, I was still afraid I would shatter it.

I opened the lid and pushed aside the tissue paper to reveal a dark-purple shape attached to a length of fishing line. I pulled it out, suspending it in the air so that everyone could see. The glass sparkled mysteriously in the light, the color deep and impenetrable.

It took me a moment, but when it came together in my mind, my stomach turned.

It was a tree branch extended horizontally through the air, like the birthmark on my chest.

My stomach churned more violently, and I winced, nearly dropping the sculpture. Micah lurched forward and took it from my hand, and I doubled over. Hess quickly led me to the trash can where I vomited pink chunks in front of the party guests.

Inside the house, I lay down in the bedroom. Micah was sent to the store for Gatorade and medicine while Phoebe played doctor, with Hess and Tima looking on.

“What are your symptoms?”