It seems that many of you believe Makenna and Serena are somehow related to Tanya, so I guess that must be how I unconsciously wrote it. Meeting Serena in this chapter might raise more questions than it answers, however.
Thanks as always to my sis, Ipsita xxx
I wake up discouraged when there's no news of Serena, and we both need a distraction, so we hit the toboggan run. It's a whole kilometer down to the village, impossible to complete without a few spills along the way, and I cannot remember ever laughing so hard from just being a dope. Masen is such a joy when he lets himself be a kid.
We're having lunch, laughing over the fun we've had, when Makenna calls to say Serena would like to come and thank us. She didn't have to go to hospital because the paramedics ruled out concussion and hypothermia, but they recommended an easy day or two, and since they are all going home tomorrow, the others have gone to the husky experience without them.
I'm so relieved to hear she's okay that I'm suddenly teary, saying we'd love to see them. Masen and I have avoided talking about what happened while we waited for an outcome, and now I feel amazing—enjoying every mouthful of food—ordering a cake to be delivered to our room. Even if they don't stay long, I want something nice to offer them.
When I hear the knock, I rush to the door, and seeing Serena in her red parka gives me a sudden urge to hug her, although I'm wary of the bandage on her forehead and unsure of her injuries. She goes immediately to my roses, and I notice they are the same rich color as her jacket.
They settle on our couch, and Serena pulls two gifts from Makenna's bag. "Thank you," she says, handing one to each of us.
My first reaction is to say she didn't need to bring a gift, but I would have brought something if I was her, so I rip the paper and smile when I discover she has given us something useful for our stay here.
"They are not real fur," she states as if she understands the need to clarify.
"What do you think?" Masen asks, pulling his hat on and grinning. Serena and Makenna smile at each other, clearly amused. As usual, he's so totally cute, I want to kiss him.
"This is for you, Bella." Serena hands me another gift, but her expression has turned serious, as if she's unsure I'll like this one. There is nothing more for Masen, which makes it feel strange.
I'm careful removing the paper, and when I open the lid of the box, I'm amazed by what's inside. It's a Christmas decoration, a standing silver reindeer with a golden snowflake attached to a ribbon tied around its neck. Instead of gnarly antlers, this one has a plume of long, delicately spun curls. I look at Masen, and we both know it's no coincidence.
"Bwellya nushna nova tuturiovka." It rolls off her tongue, demanding a translation.
"Do you know what it means?" Makenna asks, but I can only shake my head. I don't know what any of this means, and her shoulders drop, as if she was expecting me to enlighten her.
"Serena was three when she first said those words, and we didn't teach her because we don't speak Russian. We didn't even know she was speaking Russian until we went on vacation to Croatia."
She pauses and stares at me as if I have something to contribute, but I don't.
"From an early age, we knew Serena was gifted at drawing. While other children were scribbling with crayons, her pictures had detail. We didn't understand when she started drawing ladybugs, because we didn't believe she'd been exposed to them. She had never been to daycare, and none of our family had a book or movie that contained them. She was creating her own version, replacing the spots with a criss-cross of lines segmenting their little bodies, but we encouraged her imagination and didn't try to correct her. As her fine motor skills developed, she refined the shape into what looked like an igloo. I showed her a picture, and she shook her head in frustration, too young to explain why hers was different."
"I was drawing windows," Serena explains.
"She sketched many other objects that were true to life, like boats, nets, octopus, fish, and other things we see daily on the island where we live, and she has always been a happy, normal child, so we just enjoyed her talent. Then, on her eighth birthday, her grandmother gave her a set of charcoal pencils, and she produced the most incredible drawing of a reindeer. We do have deer in the northern parts of Greece, but Caius and I thought that all deer were reindeer. This was a real reindeer."
"They are different," I agree, the memory fresh after seeing them yesterday. "In Alaska, we call them Caribou. They have chunkier snouts and enormous antlers. They're kind of gangly looking with extra long legs."
"Yes, they are unique, and that was how we found out, so it was another mystery. One day, Caius entered igloos and reindeer into a Google search and found the world of spending Christmas at the North Pole. There were many different ways to stay in a glass igloo, but when we showed her the Keskiyön Aurinko Village, she begged us to come and see them, repeating those same Russian words. Caius' sister and her family were able to finally join us this Christmas, and we're Greek Orthodox, so we celebrate on January 7th. Yesterday was our Christmas Day."
"What do the words mean?" I ask, dying to hear the answer.
Makenna answers, "Bella needs a new tattoo."
Masen gasps as his eyes capture mine. He's waiting for me to respond, but my hand has leapt to cover my mouth.
Makenna continues. "When she saw the reindeer in Helsinki, she had to buy it for Bella. Does it mean anything?"
I have to be careful with my answer, but there is something satisfying about this. I always thought I was the weirdo, drawn into the edges of the spirit world, but I'm not in the same league as this girl who doesn't seem to understand any more than I do.
I'm not wearing my new bracelet, so I only need to push my sleeve up to answer her question. My tattoo may be faded, but Serena is captivated.
She holds my wrist, and I cover her hand with mine. As we lock eyes, I sense a powerful connection that both answers and poses more questions. It seems to validate the theories I've heard about consciousness surviving physical death.
"I will draw the new tattoo?" she asks, and I immediately get her a pen and a sheet of hotel paper. She sketches four stars in a slightly skewed cross, adding another smaller one at four o'clock. It's vaguely familiar, but I'm disappointed it's not something that jumps out at me, although I'm prepared to accept it might at some point in the future.
"I know what that is." We all turn to Masen. "It's the Southern Cross."
Of course it is. The Southern Cross takes up half of the Australian flag, a constellation visible in the southern hemisphere mainly from Australia and New Zealand. I would bet money a nine-year-old Greek girl has never heard of it.
"Serena, it means something very special to me."
"What is it?" she asks, eager for answers.
Like me, Serena has lived with this for years, and while she seems very grown-up for nine, I doubt she could comprehend the deeper mystery. I feel like Makenna will have to approve Serena's access to the bigger story, and we have years for that.
"Masen is Australian, and the Southern Cross is something seen in the night sky only in his part of the world. He just asked me to marry him, and I believe it's a blessing for me to embrace our future together. I've always wanted another tattoo, and this one is perfect."
"I might get one myself," Masen adds, standing up and bringing the rest of us back down to earth. "Now, who wants a piece of cake?"
-0-
Us three girls are all crying when they leave. Meeting them has been a revelation, and I know I will stay in touch because we have a bond that can never be broken. This must be what it's like meeting family members you never knew existed, and Serena is so special that I want to see what she becomes, whether her talents lean toward the artistic or supernatural. I can't help thinking that it was part of Tanya's intention to give me a friend I would contact for no other reason than to just see how she is doing. When I eventually tell her I've been on a path to meeting her since I was her age, the twenty-year gap will be nothing because we'll understand each other.
I also believe Tanya brought Masen right into the center of whatever this is. No matter what he says, he is the one responsible for saving Serena's life.
-0-
On our last night in Lapland, I'm relaxed and ready for the next chapter of my life. The last two days have been incredible. We've had constant clear skies, a dramatic full moon, and fantastic auroras. Hollering like idiots, we launched ourselves into piles of snow between trips to our sauna. The noisiest team of Siberian huskies in Lapland pulled us through the snow, and Masen finally got to experience the silence of the arctic when we parked our snowmobiles, spellbound by the Linnunrata in the sky.
Both trips left from the Wilderness Center, our hotel's base camp for activities, and it hasn't gone unnoticed that it was just that one time when our visit to the reindeer farm started and ended at the Keskiyön Resort.
We spoke to Rose this morning, who offered two available venues, and boy did she deliver. The Little Vineyard was forty minutes north of Melbourne, and it promised a lovely, relaxed wedding, along with the rolling hills I'd asked for. I was ready to book it until I saw Elwood Bathers and knew she'd struck gold.
When I requested big windows and glimpses of water, I never expected a tiny promenade would be the only thing between us and the sand. Every photo showed views of the bay. Masen had eaten there before and enjoyed it. A college friend of Rose's had held a big thirtieth birthday lunch there. It wasn't far from Sue and Harry's place. We'd lucked out with a cancellation. It was really too perfect to pass up.
"What's the damage?" Masen asked.
"Depends on which menu you choose," she replied. "The mains are basically the same, but there are extras you may or may not want. You have plenty of time to decide, though."
"How much," he demanded.
"Your mother wants to cover it, Masen."
The groan told me he already knew objection was futile.
"You know she can afford it, so let her. You just put a few grand on the bar."
Once he relented, the feeling of excitement stayed with us all day. We skied and tobogganed and stuffed ourselves on pizza in the village.
Makenna called to wish us a safe trip home and to tell us Serena had not stopped asking questions about what happened. I've written the story of what brought me to Lapland, amazed that Serena has become a new chapter.
"Have you finished it?" Masen comes into the bedroom, drying his hair with a towel.
I close the laptop and smile at him. "Yeah, I've just sent it. Makenna's going to talk it through with Caius and decide how much to tell her."
"I think that's wise."
It's weird how clear my head feels and how quickly I've been able to construct the story. I feel calm and ready for anything, now.
"Can I talk to you about something?"
"Absolutely," he replies, lying down beside me. He smells fantastic, and I try not to dwell on the fact that he's naked under the bathrobe.
"The idea for this documentary came from the story of your grandmother. It has been influencing me the whole time I've been looking for ways to make the science more interesting, and I want to include it, somehow. I wasn't sure how to ask your permission until you warned me against using the names of those who have died. Angela says we should find a storyteller in every community. They might be an elder, or a family member who tells the stories."
"If we're lucky and they'll share," he agrees.
"So, out of respect, we won't mention specific people, only the journeys they took and interesting things that happened. Masen, your family's story encompasses the stolen generations, and an inheritance that enabled a woman to give back to her people."
"I never told you Mom used some of the money to build Cullen House. It's a safe place for women who've been assaulted or fear for their lives. I love the irony of the facility bearing his name."
"We can say as much or as little about that as you want, but it's a very satisfying detail to include. So, Cullen was his surname?"
"Yep," he answers without offering more.
"I don't expect you to acknowledge him as your grandfather, but you could ask someone to tell your family's story anonymously, or you could voice it over in post-production. It contains examples of modern Australia's indigenous history, including the fact that today's descendants have Norwegian and British DNA."
It's a good sign when he doesn't say no outright, and I'm hopeful I'm explaining my concept adequately.
"Mom will have to agree to this."
"Of course, and we can make it as generic as you want."
"I can call her while we're waiting for the flight to Sydney." I'm so happy to hear positivity, I lean over and kiss him.
He hums and throws a leg over me. "You know, this is going a lot further than what we originally discussed. I might have to ask for more compensation."
I frown at him, completely thrown by the statement. I never expected anything like this from the Masen I know, and I find it disturbing.
"There is no more compensation, unless you want to take it out of my salary."
With a sly smile, he raises his eyebrows. "I'd be prepared to accept sexual favors."
I narrow my eyes, realizing he had me going for a second. "Maybe you would have gotten them anyway if you weren't so damn greedy."
Pushing his leg off me, I try to get up and switch the lights off, but he holds me in place. "I never said I wouldn't reciprocate, baby."
"Then do me a favor and switch off the lights. I want to enjoy the aurora one last time."
Peppering my cheeks with kisses, he chuckles and does what I ask, spooning me as we watch the waves of color ripple across the sky.
January 13th - Sydney, Australia
On the final descent into Sydney, there is an enormous cloud of smoke trailing out to sea. I try to capture its scale from the air and decide to ask Alec to source some quality footage we can use in the documentary. I want to start easing him into the project and building our relationship.
Esme meets our flight, having returned from Melbourne, and it's not long before we're outside in the strong smell of smoke.
I've only stayed at Woollahra twice before, and it's a home full of the same timeless elegance as the woman who created it. She has made subtle changes since I was last here, but they are in keeping with its 1900's heritage. I ask about the striking painting that previously graced the living room wall, and she says it went to the charity Christmas auction at the school. Masen has told me she buys and sells art, always on the lookout for new talent to sponsor.
When he spoke to her about including their story in the project, she said she wants to discuss how we plan to do it anonymously with respect for the living and deceased. I'm looking forward to hearing more of her story and getting to know my future mother-in-law.
She loves my bouquet, complimenting me on how well I've looked after the flowers. I admit I had the cold on my side, plus the advice to add aspirin to their fresh water every couple of days. I just really wanted her to see them and experience their scent, and I tell her I've decided on something similar for the wedding.
Esme is delighted with her Helsinki salad bowl, washing and drying it, transferring her fresh fruit to their new home on the counter immediately. Masen is excited to show her the sweater I knitted for him, and I'm very pleased to see her admire my work.
Although she genuinely seemed pleased when we announced we were getting married, I know I need to gain her trust. Masen was preparing for a breakup not that long ago, so it's great that I have time to prove my devotion to her son and give her an insight into my vision for the documentary. I hope to welcome her collaboration.
Today, I can only commiserate on the state of her treasured garden and the fact that her asthma returned as soon as she came back to Sydney. For the first time, I witness the vulnerability that Masen has spoken of. When I ask if Sue is relieved now she has seen Rose, Esme averts her eyes, apologizing for keeping me talking when I must be exhausted. Before I can argue, she excuses herself to go find her puffer, and I'm left alone, recognizing traits of my own personality.
Masen is in the bedroom, unpacking his suitcase. "If it's okay with you, I want to get a load of washing on the line and then go to the school. We have to lodge that Notice of Impending Marriage."
I appreciate his need to get this moving. The official forms must be submitted a month before the wedding, and there's a jeweler, a wedding dress, and his clothes to find. We still haven't discussed accommodations in Melbourne, booking a photographer, cake maker or florist yet.
It seemed so easy to go along when Mom urged us to get married before we went away, but I have another project that won't get off the ground until I know the answers to a hundred questions.
"I thought you two would be talking about the wedding," Masen declares, surprised to see me so soon.
"No, I think her asthma is playing up."
"I'll go." The way he says it is like he has done this many times before.
I want to help, but Masen will have to guide me when it comes to his mother. Mom has warned me not to assume I'm part of their family. She says it's a right I must earn.
I begin sorting my laundry. We would have never hung clothes out to dry in Alaska, but everyone had clothes lines in South Africa. Masen didn't smell of smoke in Helsinki, so I expect it's okay, even with the current state of the air outside.
Looking through my dresses, I choose the white one with the blue flowers for the visit to Masen's school. Even though only the boarding school is currently open, Scots College is what I call ivy league, and I want to look like I fit into that world.
Masen returns, saying Esme gets anxious without her Ventolin, and I offer to iron his shirt while I'm doing my dress. He grins and thanks me, pulling a blue shirt from his closet, and I wonder if he's chosen that particular one so we're matching.
Having finished my dress, I'm tackling his shirt when Esme comes in.
"This is a gorgeous dress," she says, touching the fabric. "Where did you get it?"
I remember its purchase fondly. "It came from a little arcade in Johannesburg last spring. I was supposed to be helping a colleague choose an outfit, and it kept catching my eye. When I tried it on, I felt so happy I'd be seeing Masen soon that I just had to have it."
"And you're not going back to South Africa?"
"No. Well, there's always a possibility I'll have to return briefly, but this is my home now." I'm almost sure I see relief soften her face.
"Have you discussed where you might live?"
"Only that Masen wants to see more of the country before we make that decision."
I get a sense that she has more questions she's holding back, and it might be because we need to go out, or she genuinely thinks I'm jet-lagged.
She leaves me, then returns immediately. "I almost forgot. Carlisle has tomorrow off and wants to get their suit fittings out of the way. Can I take you to look for a wedding dress? There really isn't much time left."
"I know and yes, please. I'll appreciate any help you can give me."
"Then you two go to the school and get your paperwork underway while I make a few calls. You understand you won't be choosing anything bespoke?"
"Yes, I know I'll be looking at ready-to-wear."
"Good," she says with a smile I mirror. She doesn't realize what a godsend she is.
-0-
I'm brushing my hair when there's a knock on the bathroom door and Masen comes in, ready to leave. I haven't seen him in a button-down shirt for a while, and the pale blue makes him look fresh—good enough to eat, really.
"You look nice. I love that color on you," I state, checking him out as he folds up his cuffs.
"Cafe Nino tonight?" he asks, lifting a lock of my hair and watching it fall on my shoulder. "We'll get it delivered."
"The lobster pasta?" I'm already salivating over that memory.
"And a wedding dress tomorrow?" He runs a hand over my back, staring at my breasts in the mirror.
"Let's not get our hopes up that I'll find something tomorrow. My choices will be limited."
"Limited how?" he asks, obviously knowing nothing about the world of bridal wear.
"Brides usually try on a sample a minimum of six months before the wedding. Then their dress is made to their measurements, ready for fitting a month before the date. It's supposed to allow enough time for adjustments in case their weight fluctuates, so there is less anxiety about the dream dress fitting perfectly on the big day."
"Is this rush to get married going to ruin a dream for you?"
I cup his jaw because he really is a sweetheart. "Honestly, Masen, marrying you is the dream. Of course, I want to look nice and make you proud you chose me, but it really doesn't matter what dress I get. Your mother will help me find something suitable."
-0-
Masen's school really is like an elite college back in the States. Just the land it occupies must be worth a fortune. From the sports fields, the views of Sydney Harbour would be breathtaking without all the smoke.
It's not a long visit, however. The old chaplain has retired, so while Masen is always welcome as an "old boy," there are no faces here for him to recognize.
Our ceremony will have to be short and sweet. They have back-to-back weddings over the Valentine's Day weekend, and they're only fitting us in because we're not impacting the chapel with guests and floral decorations.
It makes me sad it's going to be just our parents, in and out quickly as if we were never here, but I try to stay focused on the part where I'll be leaving here married to Masen Edwards.
I'm still feeling down when we come back to discover my bouquet has shed its petals while we were gone. They didn't even last one day in Australia.
Then Masen does something that endears me to him. He takes all the petals to their compost heap and digs them in, saying they'll now be part of this garden forever. I hug him and snooze in his arms for the rest of the afternoon.
-0-
Over Nino's incredible lobster pasta, Masen recounts the events of January 7th, starting with the death of our celebrant in China. Carlisle announces they're isolating patients presenting with pneumonia, because there is a cluster of cases emerging in Wuhan, a city in central China. Early advice is that it's a virus that does not transmit easily between people, but they're taking precautions anyway.
Listening to Masen tell the story of that day makes it hard to believe it actually happened. Neither of them has any questions, and they both seem awestruck, taking it all in.
Carlisle eventually offers an opinion. "Those of us who work in hospitals, especially with critically ill patients, have seen and heard things we cannot explain. It's hard to discount a patient who was clinically dead describing something they could not have seen. I accept hearing can occur until the complete death of the brain, but one cannot see through closed eyes. It is possible there is a form of consciousness not related to the physicality of the brain, because I've heard patients describe themselves as two entities, one aware of the resuscitation taking place while the other stands by, calmly accepting death."
"Is this common?" I ask, hearing someone I trust say things I've only read or heard on the internet.
"It's not common to talk about it outside of the medical fraternity. We don't generally discuss miracles either, but we all know they occur."
Masen continues. "The more time that passes, the more I'm convinced we were placed there to save the life of this very special child. The symbols make the connection irrefutable."
Carlisle nods. "It's difficult to argue coincidence when such a young child was speaking in a foreign language, and even in Greek she could not have understood what it meant."
"You don't seem disturbed by this life-changing experience. You're not freaked out?" Esme asks.
I suppose that's understandable when it only happened a week ago, so I explain. "To tell you the truth, I went there expecting something to happen. I've had recurring dreams for years urging me to go back, but I never imagined there'd be other people involved. I was hoping to receive a sign that it's okay to let my friend go, but Masen and this country have been brought into it, now, so I believe she is showing her approval of the future I've chosen. Serena's part is not clear, but we are both connected to her forever, and I sense she will always be important to us."
"So ... Bella needs a new tattoo," Esme offers with a smile.
"I'm getting one, too." Masen confirms he's made up his mind, and I kiss him, loving that our shared tattoos will forever remind us that something incredible happened in Lapland.
-0-
I text Alec while we're having our morning coffee, asking about getting footage of the massive trail of smoke, and I'm pleased when he calls back straight away.
The three of us talk about the trip to Finland and what it has been like for him during the fires. He has an uncle waiting to return to salvage what's left of his burnt-out property, and Masen says we also have family who almost lost their lives saving their place.
We've all gone quiet when Alec makes a suggestion.
"I have the drone and I know where I can fly it. From a height of 120 metres, it won't look like what you saw from the plane, but it could be interesting flying in and out of the smoke to show the mass of the thing."
I love the way he thinks. "When are you available to work?"
"Whenever you want."
"Where are you currently based, Alec? I'm sorry, I don't actually know."
"I'm in Wollongong, an hour and a half south of Sydney, so I can just drive north until I get what I need. Are you looking for anything else while I'm there?"
"Like what?" I ask, eager to hear his thoughts.
"The toll on the bush. A lot of the fires have recently been extinguished, and it will grow back fast when it rains. Right now is the perfect time to capture the devastation."
"Is this something that would take multiple days?"
"I know the budget's tight, Bella, so I would only charge you for a single day, but I might find myself a nice beach to camp overnight and swim in the ocean."
I smile at Masen, picturing it in my head. "It sounds idyllic, Alec."
"Let's go with him," Masen whispers.
"Do you … would you like to come too?" Alec asks.
It's a terrific way to start our working relationship. We're already on the same page.
"Masen and I are both nodding here. We'd love to, Alec."
With a smile on my face, I let the two men take over, discussing days, cars, camping gear and locations.
xo Thanks for reading
Keep your thoughts coming. I love to read them.
