The Fairy Tale

The Fairy Tale Begins
Sun In An Empty Room...painted by Edward Hopper

They sat in a shady corner across from the sunny wall that seemed to illuminate the entire room with glorious, golden color. This made them feel joyful beyond the happiness caused by the wonder of what was happening.  Their upraised plastic glasses filled with champagne, a sparkling gold celebration, which looked like they had picked it to mirror the sunlight and the golden beige walls.  

This room was to be their bedroom. Jake laughed a laugh that warmed her heart just like the sun was warming the wall opposite them. He reminded Jillian of the beautiful crystal champagne glasses, which were packed in a box marked “fragile”, waiting three floors below in the little rented truck they had parked near the door. To Jillian their marriage felt like a fairy tale. Jake was eight years older and would be able to shelter her in ways that a younger man could not.

Soon their buddies would arrive. Then the romance and solitude of newlyweds in their first home would change to a different kind of celebration filled with laughter and friendship.  Before long this pristine gold space would be filled with familiar things which would claim this apartment as their own.  The red carpet with the multicolored shapes would be on the floor. An overstuffed sofa and chair with carefully chosen pillows that matched the colors in the rug would lend warmth to the room.  The paintings Jillian had painted, with a blaze of colors as was her style, would adorn the walls. The dark little table and chairs would sit in the dining alcove with place mats, napkins and flowers ready for the gourmet meals that they had promised each other.  Most of these things had been combined from the furnishings of their separate apartments. The only new acquisition was the king sized four poster that soon would furnish the large bedroom with the sunny windows.  A cozy little chair would sit by the window for reading or just day dreaming there in the sunlight. A soft lemon colored comforter would welcome them, even on cold, cloudy, or rainy days.

Beer guzzled from bottles would replace the bubbly as their friends struggled up the stairs with boxes and furniture. Pizza would be the reward for an afternoon of grunting and shoving and dripping wet camaraderie. Could it already be three weeks since their wedding? The floor length, white wedding veil, the long, crimson bridesmaids’ gowns, and shiny black tuxedos, that they had teased each other about with words like “penguins” and “concert musicians”, are traded today for shorts and tank tops. Days on the beach where the sun was also even more golden than the reflected window sunlight are a happy memory for Jake and Jillian. They already have picked a spot on the fireplace mantel for their favorite wedding and honeymoon pictures.

Many hands make light work, and so was the case on this momentous afternoon.  Soon the only reflection from the window was cast from the lamppost across the street.  The furniture was in place; the pizza had been eaten, and the friends had gone down the stairs for the last time.  Jake and Jillian went up the steps after saying goodbye to the last departing helper.  Thirty steps to their little castle with the golden walls. The room will soon be aglow again…aglow with candles they will light for their first night in their first home.

The Fairy Tale Remembered

Jake and Jillian pulled out the photo albums filled with the many pictures they had collected throughout the years.  They looked at the one Jillian had labeled “#1.” It held pictures of their wedding and honeymoon. Because her memories were so vivid even after fifty years, she did not even need to view the pictures in this first album. Jillian thought about how most of life’s memories are stored in photos, but she could still see pictures in her mind and heart, not captured in photos but none the less immortalized in her memory. She pictured them on the train which was headed to the Cape Cod beach where they would begin their marriage in the August sun. She saw herself dancing with Jake to the music of waves that early morning when they had come down to the beach to watch the sunrise. Wonderful to reminisce.

They had come a long way, Jillian and Jake, and she was fully aware of it.  She picked up a photo album, one with a pink leather cover stuffed and stretched to capacity by the photos within.  She opened it and draped it across their knees. The first page held a picture of a dimpled little girl with huge brown eyes and pale golden hair lying in Jake‘s arms.  The look on Jake’s face told it all.  After all, it had been six years of praying and hoping before little Cindy had been born.  This baby was their miracle, and gave evidence to their love.  Her eyes mirrored Jillian’s, while her hair and dimples were reproduced from Jake’s handsome face.  The old couple laughed as they discussed the snapshots found in this album.

Half way through Cindy is pictured sitting on the porch of their new house as her little sister, Polly, was coming home to join them. They did not have to wait as long for Polly as they had for Cindy.  Polly had auburn hair and green eyes.  Jake and Jillian had always wondered what distant branch in their family tree had brought such loveliness to their second child.  It was as if, after the birth of each of their children, the mold had gotten destroyed. People always commented on how different each of them was from all the others.

Now Jillian picked up the blue album. Two years later Tommy and Simon arrived with their dark hair and hazel eyes…the only two who looked alike. They were twins, so this was not very surprising. Pulling open the green album they saw the life of the last child spread before them. Finishing the line, last but not least, was little Margery with her carrot red corkscrew curls and brown eyes.  Their home had filled up with joy, laughter, and activity as the children grew.

There were other albums that were opened and viewed.  These albums held pictures of vacations, pictures of children’s sports, and pictures of the three houses where they had lived along the way.  Jillian looked around her gorgeous living room with the view and once again felt blessed. Jake had done well in his life.  His company was still flourishing even after his retirement. Under the leadership of Simon and Tommy who had taken over a couple of years earlier his legacy still thrived. Best of all, when the two J’s, as Simon had laughingly shortened their names to still loved each other with a love that seemed to be magical in spite of the ravishes of advancing age.

Yes, the stars had shined on Jake and Jillian.  However life had not always been flawless. To Jillian the saddest picture in one of the albums was the photo of only four of their children taken on a fall trip to New Hampshire the year after Cindy had had her accident.  This was the most tragic memory of their fifty years. Jillian’s contemplation of this blot on what had been mostly perfection turned philosophical.  She knew that no matter how protected and safe one may feel  in life there is no such thing as absolute security. She had taken refuge in the sanctuary that Jake had created for her and enjoyed her life.  “Life happens no matter what,” she was thinking.  She turned to look at Jake who was sitting beside her with a distant look in his eyes.  He had picked up Album #1 again and was looking at a picture of them sitting in that first sun-filled empty room.  “Who is that?” a confused Jake asked Jillian pointing to himself in the long ago picture. 

Jillian got up and walked to the window.  She did not want Jake to see her pain.  After a moment she turned around with a smile on her face and looked at Jake. “He is the hero of my favorite fairy tale,” Jillian answered. She came over to where he was sitting and sat down. She took his hand in hers and held it tightly, hoping that if she held it tight enough she could slow down the ending of the fairy tale.

©Corinne Mustafa

                                         2/14/10