I never saw her again. There were no phone calls or letters or even cards. The last notice was the one I held in my hand in my mother’s kitchen telling me she was gone.

For the first two years after she’d told me she was marrying Bastien and moving to Montreal, I bought a new calendar every year and circled our date on the calendar out of an old habit. I stayed on at Merrivale for ten years and took care of my children. Their faces changed every year but they were still all mine. Pippa had done that. In her way, she’d given me these children.

I had a few long-term affairs but nothing lasting. I lived with one woman for two years but there was something missing from the relationship or maybe it was something missing in me. After a decade of teaching in Toronto, I decided it was time for a new future and a new adventure. Bags had become a psychologist and shared a practice with someone. He always offered me free counselling and he kept telling me to find out how big the world was. That’s how I ended up in South Korea teaching English as a second language. It was the tonic I needed in my early forties. It didn’t fill the hole in me but it was a distraction.

I looked down at the Alumni Magazine and reread the notice of Pippa’s passing. She had died on the seventeenth of August. That had only been five days after her forty-third birthday. It was a life cut short.  

“What are you reading?”

I snapped out of what had been a long reverie. It was my mother. I’d been lost in my history of Pippa and it took me a moment to snap back into the present.

“Sometimes it doesn’t rain but it pours,” I offered.

“What are you on about Jeff?”

“Oh, I was just reading in the Alumni Magazine about the death of someone I know.”

“Did you know them well?”

“She, mother. Yes, I did. Do you remember when I was in high school and there was that girl whose brother was killed in a motorcycle accident?”

“Oh yes, she came over to the house once didn’t she?”

She had been over to the house on more than one occasion but I couldn’t tell my mother about those other times.

“Yes, that was the girl. Her name was Pippa Bailey. She married a guy I knew and moved to Montreal.”

“Were you good friends?”

How did I answer that?  

“You once told me when it came to her to be a friend. You said I should do whatever I could for her and more importantly to try and do whatever she asked me.”

“And did you?”

“I like to think I did.”

“Then that’s all that’s important.”

I hoped it was. 

I took the alumni magazine back to my room along with some of the leftover partially emptied bottles of liquor from my father’s celebration of life. There was enough in a handful of them to toast long and hard to my father and Pippa. I passed out with an empty bottle in one hand and the curled-up Alumni Magazine in the other.

I dreamed of her again. It had been a while.  

We were dancing together at a celebration of life for her. It was unique that the honoree was still living. All about were people we knew. There was Dr. Bags and Connie and Rod and Rhonda and a young Ben and Sandra. The room was also full of children. Some were my children from classes I’d taught long past as well as Bags’ children and Rod and Rhonda’s three. Pippa spun off from me as Elvis music was playing in the background and the children danced all around her. This was Pippa as I’d last seen her. She had come to me that time in a brilliant orange dress that seemed all at once to be all the colours of fire blazing and shimmering. The children encircled her while her dress became a real fire and consumed her and blazed into an encompassing funeral pyre. Suddenly Pippa stepped out and she was the girl from the mural at Carlotta’s; all young and beautiful. I could hear Elvis and Sinatra singing together on the last refrain of ‘Love Me Tender’ and Pippa shone all bright and new while they sang “For my darling, I love you and I always will.” She extended her hand and called out to me.

 “Jeff. Jeff.” I slowly opened my eyes to reveal Ben Dawkins shaking me awake and calling my name. I didn’t recognize him right away. It had been many years. I had heard long ago from Pippa that he and Sandra had married while I was working in Toronto.

“Ben, what are you doing here?” I grumbled. “I was having such a lovely dream. You’re a little late for my father’s celebration. That was yesterday. If you’re here to offer me condolences then it’s a little early for that.” I reached for the pillow and covered my head.

“Get up. It’s the middle of the morning. You can sleep later.” He reached for the pillow and the blankets at the same time and jerked them both onto the floor.

“Coffee,” I mumbled, “for the love of god. Coffee and a damn good explanation why you’re here.”

“Coffee will be waiting. I need you to get up.”

“Shower first and then there better be coffee,” I moaned as I sat up and tried to clear the haze from my head.

“Okay, shower. We had to be quick to set things up. You didn’t give us any time. If it wasn’t for your mother then we wouldn’t have known.”

I got slowly to my feet and tried to decipher what he was saying. “Set what up? Who’s we? There better be coffee!”

“Your brother contacted me last night. Your mother called him first,” Ben continued. “She said you were upset about someone else dying that you knew. We thought we’d have more time. Sandra’s been furiously getting things ready.”

“Ben, what are you on about? I haven’t seen you in years and you show up now all mysterious and offer no explanations.” I realized I still held the Alumni Magazine in my hand but the last bottle was peeking out at me from under the bed.

“You shower and then we’ll get going. Everything will be explained when we get there. At least, I hope it will.”

I decided not to inquire further. He clearly wasn’t going to offer up any new information. I quickly showered and shaved and put on some fresh clothes.

“Do you still run?” Ben asked as I readied.

“I’ve kept it up. Ran a couple of marathons in Toronto for charity. My finishes weren’t anything to brag about. Nothing like the Harrier, though.

“Nothing was like the Harrier. Do you still have gear?” It was then that I noticed Ben was in running shoes and sweats. He still had an incredible tan. Hadn’t Pippa said something once about him doing outdoor work? My brain wasn’t working properly yet. Maybe it would come to me.

“Yeah, wait, you’re not suggesting we go for a run? I thought we had someplace to be?” I wasn’t sure I was up for any physical activity but I wasn’t prepared to let him know it. If he wanted a race, I’d give him one but then I didn’t know where his suggested finish line would take us.

“Lace up,” was all he said. I obliged. I had taken my shoes and running attire with me to South Korea and I had kept fit while I was there. I had to retrieve them from some of the luggage I hadn’t yet unpacked.

“Where are we going?” I asked as Ben led me out of the house and into the street. I looked around but I didn’t see any strange cars. Had he run over to my house or been dropped off?

“The route will become familiar enough.” Ben started to pace ahead of me and I took on the challenge and kept up.

We ran through the neighbourhood and out towards our old high school. I hadn’t seen it in ages. I always meant to during my brief visits home but it held too many painful memories. I looked for the track as we ran by.  

“Remember the long relay, Ben? That was a lifetime ago.”

“Oh, I remember. I think you’re still running it. Get ready for the handoff.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Skip it. You’ll find out soon enough.” Where was he leading me and what was he leading me into?

“What are you doing these days Ben, if I’m allowed to ask?” I wasn’t sure what he had prepared for me but I thought this was at least a safe question.

“I have my own landscaping business in Peterborough.” That was part of the memory I had been searching for but I didn’t recall any mention of Peterborough.

“Peterborough? How’d you end up in Peterborough?”

“I thought you knew.”

“Knew what? I haven’t seen you in years and my contact for news or gossip up and moved away to Montreal more than a decade ago. Now she’s gone too.” That struck a chord. I had missed out on so much and there was probably even more I didn’t know about.

“Sandra bought out Pippa. She’s running Carlotta’s.”

That bit of information had been kept from me. The last time I saw Pippa she said she had a buyer but I never suspected she’d keep it in the family; so to speak. I would have thought that fact would have hurt more than it did. I was glad the business had gone into good hands.

“No, I didn’t know. That’s good news I guess for the both of you.”

“It was a no-brainer,” Ben replied. “Pippa offered, Sandra accepted, and I followed.”

“And you gave up your life to pursue your wife’s goal? I thought you had a landscaping concern here?”

“Gave it up. I wasn’t going to stand in the way of Sandra’s ambition. When you’re in love you do what you can to make your partner happy. Like I said, it was a no-brainer. I built up a new business in Peterborough and we have two wonderful boys. I’m hoping later on to change the business name to Dawkins and Sons. It has a good ring to it.”

He’d followed the girl. That had been something I couldn’t do. I had tried to convince myself I could but I hadn’t been very convincing to Pippa. She knew my real future lay elsewhere. I was glad it had worked out for Ben but I still couldn’t help feeling jealous of his happiness.

Ben’s route continued past the school and down the hill and turned onto the first street. A memory of me chasing Pippa during the Harrier flashed through my mind. Next, we turned on the street where Pippa had lived and then Ben trotted into the driveway for the avocado house.

“What’s going on? What are we doing here?” My mind was still swirling from the night before and the vivid dream of Pippa. Was I still asleep and this was another extension of that fantasy? 

The avocado house was still there. The paint had been refreshed and there were some new windows and doors. Gone were the small covered porch and the brickwork-enclosed flower beds that had stood on either side of the front door. The paving stone walkway led instead to a new deck that measured the entire front of the house. There were some planter boxes attached to the railings of the deck in which some late blooming flowers were peering over the edges. The carport had also been replaced with a modern detached garage.  

I turned and looked at the yard leading to the street. The large tree in front was still there and another memory shone through of a sign with big pink letters encouraging me to RUN, PINK, RUN. Many of the other houses on the street looked the same will little changes here and there. The cars were more modern and there was evidence of children in other houses with toys and play equipment on other lawns. A young woman jogged passed me and was gone almost before I had realized she’d passed. She looked familiar but different. It was no one I knew.

“Let’s go inside, Jeff, the others are waiting.” Ben clapped me on the back and steered me toward the side door. “I think we’ll have some answers for you.”

The small entranceway from the side door that led into the hall had not changed. Paint had been refreshed on the interior as well but the general layout was the same. I knew the way to the kitchen and I turned and followed Ben.

There had been some changes over the years in the house and it looked brighter and homier than the last time I had been inside. There was new furniture in the living room and a new table and chairs set in the kitchen. Everywhere else were unopened boxes. Either someone was in the act of moving in or moving out. It was hard to tell. There still were no photos on the walls. Were they already packed away in anticipation of a move or yet to be unpacked? It was funny that in the more than twenty years since I had been there last, my old memories of these rooms and this new memory recalled the absence of photos both times.

Rhonda got up from one of the kitchen chairs and came to hug me.

“Welcome back to the avocado house, Jeff. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Sandra and Rod were there too. It struck me this might be some kind of intervention but I didn’t think there was anything to correct in my life.

“Thanks, but whose house is this? What is this all about?”

“It’s Pippa’s or it was,” Sandra replied. “Your mother called your brother after you learned of her death and then Rod called us. Pippa had given them my contact information before…” She trailed off and was silent. Ben got up and put his arm around his wife.

“It’s okay,” I offered. “We hadn’t seen each other for a long time.” I couldn’t tell Sandra how much it hurt. I didn’t want to grieve there in that house. There had been enough of that in the home all those years after Roger died. Just being in the house was making me uneasy with old memories.

“Pippa bought it earlier this year when she learned it was on the market,” Sandra continued. “We’ll explain about that. Sit down, Jeff. Ben, get him some coffee.”

“Where are your children today?” I asked of Rod and Rhonda. “I didn’t see them in the yard.” I took a look out a window facing the front. The young woman was passing again. I didn’t have a full glimpse of her but she definitely looked familiar.

“Teddy and Jill are with Amber,” Rhonda replied. “She’s sixteen now and a pretty responsible girl. Of course, she’s asking to get paid for watching her siblings. She’s financially enterprising, that one. I wonder where she gets it from?” Rhonda stole a look toward Rod.

Their children had been at my mother’s the previous day for the gathering in remembrance of my father. There were other children and adults there as well that were either relatives or friends. I hadn’t recognized half of them. I had spent too much time away to know all of them.

Ben handed me a cup of coffee and we all sat around the table.

Rod passed me a large envelope that had been in the middle of the table.

“You probably have a thousand questions little brother but I don’t know the answers to half of them. All I know is we’re supposed to give you this and you’ll be able to figure it out from there.”

“We put it all together,” Rhonda chimed in. “Some things Rod and I had for a while and the rest Pippa sent to Sandra before she…” Rhonda was choked off by emotion from finishing her sentence. I recognized whatever was to come was going to be tough on everyone.

“Open it, Jeff,” Rod urged.

What was this all about? This was insane. There I was sitting in the avocado house with my brother and his wife and another couple consisting of an old friend and Pippa’s cousin and I was being handed a mysterious package with bequeathed instructions from Pippa. I felt like pinching myself to see if I was still asleep. Maybe I could get back to that dream of Pippa rising like a phoenix from the fire.

I opened the envelope and emptied the contents onto the table. Out fell another envelope and some index cards. Something else was stuck in one corner of the envelope I had just opened and I had to reach inside to retrieve it. It was a gold band.

I looked at Rhonda and there were tears coming from both of our eyes. Rod had hung his head to avoid me seeing his emotions. Ben and Sandra remained silent.

“Do you remember that night you both came to our apartment after your cancelled wedding? She gave me the ring and note cards and asked me to hold onto them for her. She said she’d tell me when the time was right to give them to you. I guess she ran out of time.” Rhonda had spoken through her tears and I reached out and squeezed her hand.

I tried on the ring. It still fit. It had been twenty-five years since she had left me at the bottom of the courthouse steps wondering if I’d ever see her again. I remembered well that night at Rod and Rhonda’s. She had told me how much she loved me and why she hadn’t gone through with the marriage. She had also told me she was going to Quebec City.

I picked up the index cards and began to read aloud.

Jeff Carter, you are everything. You are everything good and loving and every wonder in all my days. You are everything true and right and complete in my life. You are everything to me. You quote Browning and you see the person who I want to be. I want to be the one who makes you happy. I want to be your first vision when you wake and your last when you close your eyes. There's another Browning who wrote words I take now as my own truth. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with the breath, smiles and tears, of all my life and I shall but love thee better after death.  

I dropped the cards on the table and sobbed openly. I had thought my vows to her had been perfect but she had surpassed me. ‘And I shall but love thee better after death’. How prophetic were those words?

I sensed Rod rise to his feet. “I have to get some air,” he said and left the kitchen. I heard his steps followed by the opening of the side door.

The rest of us sat quietly together for a few minutes and Rhonda hugged me and comforted me.

“There’s one more envelope, Jeff,” Sandra said after composing herself.

“I can’t…”

“Do you want me to read it?” she asked.

“Please.” It was all I could say. I was a mess.

She opened the remaining envelope and laid the papers out in front of her.

“There’s a note here. It says ‘Dear Pink, I hope you’ll forgive me for calling you that one more time. This is not how I wanted you to hear this but I’ve come to my last chapter and now it’s time for you to write our story. In these pages are my final words and everything I should have told you before. I’m sorry. I’ve always loved you. Know that. Please be happy. Love, Pippa.”

“Do you want me to read from the other pages?” Sandra asked.

I was hesitant. It felt like everything in there might be too private for anyone else. I tried to imagine what Pippa would have wanted in that scenario. I decided to let Sandra continue and I’d pretend it was Pippa’s voice. I knew I wasn’t in any state to read them myself.

“Go ahead,” I urged Sandra.

She began to read and I listened to Pippa’s words and tried to hear how she would have read me this concluding entry.

“Home was chaotic. My mother was always in tears and I think I had run out of them. I didn’t know how to handle my grief. My brother was gone and my family was in shambles. I didn’t know what to do. Pink was on my mind. I had caught a glimpse of him at the funeral and I wanted so much to see him…to be with him.  

Pink had been the one constant in my life during that time and I’d pushed him away. I needed him and I needed him to need me. I decided to go to him and hoped he could help me make sense of everything. It was daring and dangerous to walk the streets late at night and try to find him at home and urge him to comfort me. He did it, though, without asking.  

He held me and said nothing and I knew I had made the right decision. My pain was overwhelming and Pink holding me stirred everything in me that I could not hold back. I initiated the lovemaking and I pushed every raw sad emotion aside. I wanted only that moment of being with him and nothing else mattered.

We continued to make love over the coming days. I was blinded by the sensual relationship and I wanted it to continue forever. I proposed marriage to him and made a concentrated effort to make him want to marry me. He was hesitant at first but I pushed and cajoled and wouldn’t give up. He had to be mine. I would not go back to all the bad feelings. Pink would be my husband and he’d make me happy. He had to.

In the weeks leading up to our wedding, I was focused only on making things happen as I had dictated. Pink aligned his thinking with mine and we were united on my goal of us being married. There were no other options I would consider.

In time, I discovered to my sheer delight and horror, that I was pregnant. I couldn’t understand it, we had been so careful. It came down to that night in his bedroom or possibly the next morning. We had been so caught up in our passion that we didn’t think about precautions those first times. I did later on but by then it was, as I discovered, too late.

What did this mean for our marriage? At first, I thought it didn’t change anything. I wouldn’t be showing in June and I could tell him later on. We’d figure it out. Then I began to think telling him before the wedding was the right thing to do because then he’d have to want to marry me. That’s when I began to realize it was all wrong.

Pink had another year of high school and then University. What would this do to his plans? My mind raced with the possibilities of how Pink would react. I swayed back and forth between the options of telling him or not. The wedding had to be my first decision. What was I to do about the wedding? Could I go through with it or did I tell Pink we had to cancel and not give him an explanation?

I believed in my heart that going through with the ceremony was the right thing to do. Pink had become excited and committed to the plan of marrying me. I couldn’t take that away from him. There would be time enough afterwards to sort things out.

I tried to go through with the wedding but I was crippling myself with anguish. I was so happy to be carrying Pink’s child but the thought that I would commit him to a future as husband and father at the same time was too much. I went through the motions of getting ready and following through but somewhere along the way, I realized I had only wanted everything for myself. I hadn’t really given much thought to Pink and what he wanted. Of course, he’d marry me if he knew I was having a baby. That was wrong, too. I couldn’t start our wedded life thinking he was only marrying me in order to do right by me. When I started having morning sickness on the bus ride to the court house it was another sign that my insides were telling me I needed to focus not only on what was best for Pink but what was best for me and my child.

The worst thing I have ever had to do was to walk away from Pink on the day of our wedding. His face showed how I had broken him. There is no worse feeling than knowing that you’ve driven away the one person who truly loved you and you couldn’t tell them the truth.

I decided I would go away and have our baby and if we were meant to be together then it would happen. I was going to be a mother and was going to be responsible for her in every way. I was determined that I would make all the right decisions. If I wasn’t prepared to trap Pink into this new family then I’d go it alone. I didn’t see my pregnancy as an accident or a mistake. It was an opportunity for me to take responsibility for my actions and to create a new life with a new life.

I didn’t tell my mother. I’d need her in time but if she knew about the baby then she’d convince me to stay and try to take care of me. She was still grieving Roger and I couldn’t take that away from her. She’d find out eventually but I couldn’t stay in town and risk Pink finding out. I didn’t want to hold him back. He was going to be a Teacher or a writer if I had to hide that baby from him forever.

It wasn’t right not letting Pink know but I’d been forcing my vision of our ideal future on him and it had to stop. I had to let him find his own way. I wouldn’t keep him from it.

I told no one I was pregnant; not even my cousin. Of course, I had to reach out to someone for help. It was strange to think of Bastien as my saviour but he took the role on so readily and I needed some options. He offered up his home in Quebec City. He spoke to his parents and helped me make the plans. As if leaving Pink at the altar wasn’t bad enough, having to tell him I was going to live with a rival of his, without revealing about the baby, was torture. It had to be done, though. I just hoped it would be the last time I’d ever have to hurt him.

Convincing my mother to let me go was just as difficult. I had to lie to her and withhold the truth. I told her it was going to be part of my healing process. We fought and argued and cried but she let me go.

Bastien and his family were terrific. They nurtured me and cared for me and it was a family experience I hadn’t had in a long time. They never asked me about the father of the baby but Bastien had already figured it out. He was so kind. He never asked me about Pink and made sure my every need was met.

In the fall, I contacted my mother and told her everything. She came to Quebec City right away. There was a bit of a confrontation when she asked me if the baby was Bastien’s. I told her he wasn’t the father but as for the parentage of the baby that the only important thing was I was the child’s mother.

On the tenth of January, 1980, I gave birth to a seven-pound and eight-ounce baby girl. I named her Carlotta Pink Bailey. Bastien, alone, understood the middle name of Pink. My mother was the only one I would allow in attendance at the hospital. It brought us closer than we’d been in a long time. When she held her granddaughter for the first time I believe it filled the hole left by my brother. When I held my daughter for the first time it was the most extreme sense of love and happiness I’d ever felt. The only thing that took away from the birth was not having Pink there to share in it.  

I spent the next seven months in Quebec City with Bastien and his family with my mother visiting every other week. We watched Carlotta grow and I made plans for my own future with her. I was determined to get my education back on track. I applied to schools in Ontario with Business programs and was eventually accepted by Trent. My mother helped me out financially and with some student grants and loans, I was able to solidify the arrangements for moving to Peterborough.

I found a nice single mother with room for Carlotta and I. Her name was Beth and she was raising her son on her own. Her husband was in the military and they had been separated for about a year. He wasn’t going to be around much and the arrangement that Beth and I made would be mutually beneficial. We both took care of the children. I went to school during the day and Beth worked evenings. We took turns spelling each other off.

In the fall I responded to an advertisement in the personal column of the student newspaper. Sometimes I had a habit of running at night when Beth was at home and Carlotta was fast asleep. Apparently, someone had noticed me one night and wanted to meet. I had no suspicions at the time it was Pink. It seemed like another adventure and the date and location of the meet-up appeared to be respectable and harmless. I was curious. It had just been Carlotta and I for a while and I felt special that someone had become enamoured enough to reach out to me that way.

Of course, it was Pink. It had to be Pink. Whenever I felt like we were apart for good, something pulled us back together. It was uncomfortable and exciting at the same time. This was the first time I’d seen Pink in well over a year and the first time he’d seen me since I had given birth. Would he sense that big of a change in me?

He was angry at me initially but we pushed through the tension and found a way to reconnect. We agreed to tell each other our stories. His was exactly as I remembered it but with some insights into how I had hurt him on several occasions. For my part, my account filled in some of the gaps but left out everything about our daughter. I didn’t think he was ready for that. I certainly wasn’t ready for him to learn the truth.

It was nice seeing Pink again. The big problem was we were both still in love with each other. I thought I had given him the push to find his own path but he was still clinging to our past. It would have been easier if he’d gone to any other school and we hadn’t reconnected. Having him so close instilled a need in me to keep the contact open and ensure he kept on track with his own goals. I told him I’d see him around but I secretly hoped I wouldn’t. At least that’s what I told myself.

I didn’t see Pink again until the spring. I was busy with school and Carlotta. I had also started to develop my plans for a children’s clothing store and, with a nod to a previous suggestion from Pink, I was going to name it after my daughter. That made three Carlottas in my life. My daughter and the store idea continuously vied for my attention but sometimes the old Carlotta inside me struggled to make herself known. I was being torn in so many directions and it was difficult just trying to find time for me. The running at night helped but it wasn’t enough.

Beth kept pushing me to go out and have a personal life. She’d begun to go on some dates herself and would remind me I was still young and I should go and experience things outside of our home. I didn’t know how to do that. All of the Carlottas had been my main focus. I didn’t know what else there was or even what I was supposed to want.

Throughout the year I had noticed personal ads placed by Pink where he hoped to see me again. I avoided responding because I didn’t want to lose my direction. I was working on my present and my future and I needed Pink to concentrate on his own. If he became aware that he had a daughter then he’d switch his purpose and would try for a family life with us. I didn’t want him to have to settle for a dream that wasn’t his.

I began to have bouts of depression in the new year and I knew it was time to take Beth’s advice. It coincided with the anniversary of Roger’s death and I could feel myself slipping further and further into myself. I had to find a way to recalibrate and get back to basics. My daughter needed me and I couldn’t let her lose me to another entity that bore her name.

I placed an advertisement in the same personal column in the student newspaper. It was simply ‘Think Pink’. I hoped it was enough to get Pink’s attention. He had stopped placing his own notices a few months before that and I wasn’t really sure if he’d show up at our old rendezvous location. I needn’t have worried because he was there.

It was embarrassing and uncomfortable being with him again. I kept questioning why I had done it. Why was I there? What did I expect from him? I was trying to build my life and here I was inserting myself again into his. The truth was I felt safe with Pink. I felt right with him. Within minutes, all the old awkwardness faded away and I was Pippa Bailey again with the boy she loved. I wasn’t a mother or a business student or even someone battling personal demons. I was me.

I couldn’t explain to Pink what it was I wanted from him. I wasn’t sure myself. Beth had encouraged me to go and do something foolish and stay out all night if I had to. She would take care of Carlotta and I was under direct instructions to have fun. My problem was I didn’t know what that should entail.

The short version of the events of that evening was that I ended up in a pub with Pink and some of his friends. He had a female friend that tagged along and I was suspicious of her but curious as to what she was to Pink. I soon learned that what she was, in Pink’s estimation, was a substitute for me. He couldn’t explain it. I didn’t think he was serious about her and he confirmed it when we found ourselves alone at the end of the night in a bus shelter passionately kissing and telling each other what we were doing wasn’t right. It must have been right enough because we spent the night together. Neither of us regretted a minute of it.

Pink and I had left it very casual. We agreed we’d see each other around. For the next few years, I’d see him in the fall to catch up and in the spring for more intimate enterprises. He was Carlotta’s father and I needed to keep him close but I still wasn’t at the point where I thought I could tell him the truth. We were both working hard on our studies and trying to figure out what came after University. My plans for the store were progressing and my daughter took up the rest of my time. Graduation came and went and it was two more years before I was ready for the opening of Carlotta’s.  

I had sketched a design for the front window and an artist friend of Beth’s painted my rendition into a wonderful mural across the glass. It pictured my daughter Carlotta in a fashionable spring outfit. I was surprised by how much the rendering looked like a younger version of myself. I sent out invitations to both Pink and Bastien. I hoped that both would make an appearance.

I had kept in touch with Bastien since I’d left Quebec City. He had been a good friend throughout my pregnancy and never pressured me in any way for a romantic relationship with him. He knew my vision was set forward on a life I was going to build for Carlotta and I. He would write me occasionally or call and I learned he had accepted a job in Montreal with a financial firm. He was also dating someone and I wished him well.

I was surprised when Pink wrote and said he would attend the opening. I hadn’t seen him for two years but I’d kept in touch with him as I had Bastien. Pink was working in Toronto for an agency that specialized in troubled teens. I was sure he had probably drawn on his experience with me. The lack of contact felt like forward movement toward Pink’s future. I had been hopeful to see him but I was happy he had a professional career he seemed to enjoy.

Pink didn’t turn up for the grand opening of Carlotta’s. I was disappointed but when he wrote to me about a work emergency I understood he was finally able to prioritize his own needs over mine. It seemed like progress but it still smarted. I had worked myself up to finally telling him about our daughter. It felt like the right time. I had achieved my dream and he was living his. I was hoping there was some way we could align our lives and Carlotta could be a part of his. I knew it was wishful thinking. His absence made it easier for me not to follow through with my decision. Two years was a long time and I was sure we’d grown further apart. I accepted it because it was what I had wanted for him all along.

Two more years went by before I heard from him again. Communication between us had dwindled to the occasional card with short notes. He had moved into a supportive teaching assistant position and he was hoping it would give him the experience he needed to be a teacher himself one day. He was moving further and further from me but exactly in the direction I wanted for him. That’s why it was so surprising to receive an invitation from him to his friend’s wedding. It had been four years since we’d last been together and I was sure he no longer needed me in his life.

I hesitated about answering him but I was still friends with Beth and she encouraged me to accept the invite. She said I’d regret it and would always wonder what was behind Pink’s request. Beth also told me it was time to be foolish again. The store was a success but it kept me busy. My own Carlotta was seven years old and she was a going concern as well. It left me little time for anything else. Going to Toronto and being with Pink seemed like the diversion I needed at the time.

Seeing him again was like every other time we’d come together after long absences. I couldn’t help but experiencing the same emotions again. At first, it made me bitter and I lashed out at Pink for letting so much time pass. It was my own fault. He was only doing what I expected of him. He’d moved forward and his job was his life. That was where I found fault. I wanted more for him. He needed to find someone who wasn’t me.

The wedding was beautiful and so was the time I spent with Pink. The old sense that we were right together was still there. He was clinging too strongly to it. He even suggested we get married. We both realized however that would be a mistake. Neither of us was prepared to give up what we had built up for ourselves. It bothered me that Pink still thought his destiny was with me. I knew I wasn’t good for him. We weren’t teenagers anymore but every time we got together the old stirrings would be there and Pink would look to rewrite his future. I couldn’t let that happen but then I couldn’t just let him go.

We devised an arrangement where we’d come together each year on June twenty-second; which was the anniversary of the wedding date I’d walked away from. I told myself it would be just checking in with an old friend but I made him commit to trying to have some kind of personal life in the interim. My hope was that he’d cancel because he’d had a better offer from someone who was better for him than me. For four years we met annually and we were those two love-struck kids all over again. I had promised him I’d look for a life away from him as well but I never seemed to find time for it. Pink was my fallback but by keeping him in that role, I was encouraging him not to find the one he could be with.

During those four years, I concentrated on the store and home. Carlotta and I moved into an apartment of our own. She was becoming a young lady and was asking a lot of questions I felt uncomfortable answering. When she asked about her father I would just say it was someone I loved very much but he was someone who couldn’t be in our life. She came to accept my answer but she always wondered about my yearly visits to Toronto. She’d stay with Beth and I’d say I was taking a ‘me’ day or weekend or however long it took. She was smart and I didn’t think I was fooling her.

She and I took a trip one year to visit her Uncle Bastien and see him get married. She had been raised knowing Bastien and there were times when she suspected he might be her father. I kept telling her Bastien and I were friends and when he married someone else she began to accept what I had told her as the truth. I was happy for Bastien but I had described him to Pink once as my fallback and when Bastien got married that left only Pink as a future option. Maybe that’s why I kept going back to Toronto every year.

Pink was now Jeff and Jeff was now a teacher. He’d gone back to school and received his teaching degree. I was so excited for him. Each year he seemed to become the man I had expected he would turn out to be. He went back to work for his old employer but as a full-fledged educator in their school program. Each year he was the happiest I had ever seen him. Each year I became a little more miserable. He had become Jeff Carter and gone was the boy named Pink. He even insisted on me calling him by his right name. Oh, I was happy when I was with him but the old passions didn’t translate well to our adult life. We still found love-making exhilarating but each year I thought it would be our last together but I always found him alone and waiting. Professionally he was all he could be but his personal life had failed to launch. I knew I was still the cause of that.

I began to date but it was difficult when every man I went out with seemed to find a better place to be when they found out I had a daughter at home. I didn’t care. I had Carlotta and my store. My life was complete. I kept telling myself that but by holding on to my annual affair with Jeff I was telling myself otherwise. I wanted Jeff to find someone but I also didn’t want him to have anyone but me. I hadn’t grown in that aspect and I was preventing Jeff from fulfilling his potential in that area.

Bastien and his wife began to have problems after a few years. I suspected I was the problem there too. I knew he still loved me. He didn’t say it but I felt his marriage was him settling for something he couldn’t have. They had a son, Emile, and Bastien thought that would bring them closer together. It had the opposite effect. He doted more on Emile and less on his wife until they found themselves going their separate ways. It was a difficult time for him at the same time I was going through a difficult phase with Jeff.  

Bastien would find any excuse to get away from Montreal and often he would end up in Peterborough and telling me of his troubles. Sometimes he brought Emile and Carlotta and I would go on outings with Bastien and his son. I didn’t think it could happen but I found myself falling for this more mature Bastien. He was a wonderful father and loving friend. He began to fill the void in my life I could not have with Jeff. It wasn’t long before he asked me to marry him. His divorce had been finalized and he was waiting for my decision.

I’d like to say I didn’t know what to think when Bastien proposed but the truth was I wanted to say yes right away. I was ready to be someone’s wife and give that part of me. Carlotta loved him, too, and it made sense to me in so many ways. I told myself I could be happy with Bastien and I’d be a good stepmother to Emile and I knew Bastien would love and care for Carlotta as if she was his own.

Jeff was the problem. I still loved Jeff. It was different though. We were clutching to a history and we weren’t ready for the type of adult relationship I envisioned with Bastien. Jeff had told me there were only two options. They were marry me or let me go. When I kept going back to him I was keeping both of those options alive. I had to force his hand and have him realize that letting me go was best for both of us.

I went to see him one more time. It was difficult but I couldn’t see any other way. I told him right out I was marrying Bastien and moving to Montreal to be a family. I thought I was setting both of us up for a world of pain but Jeff’s maturity was something I hadn’t bargained on. I think he finally realized what was best for me was not what was best for him. He had his life in Toronto as a teacher and he had all his children in the form of his students. I was never going to take that away from him and I would never accept an alternative from him that saw him give all that up for me. I could give up my store and move to Montreal because I was building something better with Bastien; something better for me and something better for my daughter.

I should have told Jeff about Carlotta that last time we were together but she’d be the deciding factor that would make him select the noble choice of throwing everything away just to play family. I couldn’t do that. I was prepared to sacrifice that dream I’d had once of being his wife and the mother of his children. I was prepared to sacrifice that dream for a better one. If there was one thing I learned from Elvis, it was you gotta follow that dream wherever that dream may lead. You gotta follow that dream to find the love you need.

I married Bastien that summer and by fall I had transferred the store to my cousin Sandra and I went to start a new adventure in Montreal. I opened a smaller children’s boutique clothing shop in a mall and spent just as many hours being a loving wife and mother. Bastien was the husband I had denied myself and I loved him just as much in return. Carlotta was a wonderful sister to Emile and our family grew out of our love.

I never saw Jeff again. We didn’t write and we didn’t call. Letting each other go had to be something permanent and there couldn’t be any strings attached. I thought of him often as I imagined he did of me but my life was full and wonderful. I hoped his was as well.

When I became sick and I realized all the passages of my life were closing, I knew it was time to tell Carlotta the truth. She needed to know her father and he needed to know her. My mother came to be with me for my final months. I told her the truth as well. She helped me buy the avocado house for Carlotta after I learned it had been put on the market. I wanted her to live there and make her own memories. It was there I knew she’d find her father and it was there I knew Jeff would find the last piece of our love I had kept from him all those years.”

Sandra placed the last page on the table and was silent for a minute. That’s how I knew she was finished. It was Pippa’s last chapter.

All three of them could see the look of shock and wonder on my face. I had wanted to interrupt Sandra when I had heard I had a daughter but I had to let her keep on reading. These had been Pippa’s last words and I had to hear her story. It was our story. And I knew I had to write it.

I had shed tears with every line Sandra had read. I had never felt such despair and anger and pain. I also never felt so much love. Pippa had loved me and through that love, we’d produced a daughter. This wasn’t just any daughter. This was our daughter and now she was giving her to me. I knew what she meant when she wrote this was the piece of our love she had kept from me all those years. I understood it was also the piece that had been missing from my life. Carlotta was the last piece of Pippa I needed to be whole.

I was silent myself for what seemed like ages. I kept staring out the window and thinking about how it had all begun. Run, Pink, Run. And how I had run! Pippa Bailey had been the best thing that had ever happened to me and now she was gone. But she wasn’t gone completely. We had a daughter. Carlotta.  

“I’m sorry Jeff,” Sandra began. “Pippa told me not to say anything. She sent me these papers and she told us about the avocado house and to help Carlotta.”

“When Pippa reached out to Rod and I,” Rhonda chimed in, “we had told Pippa where you were but she insisted we not do anything until you came home. We all hoped we’d have a little more time to find a way to break it to you.”

I wasn’t really listening to them at that point. My mind had been swirling with the revelation. I thought of the young woman I had seen running on our way here. It was her. It was the girl from the mural all fully grown. Suddenly she was there again in the street running past the house.

“Excuse me, everyone. I have to go.” I dashed out of the house and past Rod who was leaning against his car.

He called after me.

“Jeff, where are you going?”

What could I tell him? I had a daughter and she was a runner. She looked just like her mother. This was the part of Pippa I had left. I had to run after her.

“I’m sorry Rod, I have to go. Can’t you see? Pippa’s passing.”

-The End-