Page 37 of Shifting Years (Whispering Hills #5)

Todd

I'll say this for the ladies. They were cryptic but never flashy with their powers.

One moment, I was in my cabin with Mike, then alone in a dark hospital hallway.

Sharp antiseptic drifted from individual rooms, along with the sickly-sweet scent of approaching death.

People I didn't know rotted alone in beds, while too few had the smell of life.

The soft scent of flowers—hers, always hers—drifted through the hallway, pulling me forward. My feet stayed frozen outside the door. A coward's hesitation. I told myself it was out of respect, but the truth? I didn't want to face what I'd set in motion. She wouldn't see the morning.

The darkened room enveloped me and if Donna sensed my arrival, she gave no sign. The older lady wasn't a surprise because I'd seen her over the years, always from a distance. Sometimes to make sure she and her husband were okay. Other times to whisper an apology nobody but me would hear.

As we helped Angel and her family, we did the same with Donna. Nonexistent relatives died, leaving her money. Connections and favors got who was once 'my girl' a job, and for her husband when needed. From what I saw, he was kind to her and treated Donna as his entire world.

She aged more than Mike and me, and the smooth-skinned girl with blonde hair was a wrinkled lady with slow breaths. Women weren't in the cards for me, but she was still so damn beautiful.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, voice barely holding together. "I tried. God, I tried."

Her ocean-blue eyes fluttered open. Her slow breaths quickened, and her silver hair shifted slightly, as though brushed by an unseen wind. I turned, sensing a hint of someone, but we were alone.

She continued breathing slowly as if testing something. "No pain." With momentary hesitation, she pulled needles attached to tubes out of her arms. Machines should have beeped with warnings but didn't.

Her lips parted in a silent 'wow,' eyes widening with wonder, then something deeper. A quiet grief. "I… know you. Everything! It's like I remember two lives at once."

Now it was my turn to be out of the loop.

She stood and looked up into my eyes. "Todd! My angel."

I shook my head no. "No. Never an angel. Devil maybe."

She repeated her words harder. " My angel." The old Donna didn't argue, but decades changed a person.

She lifted her arms with a ballerina's grace, laughing and crying all at once.

She stopped and wiped away my tears I didn't know had seeped out.

"Oh, my Todd. I wish I could have known you all these years, but it's too late for regrets, isn't it?

" She paused with a small smile. "I would have understood, eventually.

Maybe not the wolf part so soon, but love? Yes. Who couldn't understand that?"

Thank you, ladies.

"I did… do love you, just not in the way you deserved," I said.

Her tiny hand cupped my cheek and my throat clenched with decades' worth of raw, mixed emotion.

"How remarkable, this world."

"So, you know everything?"

"Probably not all, but a lot." She wiped away a tear and another. "I'm so sorry about Vietnam."

"Me too," I whispered.

"You stayed, Todd."

"Was that a good thing?"

She nodded. "You always wanted to protect people. I used to joke about a guardian angel, and I had one. Mystery cash, my husband's surprise job, scholarships for my children… they were all you." It wasn't a question and Mike had helped, but I nodded.

"Three children?" she asked.

"More or less."

"I have two, but it's very lonely. They're good kids, but they can't come every time I'm sick." She studied my face while leaning into me. "It was a happy life. Oh, Brian and I argued, but we had lovely years."

"Because he was a better man than I could have been."

"Enough," she said firmly, the weight of decades in her voice. "No more guilt."

"I hurt you."

"If you did, it's because you had to be you. My Todd and Mike's Todd." She stood tall. "I'm not hurting now, but I always felt better around you." She hesitated, her voice softer. "Will I see my Brian again?"

"I don't know. There's magic, but some things stay mysteries."

She nodded. "It's enough." Her voice cracked. "I know I missed you, even when I didn't know you existed." She paused. "I was proud of you then, and more now. What about me?"

I suppose, in the end, that's what matters: 'Did I live a good life?

' The new Donna might have stumbled at first, but she stood taller with every challenge.

Her fire burned brighter as the years went on, a beacon for others who needed her strength.

Like Mike, she embraced the fervor of the late sixties and kept it burning for decades.

Donna, who went along with everything before, became a leader.

She marched on Washington, supported the ERA, and formed counter-protests against Anita Bryant.

When other people were confused about gay couples or confident in their hate, she came to understand love faster than others.

Mike adored her for that, even if he couldn't personally thank her.

It was too late for wishes, but I could give thanks.

She lost her memory but never her spirit.

Like with Mike, we spoke without words. We knew each other's life and hearts. After a quick command to my phone, slow music from the summer of sixty-nine played. It was the kind two young people would have loved back then.

Her head rested against my chest, and a quiet laugh fluttered against my shirt.

A moment ago, she was frail, tethered to a bed.

Now? She spun, light as air, like the ballerina she once dreamed of being.

I led. She let me. For faster songs, we danced like teenagers.

With others, we moved slowly to the dreamy melody.

As the song faded, her steps faltered. I caught her gently as she slumped forward, her final breath warm against my chest. A soft smile shouldn't be on a corpse, but it was.

Tears streamed down my cheeks while I laid her back on the bed.

I never wanted to howl so badly in my life but kept quiet as I shook violently.

There were no spoken words and the promise was already made, etched into my bones. I'd watch over her children and their children. For as long as I had time left to give.

The bayou women didn't appear, but a thought came that wasn't mine.

She didn't die alone. She left this world cradled in the arms of someone who loved her. In the end, isn't that all we can hope for?

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