In This Life by Christine Brae Page B

favorite was the landscape collection by Jean Metzinger. A beautiful burst of color depicted in contrasting shapes and sizes.
    “One painting a year,” is what he would always plan for. So far, we’d accumulated four from that collection and about ten from other art dealers around the world.
    I turned my head to address my brother, who was following right behind us. He looked so grown up, so tall and lanky, with bushy uncut hair and oversized basketball shorts. “Are you okay with being home alone tonight while Tey and I go on that double date we planned three weeks ago?”
    He rolled his eyes at me. “Of course, Annie. You guys go ahead and have fun. I’m dying to get back online and do some gaming.”
    I shook my head, smiled at Dante, and snaked my arm around his. “I guess we’re still on. We have a few hours to chill before we have to get ready for dinner.”
     

     
    “THAT WAS SO good, Sparky,” Dante whispered in my ear as I sat enclosed between his legs in the large Jacuzzi in the middle of the bathroom suite. Above us, dusk had settled, slowly dimming the natural glow that came in through the skylight. The scent of lilacs and lilies filled the air, emanating from the many candles all around us.
    The soapy water had formed clusters of bubbles which gently touched our skin. Like the sea foam that gathered on the beaches of Thailand. I closed my eyes but only for a brief second. For the past five years, lingering in my thoughts proved to be a bad idea for me. Too many memories. Too many tears. Too many unanswered questions and unspoken words.
    “Hmm.” I leaned back into him so that my head rested on his chest. My hair was spread out upon his shoulders, bobbing up and down like seaweed in the water. He gently gathered it up in his hands and tilted my head sideways so that his lips could skim my face. “Glad to be of service, Mr. Leola.”
    His voice grew soft. “Whatever happened to the transplant candidate you’ve been taking care of? The twelve-year-old?”
    “Oh, Bryan?” I let out a deep sigh. “Not good. His body rejected the donated liver. He’s back on the waiting list.”
    He wound his arms around me. “I’m sorry, baby. I hate it when you have days like that.”
    “I know. It really makes you wonder where God is in all of this. How could children be allowed to suffer like that? And the parents! To see their pain, their helplessness, it’s just so heartbreaking.” In leaving me with that rosary, Jude had brought me back to God. Ironically, having Him in my life had helped me with all my losses.
    I heard a soft rustling sound coming from his throat. Dante had fallen asleep.
    “Tey?” I stroked his arm softly. “Tey? Are you okay?”
    “Oh. Sorry.” He twitched in surprise. “This medicine is just making me so drowsy.”
    “What medicine? What’s wrong?” I sat up and turned to face him.
    “Nothing, just the new headache meds I have. The pain was unbearable last night so I took one this morning,” he explained. “I’m going to sleep it off before we leave for our hot date tonight.”
    “I’m worried about you. Those headaches. We should probably see Afihsa sometime this week.” She was a close friend from medical school who was specializing in neurology. “I spoke to her about them a few weeks ago and she suggested that we take some tests.”
    “They’re just stress headaches, I’m sure of that. Where have you been for the last ten years? I always have headaches,” he said in jest.
    “It’s that job of yours. You need to slow down a bit.” I placed my fingers on his temples and started to rub them lightly. “Look at you. You’ve also lost quite a bit of weight.”
    “No, no. I’m fine. I’m not going to work this weekend so we can just relax and take it easy.” He restlessly drummed his fingers on the edge of the tub.
    “Not good enough, Leola. Promise me you’re going to meet me this week at the hospital. We’re going to get those tests done,