Page 66 of Beauty and the Beard

He points to a loon off the bow of the boat and hands me the binoculars.

“Okay, so it doesn’t have red eyes.”

“That one found its mate.”

“Is that what I am? Your mate?”

I nuzzle into his neck and he gently pushes me away.

“You are until something happens to one of us. Loons don’t mate for life, but they’re monogamous when they find a mate. Sometimes they get pushed out by other males or one of the pair dies, but when they’re together for the season, they look out for each other. They move on when things change.”

“That’s kind of sad, Con.”

“I think it’s perfect. If something happens to one of them, why should the other get left behind and live its life alone?”

“They’re just birds.”

“They’re beautiful, smart birds and I think we can learn a little something from them. If something happened to you, I’d be like a loon. I’d hate to be without love again just because I lost one.”

If only I knew then I’d not grow old with Connor maybe I’d have listened to his loon facts and not teased him. Yet now I’m here without Connor and finally getting what he was trying to tell me then.

“I might have found love again. Another loon.” I chuckle to myself. “Well, he’s not a loon, but you know what I mean. Because I think I finally get it, Con. You’re right. Just like always. And I wanted to let you know because I always tell you everything. And it feels weird saying it out loud, but I think I’m in love. You’d like him. If you two met, I know you’d get into all kinds of trouble together.”

A group of ducks swims out from under the bridge and I watch them swim by. As they swim around the bend, a single loon pops up from under the water. Time stands still as I gape at it and it bobs in the water, staring back at me.

Loons don’t come here. They aren’t good on land and need islands where it’s harder for predators to get them. If you’ve ever seen a loon try to walk, you’d know why.

See, Con? I listened to some of your stuff!

“Con…”

I can’t believe I’m talking to a fucking loon in a public park, but it doesn’t move.

“Give me a sign if that’s you, babe.”

The loon bobs its head down once, twice, and my tears burst forth. This is impossible. My dead husband is not in the body of a loon.

But it’s here. Inhispark where they never go.

“I love you. And I’m going to love him too. I wanted you to know.”

The loon releases its well-known wail, much like a wolf howl that often signals to other loons where they are. The loon looks back towards the bridge when a loon call sounds in return. With a final moment staring at each other, it dives under the surface rather than swimming away.

I remain sitting on the bench for a long time, staring at the spot where the loon was and flipping through the photos Sasha left. It’s only when the light rain starts that I return to my truck to drive home.

And once I’m there, I take the first step back to the Leaf I used to know.

The great thing about owning this lodge is I can find a million things to occupy my mind and not think of Sasha every minute. At least during the daytime.

At night, it’s a different story.

It’s only been three days since I woke up to find Sasha had snuck out, but it feels like three years.

Today’s work also reminds me he’s gone.

Painfully so.

The internet installer stands from the corner with a smile.

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