Until Death Read online

  Ana startled him by speaking again. "’The Song of the Dawn’ will be in the morning as if she'd died overnight. We normally wait for two days, but her funeral will be tomorrow afternoon. Will you be ready?"

  "As I can be," Leo said. "Do I need to bring anything?"

  Ana turned her notes so Leo could see them. She'd written neat English translations below her scrawling Romanian.

  "You already have her clothing ready," she said. "And we'll have the bread for her journey." She tapped one line with her pen. "Would you like me to bring the pălincă?"

  "Pălincă?" Leo blinked, certain he'd misunderstood, but that same word was written on the page. "Why the hell would I bring alcohol? That's what killed her."

  "No, not to drink, not for us," she said, patting Leo's hand. "This is to bury with her. A very old family and village tradition."

  "No," Leo said, shaking his head. "I won't do that."

  Everyone in the room started talking to each other in quiet Romanian, except for Igor. He only stared at Leo.

  "This is part of what they insist on, especially since they could not watch the body," Ana said, glancing at the three women. All of them crossed themselves repeatedly. "Everyone buried in the village has the same."

  "That's too damned bad," Leo said, pushing his chair back. The metal legs screeched on the stone floor. "She killed herself with booze, Ana. You know that. I'm not putting her into the ground with it. No."

  She stood when he did, grasping his forearm before speaking to the others in the room. Leo didn't bother trying to catch any of her words. It didn't matter. He took a deep breath, forcing his brain to slow down enough to drag a few words of Romanian out of cold storage.

  "Thank you for your time," he said. "I apologize for causing trouble, but I won't agree..."

  The horrified look in his mother-in-law's eyes ground his words, and his mind, to a halt. Maria hadn't spoken to her for several years after some kind of fight. She'd never told Leo the reason, but he didn't want to hurt his mother-in-law any more than losing her only child had. Whatever he had to do to put a stop to this nonsense, he'd do without dragging Maria's mother through anything more.

  Leo turned and walked out. Ana kept pace with two steps for every one of his. An ancient mama dog lay on the black stones in the middle of the courtyard, only her eyes following them.

  "Leo, please, it will all be okay."

  "Look, I know you're trying to help, Ana. I couldn't get through any of this without you. But you didn't see her at the end." He felt himself running out of breath as his words went faster, and he couldn't do a damned thing to stop it. "You didn't see her waste away and bloat up at the same time. You didn't see her eyes and her skin turn yellow. You didn't see the liver spots. Liver spots, and she wasn't even fifty fucking years old! My wife killed herself with that stuff, and I won't put her under the ground with that same shit!"

  Leo winced at the sound of his own voice echoing off the four walls around them. The dog raised her head. No one else had come out, but he was quite sure they could hear.

  "I'm sorry, Ana," he said, meaning to step toward her. "I just want this to be over."

  He staggered, maybe tripping on a ridge of stone. Maybe losing the strength in his legs. Ana caught him and held tight. Leo let out a groaning, painful breath he'd been holding for days, a breath made more of tears than air.

  He was terrified he'd never draw another.

  He was terrified he'd keep breathing after all.

  "No, I'm the one who's sorry," Ana whispered close to his ear. "You're here all alone without your Maria, and I'm letting them put you through all of this."

  "She can't be gone," Leo whispered, forcing the words through his throat. "I can't breathe without her."

  "Your heart will keep beating even when it's shattered, my friend. All our hearts keep beating. You don't believe me now, and you don't have to, but finally someday you'll notice you feel a tiny bit better."

  Chapter 17

  Silence was good.

  Silence was what she'd needed for months. Years, really. If everything would just stop moving and shifting around her, she would sleep for years now. Maybe then she'd wake up and everything would be normal again.

  Still.

  Be still!

  She couldn't quite find her way to her voice, and the motion never stopped. Maybe Leo could help her, at least keep her warm so the changes and adjustments wouldn't be so awful. She couldn't remember ever being so cold.

  Leo had to be close by, she could almost feel him. Not quite smell or hear, but the same echo of her soul and his that she'd felt for half her life.

  Almost.

  But that wasn't good enough.

  She tried to get close to him, to find that connection. The space inside where she fit.

  Something wasn't right. Like one lone flute out of tune in a massive orchestra, some small thing was out of place. The size didn't matter, not here. One thing off kept everything from working.

  Heat rose up in her, warmth that was uncomfortable and angry and too big to stay in one place, even if she wanted it to. The heat was orange, red, tinged with black.

  For the first time in her life, a warm thing leaving her felt better than clutching at it for all she was worth.

  The movement continued no matter how she wished it to stop, willed it, demanded it. Pushing the hot energy out, finding more and more places to send it to, helped more than she thought it would.

  Cool moved in, even though calm did not. That was good enough for now. She would find Leo and be safe again.

  Chapter 18

  Four days ago

  A slamming car door jerked Leo out of a fitful sleep, stiff muscles making him wonder where he was for several seconds. Outside, cool and damp in the early evening, sprawled awkwardly on a wooden swing. Someone closed a sliding door on a van in the gravel driveway beside him.

  He finally recognized the neat yard when he heard Costel's deep, booming voice. The tall, rangy man passed right by Leo as he talked to the driver. A smaller figure carrying a travel bag started toward the inn, then detoured into the yard.

  "How you doing, big brother?"

  Leo smiled, the first time in longer than he could remember it being true and honest.

  "Better now that you're here, Bri."

  Brian dropped the bag and met Leo in a hug hard enough to crack his spine.

  "You're covered with dew," Brian said. "What are you doing, sleeping out here?"

  "Fell asleep waiting on you." Leo grabbed the bag and both men started toward the inn. "You hungry?"

  "Too jetlagged to eat," Brian said. "Don't tell Mom, she'll think I'm...never mind. That reminds me, they both send their best, wish they could make it. You know the routine. I'll make up for skipping dinner in the morning."

  "Costel would be happy to stuff you senseless," Leo said. "Mom would be relieved to know there's always more than enough to eat around here. Maria...we both used to bitch about gaining weight after every trip."

  Brian stopped and put a hand on Leo's shoulder. They shared the same wavy brown hair. Leo's normally corporate neat, but at the moment it brushed his collar like his kid brother's always had. The same light brown eyes looked into his from their mother's round face rather than the long features of their father that Leo saw in the mirror.

  "Over the phone isn't good enough for this," Brian said. "I'm so sorry, man. This isn't fair."

  "No, it's not," Leo said. "I appreciate you bringing her more than you know. She would too."

  They walked up the steep, black stone staircase together. Leo opened the third door on the left with the key Costel had given him before he fell asleep. The rustic room seemed larger than his with only the single bed, and sheer curtains floated in the breeze from the open balcony door.

  "No one on either side of you," Leo said. "So you'll be able to get some sleep if you didn't on the plane. The firm got you first class, didn't they?"

  Brian tossed the bag on the floor and sat heavily
on the bed.

  "Great service, shitty sleep. Not the airline's fault. I usually sleep like a baby on flights, even crammed into coach. Nothing but weird dreams this time, though. The whole plane seemed restless. I don't think anyone slept, ten thousand dollar seats or not."

  "Well, you'll make up for it tonight," Leo said. "Might want to close that balcony door before you crash. Don't want to invite Dracula in."

  Brian snorted before he leaned over to pull his tennis shoes off.

  "Maria might not be able to hear you," he said. "But from what I remember, her mother can still take you out. Soon as I brush my teeth, I'll be out too. See you in the morning."

  Leo closed the door and walked up the rough wooden stairs to his room, the one he'd shared with his wife on many previous visits. After seeing the space in Brian's room, his seemed even more cramped with the double bed, but he didn't mind. Masochistic or pathetic, he wanted everything the same. He stepped out onto the small balcony in time to see the van backing out of the long driveway.

  He'd made sure not to glance inside, and he was grateful to Brian for not saying anything about the cargo. He knew Maria was on her last trip. The van that brought her from Bucharest would take her a mile or so further on to the tiny, beautiful church, and tomorrow afternoon she'd be with her family.

  Her family that wasn't him.

  The van turned onto the main road and drove out of sight, but Leo stayed where he was.

  He didn't want to fight with Ana or anyone else over the damned booze in his wife's coffin, and he hoped he wouldn't have to. If he was careful, and quick, he'd get his way and everyone would rest easy believing the traditions had been followed.

  Leo went to bed himself, hoping this one night would let him rest easy as well. The rest of his life was time enough for nightmares.

  Chapter 19

  All was still at last. And yet there was no peace.

  She had no pain, none of the discomfort that she'd lived with for so long. But the longing was deep. The longing overwhelmed every part of her and worsened with every passing second.

  Leo was the key, as he had been and always would be.

  She pushed, strained, and she put herself into motion. Not hurtling, too fast and cold and out of control. She moved deliberately now. She felt him drawing her, pulling her near. Going to Leo was the easiest thing in a world grown far more easy.

  Staying away was the terrible effort.

  One place after another, no need to touch. What she needed was not there. But the faint light and warmth grew, and she continued on.

  A familiar space, one she knew as well as she knew her own shape and sound. A space she'd returned to many times.

  There. There!

  She drifted down, more gently than fog over the grass, and settled where she belonged more than anywhere else. This warmth and safety was all she ever needed, far more than crude air or water.

  Home at last, she slept.

  Chapter 20

  Three days ago

  The drifting, eerie sound of alpenhorns pulled Leo out of the deepest sleep he'd had for longer than he could remember. He knew those were for Maria, for her funeral later that day. The old women who'd been there for the arrangements would be singing “The Song of the Dawn” for her before much longer. The finality unnerved him even more than the doctor's words back in the hospice ward had.

  Some part of him, maybe his heart, had been lonely and cold since she moved out of their house to finish her slow suicide. He didn't think that would ever change as long as he lived, no matter what Ana said.

  That part felt safe and warm this morning even though he couldn't remember a single dream.

  He slid the door open and stepped out onto the balcony like he'd done every morning for so many years, every time they stayed in this inn. The sun was barely lighting the valley, but it was already warmer than during the night. A sharp temperature drop had overcome Leo's dislike of sleeping in a closed-in room.

  The chickens were stirring around even ahead of the rooster waking up or the girl coming out to take their eggs. Nothing else was moving yet except an old mama dog. Like she had the last few days, she paced around the yard, sitting for a few minutes, then moving to another spot. She didn't seem hurt, just restless. He hoped she was only feeling the chill from the night before and not getting sick with something. For the first time since he'd arrived, none of the other dogs were hanging around with her.

  Another door slid open, and Brian stepped out onto the balcony below wearing a pair of shorts and nothing else. He looked pale and too thin in the faint light. Leo was surprised to see a bald spot high on his brother's head, one he had no signs of himself, at least not yet. Lurking up here waiting for the younger man to scratch or fart would be a rotten way to start a difficult day.

  "Hope I didn't wake you," he said, trying not to wake anyone else. Brian hunched his shoulders and looked up, then smiled.

  "Shit, I didn't see you up there. No, I've been awake for a while. How do you sleep through all those dogs barking?"

  "I didn't hear a thing," Leo said, glancing out at the mama dog. "They usually say good morning, but not 'til a little later."

  "Well, they never shut up." Brian yawned, squeezing his eyes closed. "All night long. You must have been sleeping like the...like a rock. What time will breakfast be ready? I'm over that much of my jet lag."

  "Couple of hours," Leo said. "There's always stuff left over from yesterday. Meet me downstairs in five and I'll make you some coffee. Long day coming."

  Neither man spoke until both of them had finished their first cup, a lifelong habit and understanding. Leo watched his brother tear into the pastries, somehow better than what he got anywhere else even a day old. He wondered if he'd ever be here again to enjoy them. The thought of never coming back hurt, but he wasn't sure if returning by himself with Maria in the ground less than a mile away would be easier or harder.

  "All right, I may make it through the rest of the day now," Brian said, pouring more coffee for both of them. "Or at least until breakfast. What can I do to help you out today?"

  Leo rubbed his face with both hands and sighed, his coffee-scented breath hot against his skin.

  "Getting me away from here would probably be the kindest thing," he said. "Short of that, just make sure I don't make an asshole of myself."

  "I don't think anyone would blame you if you did," Brian said. "Seriously, let me know, okay? I've never been to a funeral here, but I've been to enough to get the general idea."

  "The only thing I may need help with is getting some time alone," Leo said. He finally knew how to deal with the pălincă in the coffin. "With her, I mean, right before the service. Chase everyone out and give me a few minutes, maybe?"

  "You got it, least I can do. Anything I need to watch out for at the funeral?"

  "Not really," Leo said. "It will be a lot longer than you expect, and we'll be standing the whole time. If it's like the other ones I've been to, they'll have a tree there, the one that was supposed to be linked to her. It has to die now too."

  Leo thought his voice was calm enough, but something about those words, about the tree being cut down the same way his wife was instead of growing tall and strong on the mountainside, twisted the knife all over again.

  Brian closed his eyes and let out his breath. Apparently Leo's voice hadn't been quite as calm as he thought. The young girl walked through the kitchen with her egg basket just then, rescuing him with her cheerful smile.

  "Sorry, enough questions from me," Brian said. "I'm not awake enough to keep my own foot out of my mouth. More coffee needed. I'll follow your lead, brother."

  Chapter 21

  Brian was as good as his word, staying at Leo's side after the endless funeral, stepping in to introduce himself whenever Maria's family got too upset. Or too close. Leo kept himself distracted watching his brother smiling and working the crowd even though he didn't know a single word of Romanian.

  So much like their mother at times like thi
s. Better than his big brother was, even after Leo’d spent the last twenty years working with ego-starved celebrities. He knew he wouldn't have made it through the day without Brian’s smooth, people-handling interference.

  Just as he'd expected, someone had tucked the required bottle of pălincă into the coffin beside his wife. Leo didn't have to ask Ana to suspect it had been Igor, the same one everyone had been seeking approval from when they made these arrangements. The man watched the coffin—and Leo—like some kind of predator throughout the hours of the funeral.

  Brian noticed the close observation without Leo saying a word. He recognized the person most likely to help on his own as well. He walked up with Ana as everyone else was at last filing out of the tiny stone church.

  "Is that guy some kind of hit man?" Brian said.

  "Never saw him before a couple of days ago," Leo said. "Haven't heard him say a word, but everyone pays attention to him. Is he the mayor or something?"

  "Igor was high up with the Soviets a long time ago," Ana said. "Not as formal as a mayor." She looked up and to the left, searching for the words. "Now he's more like a historian. He knows the history around here better than anyone teaching at school."

  "Leo wants a few minutes alone with her," Brian said to Ana. "Can you help me get Mr. History out of here?"

  Ana watched Leo for a few seconds, and he was sure she could see right through him. Not only his intentions, but the water-filled pălincă bottle in his coat pocket. He concentrated on staying calm.

  "Just a few," she finally said. "Maybe not minutes. Everyone's jumpy enough already, whether they believe in the old ways or not."

  She leaned forward and kissed Leo's cheek, then walked toward Igor. Brian raised his eyebrows.

  "Old ways?" Brian said.

  "No idea," Leo said, shrugging. "Appreciate the assist."

  "No worries, we'll do our best. See you out there."