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-------March 1972-
"Serena is staying at the Manor" Bette said,"You should stay here too"
Ami glanced at her mother, whose face had aged a decade over the past few days. The death of her Zoisite & dear friend Darien weighed a toll on everyone they knew. Serena needed as many people as possible to comfort her. And who or what did Ami need herself. With the loss of Darien and Zoisite, a gaping rent had been opened up inside her heart. She felt empty, broken, bereft of hope. Who would comfort her?
Ami felt cheated. -I didn't even get to marry Zoisite. If it had only been Zoisite who'd been killed, I would be the only one receiving comfort.- And then she felt guilty for being so self-centered. And it was, since she had only lost her fiance, she felt as though she should be the one comforting Serena. But she had no comfort in her to give.
"No one from Zoisite's family came" Bette went on, sounding like a radio turned on low. "I can't believe he didn't have any family"
"Zoisite broke with his family years ago" Serena explained.
Ami closed her eyes, trying to block out the one conversation she and Zoisite had shared that had touched on his family. He hadn't wanted to invite any of them to his wedding, and none of them had come to his funeral. Or maybe they had attended. There had been a few strangers at the funeral, but maybe they'd just been FBI colleagues whom Ami had never met.
Zoisite's and her wedding day was only five days away now. -But I'm not getting married. Zoisite isn't coming back-
Ami felt as if she'd slipped out of her skin. She was raw and defenseless. Her love for Zoisite pulsed inside her like an aching of her very soul. Would anything ever be right again? She'd lost so many people- Mina to drugs, Rei to Jadeite, her father, Darien and now her own love. How did a person who had lost almost everyone she loved find a reason to go on.
-----May 1972------
Ami still felt ripped open inside, and her mother seemed unusually quiet. The phrase "Walking wounded" was a perfect description of how Ami felt.
Every morning when Ami awake, she tried to come up with a destination, a goal that would give her a purpose, a reason to move forward. But every morning she came up with no answer. She knew there had to be one. She couldn't just stop living because Zoisite was gone. Now, she walked beside Bette, she wondered if she could use this private time with her mother to make some sense of what her future could, should be. If anyone had answers it would be her wize, loving mother.
Unable to get up the energy to behind this kind of discussion, Ami let herself drink in the warmth of the sunny day, the scent of mown grass that permeated the air.
'It's hard to believe that dreadful George Wallace us speaking in Maryland today," her grandmother commented in a faraway voice.
Ami made a sound of acknowledgment. Bette didn't like Wallace, and it was far too beautiful a day for racist rally. Cocooned from the world, Ami was vaguely aware that another presidential race was in full swing, with Hubert Humphery and George McGovern fighting against Nixon, the incumbent. As a third-party candidate, George Wallace was campaigning on state's rights and white supremacy all over the South. Peace talks over Viet Nam had also begun in Paris. But all of that strife and striving was a world away from the soft breezes laden with the fragrance of late lilacs, lacy boughs of bridal wreath and periodic bouts of tears. Losing Zoisite filled Ami with emptiness, a weepiness she'd never imagined, never known before in her life.
-And I'm only twenty five.- That wasn't a pleasant thought. What else might she be expected to endure? She looked up gazing at the blue sky though the chartreuse leaves on the trees. Everything around her was fresh in blossom, and yet she felt frozen in the dead of winter.
The ache inside her was relentless, an all-consuming vacuum. "Will I ever feel normal again?" the words flowed out from deep inside Ami before she'd realize she was ready to speak.
Bette kept walking, but glanced at Ami. "I asked myself the same thing every morning. I grieve over losing your father. I grieve over Serena losing Darien and your losing Zoisite. All our grief's are multiplied"
"Sometimes I find it hard to breathe," Ami admitted.
Her mother nodded, "When your father left when you where younger. I had that same feeling"
Ami wanted to say, "Its not fair. You had Thirty years together." but of course, she couldn't What did it matter? Would she have loved Zoisite more if they'd had more years? That didn't seem possible.
Bette reached over and patted Ami's arm. "I don't know how, but we all will heal. No one can avoid mourning, but somehow it does end at last. It's best just to accept that the sorrow will work its way through us like a horrible virus that must run its course"
"What do we do until then?" Ami lowered her voice. What would take away this raw sorrow?
"We go on living- keep busy and comfort one another. That is what all this tragedy taught me"
Bette turned and gave her another of her sweet, loving smiles that warmed Ami from her head to her toes."I love you hunny"
"I love you, too, mom" -I do. I always will.
Ami pondered her mothers words and in her mind she heard Zoisite again; "You're the Joan of Arc. The crusader who wants to change the world." Tears slipped down her cheeks. She tried to hide them, not wishing to trigger more weeping in her mother. -Zoisite, I didn't want to save the world. I just wanted us to have a life together. Where do i go from here? When will this awful emptiness be filled?
Later when they returned, Serena met them at the backdoor. From the look on her face, Ami felt a tingle of dread."What's happened"
"It just came on the news"
"Not another assassination?" Ami's mother asked.
Serena shook her head. "Well it would have been if the man had succeeded. George Wallace has been shot during a rally at Laurel,Maryland. They think he's paralyzed"
"Well" Bette said wiping her muddy shoes on the rough mat. "I have his politics, but that doesn't mean I wanted someone to shoot him. When will this end"
Ami felt the same shock. In the years from 1963 - 1972 JFK, his brother Robert, Dr. King- all had been cut down by lesser men. How many politicians had to be killed before this terrible scourge stopped.
"Ami, you got a phone call when you were out."Serena handed her a slip of paper.
"From who?" Ami looked down at the phone number and name.
"Someone in the Maryland Democratic Party. She asked you to please call her back. It's Important, She said."
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YAY! This Chpt. is FINALLYY done. DONT worry I will add mroe adventure & romance in the next chpt. Just hold outt!!