Cicada Song

  Chapter 46

  Sara’s mind was numb. As Stan edged her toward Jake’s bed she found no words to say, no thoughts to think, nothing. Rachel looked on as they came, hope and youth long lost could now be seen in her tear-soaked eyes. Sara stopped suddenly and looked down at herself. She straightened her dress and checked her hair, but then Stan softly touched her hand and smiled.

  “You look great.”

  She nodded, and they slowly moved toward the foot of the bed. Then she saw him.

  He was still the pale, weak man who had been lying in that bed for seven years; but, whereas his eyes were often lifeless and dull, they were now aware and staring into hers. They were Jake’s eyes, the same eyes she remembered from their childhood; as she began to cry, those eyes became saddened by the sight of her tears.

  “Sara,” he said weakly. Though his voice was strained and broken, it was recognizably Jake’s.

  Her mind was overwhelmed and her body ran to him and took the hand he struggled to hold out for her. To feel the light pressure he applied was almost too much. She shook uncontrollably.

  “Sara,” he said again.

  “Jake,” she said in a voice that was barely audible. She could hear Stan crying over her shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much. I love you, Jake. I love you. I love you.” She kissed his warm hand over and over again before leaning in to hug him. “Thank you, God.”

  “Don’t—cry,” Jake said with a faint smile on his lips. She pulled away, and he simply stared at her. Releasing his mother’s hand, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of curls behind her ear. “Look—beautiful, Sara.” He took a breath and then tried again. “I—love—too.”

  She smiled and laughed briefly. “I love you.”

  He looked over her shoulder.

  “Stan,” he said and struggled to hold out a hand.

  Stan laughed and wiped the tears from his face before taking Jake’s hand.

  “Wet,” Jake said, and he laughed weakly.

  “Oh,” Stan said, pulling away and drying his hand on his shirt. “Sorry, Jake.” He took Jake’s hand again. “I’ve really missed you, man.”

  Jake looked back and forth between Sara and Stan. Then his eyebrows furrowed.

  “How long?” he muttered. He took another breath. “How long—gone?”

  Sara and Stan looked at one another, not sure how they should answer him, but it was Rachel who spoke next.

  “Before I say, dear, I want you to know that everything is going to be alright.”

  “How long?” Jake asked worriedly. Sara’s heart broke for him.

  “Seven years.”

  Jake’s eyes widened as he looked at his mother. He studied her, and Sara realized how different everything must look after seven years. He reached up and inquisitively touched a strand of Rachel’s gray hair. Then he studied Sara and Stan as tears formed in his eyes.

  “I so—sorry,” he said, and his face construed with the anguish of how long he had been gone.

  “No,” Stan said, urgently taking his hand. “No, Jake. I made you go into that forest. It was my fault. I was so stupid.”

  “No,” Jake said, a little stronger now. “Don’t blame—you.”

  “I can’t help it,” Stan said through tears.

  “No” Jake tried again, clearing his throat. “I—don’t blame—you.”

  Stan sobbed as he leaned in and hugged his best friend. “I love you, Jake. Everything fell apart after you left.”

  “I—here now.”

  “I know,” Stan said, wiping away his own tears. “I know you are. We’re together again. Phil’s here, too, but the doctor said we could only come in two at a time, but we’re all here.”

  Jake smiled and looked up at Sara. She held his stare and watched as his eyes slowly went to her hand. He took it and softly tugged her fingers toward his lips, but then he hesitated, studying the ring on her finger. His eyes narrowed with the recollection of a distant memory.

  “Mrs. Ramsey,” he said, and then he kissed her hand.

  Sara nodded. “Mr. Ramsey.”

  Then he looked up at Stan and asked, “Best—man?”

  “You know it, man.” He laughed. “Always.”

  Jake held out his arms and they both leaned in for a hug that had been sorely missed. All of life’s concerns, everything that had gone wrong over the past seven years, washed away from Sara’s mind. Jake was alive and awake, and he was with her again, even if it was for only a few hours a day. He could talk to her and listen when she needed an ear. When she held his hand he held hers back, and when she showed him emotion he would give it in return. She didn’t know how much longer she’d have him for, but every moment would count. She would marry him and love him with every fiber of her being until the very last breath left her lungs—and he would love her back.