LIKE A BIRD TO A CALL
Girls, marriage is something you commit to for life till your final breath with the one you love. Theres no sense wandering endlessly through the world, searching for your soulmate. Youll just end up a nibbled apple, with nothing left to offer.
A married man is strictly forbidden. Dont even let yourself imagine a fling thinking youll have a bit of romance and then move on unscathed. Youll both plummet headfirst into ruin. Happiness built on deceit will carry you nowhere.
My parents have been together for fifty years. Theyre my shining example. Ive always said to my friends that Id find my own destiny like that, and guard it with my life. It was my grandmothers wisdom that shaped my thinking whatever she said, I took as gospel.
My mates always chuckled:
Dont be ridiculous, Katie. Wait until you fall for a married one lets see how heartily you give him up then
I never told the girls that Mum had my older sister, Mary, out of wedlock. It was a scandal that hung over the entire village. Five years later, I was born, but by then, Mum was properly married. Dad fell hopelessly in love with Mum, and together, they faced everything side by side. They had to leave the village, but that was that. So all my youth, I promised myself no children out of wedlock, no married men.
But fate had its own plans for me
Mary and I never really saw eye to eye. Shes always believed our parents adored me more than her, and is endlessly jealous. Its like there was a silent rivalry between us who could earn more love from Mum and Dad. Daft, really.
I met George at the club. He was a cadet, I was a nurse. The dance floor was alive that night, and we fell for each other at once. A month later, we were married, brimming with happiness. I followed George as eagerly as a bird to a call.
After George graduated from the military academy, we moved to his posting, far away from my childhood home. Naturally, it wasnt long until misunderstandings and rows cropped up. No one to confide in, no shoulder to cry on back home; Mum was living abroad by then.
Our daughter, Annie, was born in the midst of the wild, uncertain 90s. Nothing seemed stable. George left the army and quickly took to drink. At first, I pitied him, comforted him, telling him, Everything will be alright just hang on.
George would nod half-heartedly:
Katie, I know what youre saying, but I cant stop. I drink and suddenly everythings rosy.
After that, George began slipping awaysometimes gone for a day, sometimes for a week. Once, he was gone a whole month, and then just breezed back in, putting a briefcase packed with wads of fifty-pound notes on the table.
Where did this come from? I asked, already uneasy.
What does it matter, Katie? Spend it. Ill bring more, George said, proud as punch.
I squirreled away that briefcase, wanting nothing to do with it. Never took a penny.
Soon enough, George was gone againa full six months this time. When he returned, he was gaunt, worn, angry, and his stare was chillingly empty.
Katie, hand over your gold trinkets. I owe money to serious people, he said, eyes cold and low.
What? Those trinkets were gifts from my parents. I wont give them up, not for anything. Whats going on, George? Youve got a family, remember? My voice was shaking, nearly shouting.
Stop shrieking! Theres business you cant walk away from Will you help me or not? he demanded, drawing closer.
Afraid, I darted to the kitchen and brought him the briefcase.
Take your fortune. Annie and I will manage somehow without it.
He opened the briefcase.
Did you touch it?
Not a penny. That moneys not for us.
Its not enough anyway, he sighed. Never mind. Ill think of something.
That night, George swept me into wild, reckless passion. I loved him dearly, forgave everything.
Next morning he was packing.
For long, George? I asked, searching his eyes.
No idea, Katie. Wait for me. He kissed me, then closed the door behind him.
I waited a year. Then two.
While working at the hospital, I caught the attention of a doctor. Michael was married, which gave me pause, and more than that with my life hanging in limbo, I didnt know what to do. I was married, but hadnt seen my husband for over two years. Not a word from Georgeno letters, no calls.
Christmas was drawing close. The air was full of the scent of clementines, busy preparations, cheerful trees and lights.
One evening, the doorbell rang. It was George.
I threw myself into his arms, kissing him madly.
At last, darling! Where have you been?
Hold on, Katie, he said, shifting uncomfortably. We need to get a divorce quickly. Ive had a son. I dont want him to grow up without a father.
I was stunned. My vision swam as the remnants of my love sputtered uselessly under the ashes. But perhaps it was inevitable. I didnt even blink.
Fine, George. They do say, You cant pour back spilled water. I wont hold you. After the holidays, well sort out the divorce. My life, flipped upside down, inside out.
Dont you want to see Annie? Shes at a friends. Ill bring her if you stay. Annie will now be fatherless too, I added, spite edging my words.
Sorry, cant. Ill give Annie a proper hug next time, George said, and left.
But next time never came. George never saw little Annie again. Our lives, once intertwined, drifted irrevocably apart.
Michael, the doctor, sensing my loneliness, swept me up in a vortex of excitement and affection. I stopped caring that he was marriedany rules faded away.
Michael knew just how to charm, and I couldnt resist. I was caught up in sweet infatuation. Our affair lasted three years. Finally, Michael asked me to marry him.
No, Michael. We cant build happiness on your wife and daughters tears. Our paths are different. My voice broke with emotion.
I managed, somehow, to put a stop to it. I had to transfer to another hospital, as they say, Out of sight, out of mind.
Then came William.
He was raising his son alone after his ex-wife started a new life elsewhere. He was a patient at my hospital, where our paths crossed.
William always teased and joked with me, and soon enough, that laughter blossomed into an irresistible love.
His son, Daniel, was seven, and my Annie was eight. It was as if fate had decided to finally smile on us. We managed, loved, and faced everything together. The children grew; troubles came and went. William and I had no secrets. I was lucky with my second husband. I treasure him more than anythinghe is my light.
Weve been married thirty years now.
Just recently, George phoned my mother:
I never met another woman quite like KatieNow, when I look back, I see the winding pathnot just mine, but Marys too, and Mums, and every woman carrying hope beneath her heart. I used to see destiny as a finish line, but Ive learned its a gentle unfolding, one imperfect choice at a time.
Sometimes, I catch William humming tunelessly in the kitchen, lighting up the morning. Annie calls from her own bustling life, her laughter bright as ever; Daniel visits with his children, arms flung around us, echoing the warmth I once feared had left me forever.
I think of Mary, of the rivalries and the hurts that time has softened. We meet for tea now, comfortable in our skins, both of us having traveled our share of hard miles. All the old judgmentswhats right, whats ruinhave blurred into forgiveness.
The voice of my grandmother lingers, wise and unwavering, yet I know now her truths were seeds meant to grow into my own. I teach Annieand her little onesnot just to wait for destiny, but to rise when it falters, to embrace love as it comes: complicated, tangled, real.
This is the life I kept, through storms and bright days, through heartbreak and healing. I am not a wasted apple. I am the whole treebranches scarred and sturdy, leaves reaching for light, and roots sunk deep in love that endures.
And when I rest my head at night, tucked close to William, I hear the soft call of happiness, familiar at lasta song I can finally answer with my own true voice.
