Beyond Believing Page 3

  “Son, Christine seems like a very lovely gal,” my da says.

  “Aye, easy to fall in love with,” I reply.

  “Is she the one?”

  “Aye, I plan to propose to her in a couple weeks when I graduate.”

  “That’s wonderful. I hope you plan to ask her father for her hand in marriage?”

  “Most certainly,” I respond.

  “Brilliant. I suspected we might be having this conversation, so I came prepared. Since you are the eldest grandson, you are the heir to my mother’s wedding ring,” he says as he pulls it out of his pocket. It’s very simple but elegant, a woven silver band with crushed diamonds.

  “Aye, Da, it’s glorious. She’ll love it. Oh, and please don’t tell mum.”

  “Are you kidding? She’ll start naming the grandchildren. No, I will let ye surprise her when yer ready. She’ll be thrilled. What are yer plans? Where will ye live?”

  “Benoit has offered me a full-time job as chef once I graduate. We’d love to live here until we get on our feet if that’s okay with ye and mum?”

  “Of course, ye stay as long as ye need.”

  #

  Christine has traveled with me to all the European spring food festivals but this weekend is different. She thinks we’re going to a festival in Montpellier, France but instead I plan to propose. I want to get out of the city so I made a reservation at a sweet bed and breakfast along the coast. I called her parents in plenty of time to ask their permission for her hand in marriage and they are thrilled which is comforting. I’m struggling to act normal through all my nerves and excitement. As we pull up to the bed and breakfast, I see the look of bewilderment in her eyes.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “The festival doesn’t start until tomorrow so I thought I’d surprise ye for yer graduation. I thought it would be nice to go out tonight to celebrate.”

  “Oh, you are so thoughtful, thank you,” she says, reaching over to kiss me. It’s getting close to sunset so we get checked in and grab a bottle of champagne, two glasses and head down to the beach. I lay out the blanket, open the champagne and pour us two glasses.

  “This is so sweet and romantic, thank you,” Christine says.

  “Yer welcome, darling.”

  “What did I do to deserve you?”

  I turn toward her and get down on one knee.

  “No, I am truly the lucky one. I fell in love with ye the moment I saw ye in that restaurant. Yer smile lights up even the brightest of rooms. Your heart is overflowing with love and compassion. The world is a much more beautiful place when I see it through your exquisite eyes. Yer love for your friends and family inspires me with every story ye tell. I will love ye forever with all my heart and want to spend the rest of my life with ye. So, Mary Christine Frances, will ye marry me?”

  She erupts in tears. “Yes! Yes! Of course!”

  We waste no time and head back to the inn to make our phone calls. The first is to Mac then both sets of parents. I thought my mum was going to explode; she was so excited. Christine tried to call Dan but she hasn’t been able to get a hold of him.

  Chapter Three

  (Olivia)

  As the weeks and months pass by, my only goal is being the best friend I can to those I treasure the most. I will never, ever allow myself to get lazy or take anyone for granted again. I know how precious life is and how quickly it can end. I’m very cautious about sharing my Dan connection with people. I’m an absolute believer and don’t want anyone to judge or taint what we have. After all, there are no coincidences. He is the first and last person I speak to every day. I keep a journal of all the prayer requests and the answers he sends. I try to put the puzzle together piece by piece to see if I can determine where Dan is leading me but, of course, it’s impossible. I have to learn one step at a time, one lesson at a time. I focus and believe, hope, and trust in his guidance. After all, the journey is a process, not an actual destination.

  #

  My career is finally on the right track. I’m working as a consultant for a small startup technology strategy firm in San Francisco called Blue Fish. My clients are all over the country, so I’m on the road four days a week and work remotely on Fridays. It’s challenging which keeps my mind occupied, and I’m learning a ton. Most of the time I feel like I’m living in an alternate universe. New places and new faces in constant rotation. Nothing is familiar or comfortable, just different. We work long, crazy hours but my colleagues are fantastic; so, I’m having a lot of fun, too, but I am always focused on getting back to Chicago on weekends.

  My Saturday morning ritual is to go to the cemetery to visit Dan. I know he can hear me from anywhere, but I feel so connected to him here.

  Red is the principal at a school around the corner. She goes in on Saturdays to get caught up, so we meet for coffee, but today we’re having lunch and doing some shopping. My older sister Jane just got engaged, and I need an outfit for their engagement party.

  I get to the restaurant first, and the hostess shows me to a table. As I sit down, I get a text from Red.

  Got stuck behind a train, be there in 10.

  OK. Here. People watching. Super entertaining.

  One of my favorite past times is to observe people interacting and then I make up their backstory. My dream is to write a screenplay and have it made into a movie. I have my bachelor’s degree in communication. My personal combination of strong emotional intelligence, limitless ambition, and an active mind makes a solid formula for great imagination. Almost like improv. I keep a journal in my purse to jot down ideas for characters and storylines. Interest has severely dulled since Dan’s passing, so I’m in search of something new to spark creativity and inspiration.

  Immersed in thought, I barely notice Red approach the table.

  “Liv,” she says as she greets me with a hug and kiss.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t see you walk in,” I say as I stand to hug her.

  “I’m watching that young couple over there. I’ve decided it’s a first Finder date. It looks grueling. The date is just out of earshot so I’m filling in my awkward dialogue like–”Your mom was my eighth-grade science teacher and my friends and I used to fantasize about her…”

  She snickers. “Well, sorry to interrupt. It sounds like it’s heating up,” she responds as she sits down. “Where are you coming from?”

  “The cemetery. Visiting Dan.”

  “Aww. That’s sweet. You should have told me. I would have met you there.”

  “You can join me any Saturday you like. It’s become a regular thing.”

  “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t want anyone to think I’ve lost it because fifty percent of the people I talk to on a regular basis are dead. But it comforts me to be there.”

  “I get that.” The waitress approaches the table to introduce herself and tell us about the daily specials. Red and I are regulars here. It’s a central meeting place for us, in between both of our houses. We try to get together weekly but it’s turning into monthly as of late. She has a boyfriend, whom I really like, but, naturally, she spends almost all her time with him when she isn’t working. If I had to guess, I’d say he’s the one. I expect at one of these lunches soon, she’ll be dangling a diamond in front of me while she asks me to be her maid of honor.

  Red orders the soup of the day and a spinach salad.

  “I’ll have the same please, and a glass of the house cabernet . . .no, please make that the bottle.” I need some liquid courage to share this.

  “I guess we’re having a liquid lunch,” she jokes.

  “Can I tell you something?” I look around to see who is within ear shot. I feel like I need to tell her in a crowded restaurant so she doesn’t have some crazy reaction and want to admit me to a mental hospital. The restaurant is crowded and somewhat noisy, but we’re tucked away in a corner booth back near the kitchen.

  “Of course,” s
he says as I grab a piece of bread from the basket on the table and start ripping it apart nervously.

  “Promise you won’t think I’m crazy?”

  “Well, I don’t know what you’re about to say, but I’m sure I won’t.”

  “Do you think there’s any way to communicate with people on the other side? In heaven?”

  “What do you mean?”.

  “Have you heard of psychics and mediums? They seem to be the ‘in thing’ nowadays. There are even a couple that have reality shows where they stop random people to give them messages from their loved ones from the beyond.”

  “Yeah, I’ve seen them. I’ve never put much stock in it. It could definitely be staged for ratings,” she says just as the waitress returns with our bottle of wine. Oh, thank God. Finishing my thought might be a huge mistake but I need to share it with someone, and if not Red than who? It’s too late to turn back now.

  “I don’t know. I can’t explain it. There’s never been anyone I would want to communicate with until now. I mean, of course I pray for my grandparents and hope they’re watching over me, but this is different. I need to find a way to communicate with Dan. To know he’s okay and with us.”

  “Okay . . . ?” She’s trying not to sound like a skeptic.

  “So, hear me out. I’ve had some weird things happen. You could say coincidences, but I think it’s more than that.”

  “Like what?”

  “A couple days after he died I was going through boxes of my memorabilia and I found this postcard he sent me back in college which I have been carrying with me ever since.” I hand it over the table to her.

  “Liv, this is—this is crazy. Look at the name of the song he is referencing—’If I Die Sudden.’

  “I know. It took my breath away.”

  “Liv . . . I just got chills.” Red’s eyes fill up with tears.

  “What are the chances? I mean, really? That I would have something in writing from him that would not only reference a Mellencamp song, but the title of it almost predicting his fate?”

  “Speechless,” she says with a stunned reaction.

  “Even crazier? I asked him to try to communicate with me through music, to send me ‘Small Town’ anytime I needed to feel him with me. Remember the night at the bar after the funeral, as we were toasting to him, it came on?”

  “Yes. Okay, now you are creeping me out.”

  “I know it’s really hard to grasp but every ounce of my being believes it’s Dan trying to connect with me. Think about it. We were at the Lantern, the last place I ever saw him, toasting to his life and ‘Small Town’ starts playing, and after I just asked him for it. There is no way that’s a coincidence. Not a chance.”

  “Unbelievable.” She sits back in her chair in disbelief as a young man approaches the table.

  “Excuse me, ladies. Sorry to interrupt. I’m Daniel. I’m helping out your waitress this afternoon. She asked me to clarify if you want the dressing on your salad or on the side?”

  Dumbfounded, we reply almost mesmerized, “On . . . the . . . side.”

  “Okay . . . thank you,” he says awkwardly as he heads back to the kitchen.

  “SEE?” I burst. “This is exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Liv, this is overwhelming.”

  “If you didn’t know me better, you would think I paid that kid to come over here to prove my point.”

  “You’re right. This is beyond belief.”

  “Well, not so fast, there is a third thing, too.”

  “I don’t know if I can handle it,” she says, running her hand through her hair, trying to absorb everything I am telling her.

  “Leaving the cemetery today, I pulled up to the light behind a car with the license plate HUGS.”

  “Stop it. That’s insane.”

  “I know. I did some research on guardian angels and messages. The sources seem legitimate and it’s consistent across the board. From what I’ve read, it states angels communicate through symbols like songs, license plates, birds, butterflies, rainbows, feathers, pennies and meaningful numbers like birthdays or any double numbers like 11:11 or 4:44. It is not only that you see or hear these things but it’s about when. They are directing your attention to these things so you know they’re with you. Like today, leaving his grave site and seeing that license plate. How did my mind not only see it but register what it said? It happened in such a flash.”

  “Well, I’m not going to lie; in the beginning, I was skeptical but you just made me a believer,” she says as the waitress arrives with our food. Still stunned from our Dan interruption, I say.

  “Okay, well, I’m only sharing this with you. So, can we please keep it our secret?” Our food arrives. I went from starving to nauseous back to starving.

  “Your secret is safe with me and, Liv, I really do hope it is true for you. Now, speaking of signs. I have something I want to share with you.”

  “Oh no, did you just tape all of that? Is this an intervention?”

  Red laughs. “That comment is the perfect segue to what I want to show you.” She slides her phone across the table with the Second City home page displayed.

  “What’s this?”

  “The Second City.”

  “I see that but why are you showing it to me?”

  “Do you know they teach improv and creative writing classes?”

  “I guess so. I’ve never actually given it a thought.”

  “Well, there’s a session starting next week. I came here determined to get you to sign up. You’re the one that led with all the Dan signs. This is most certainly another one.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “A lady in my school district is in their improv class. She can’t say enough about it. It prompted me to research to see if they had a similar course track for writers. So, I did, and they do. What are the chances I researched today, and they have a session starting next week?”

  “Nice try but not interested,” I reply, dismissively.

  “Why? Your dream is to write, isn’t it?”

  “Well yes, but dreams are just that, dreams.”

  “Not for you, Liv. This has your name written all over it. They have Saturday classes. They won’t interfere with your work travel. It’s a year-long program with five different levels. This is your chance to learn from the best in the business. Sharpen your skills.”

  My mind starts spinning, overcome with emotion. Dan’s accident caused me to have a new view of the world through a dirty lens. I’m methodical and calculated in every decision I make. I need to maintain control. This way I can keep people at a distance. Protect myself from getting hurt. I’m not ready to fill the permanent gaping void. The physical pain is all I have left of him. It’s a constant ache, but it’s better than feeling nothing. The pain is a perpetual reminder of what we had, and I won’t ever let that go.

  “You’re springing this on me. It’s a commitment. I need to think about it. How much does it cost, anyway?”

  “I don’t know. Put a price tag on your dream becoming a reality. I’d say it’s worth a few hundred dollars’ investment. One session won’t be more than what you’ll spend today on your outfit today for Jane’s engagement party. What’s there to think about? I walked in, and you were building a scene with two random strangers across the restaurant just to pass the time. Then you told me how Dan is communicating with you—hello? You were made to do this, Liv. Where is that spontaneous girl I could never contain?”

  Red continues, “I’m not going to lie Liv; I do worry about you.”

  “Why?” I’m defensive.

  “Dan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Yes, we’re changed, forever. Dan’s death rocked us to the core, but it’s even deeper for you. Your inner light doesn’t shine anymore.” Red’s eyes well with tears. “I miss you, Liv. The funny, happy go lucky, carefree Liv. The one who loves life, who makes all of us laugh and fills us up
with love and joy. I feel like his death stole you too, and I refuse to accept it. You need to start living again, if not for you then for me.”

  The waitress keeps walking by to give us the stare down to wrap it up so she can seat another table when she spots the tears running down my face. Red is right, but I’m paralyzed. Life as I knew it, ended. I’m a different version of me. A more cautious, skeptical me which I realize is the thief of joy, love, and laughter.

  I whimper, “I am so sorry. I know I’m lost but had no idea of the impact on you. And you’re right; it’s time. You know what I miss most, Red?” I say as I wipe away my tears.

  “What?”

  “The laughter.”

  “Oh Liv, me too, but I miss you making me laugh,” she laments as she grabs my hand. “This can be the first step back to who you’ve always been.”

  “Okay.” I grab her phone and select the sign-up button to make it official. “Now there’s only one major problem left.”

  “Oh no, what?”

  “Now I need to buy a creative writing wardrobe. I can’t catapult into stardom wearing this.”

  “Annnnd, she’s back. Now stay.” Red laughs as we pay the bill and head to the mall.

  #

  Get ahold of yourself. I take a deep breath as I step through the giant double glass doors into the Second City Training Academy, the fantasy world of all things comedy. Even better than what I imagined. I get in line to check-in behind the dozens of others, and just soak in my surroundings. The classrooms carved out for the Academy are adjacent to the four Second City stages bustling with actors coming in for rehearsal. Surreal. As I almost experience sensory overload, my eyes dart to the twenty-foot lofted ceilings with walls of exposed brick lined with photo after photo of all the classics: Gilda Radner, John Belushi, Chris Farley, Steve Carell and Will Farrell. Lost in my thoughts, I’m interrupted by the receptionist greeting me.

  “Hi. Welcome. What class are you here for?”

  “I’m here for the Creative Writing Level One course. My name is Olivia Henry,” I say as she thumbs through her class roster.