Chapter Sixty-four

THE ANDERCHRONICLES

By Me, Ellee

[WARNING: The following story has been rated FNF*]
*Fiction NOT Fact

“Good-bye My Love”

Good-bye my love, the poet said—in words far more eloquent than mine . . . Every good thing finally arrives at the end of its journey. . . and I . . . I hesitate to say it, but you and I, Ellee dear one, have now arrived at this time . . . yes this time, alas . . . of farewells. For you and for me, it is over and done; concluded and finished; ended and terminated, and now we must say
au revoir, auf Wiedersehen, ciao and adieu.”

Noooooooooooooooo! I gasped, choking on tears which had backed up in my throat while reading the letter Andy had left on my night stand. And, and . . . he wants to say good-bye? He wants me out of his life? Now? After everything?—after Springtime Magic? This letter just didn't make any sense. I couldn’t believe what those words written right there on that piece of paper were saying—the ones my eyes had seen and my brain had translated. It couldn’t be true! It just couldn’t!

Andy and I were on our way to Quogue that morning. He had said he wanted to show me something. Something important. Something which would change everything. Is this what he meant? Well . . . this definitely changed everything!

How cruel this twist of fate—like a well-honed blade burrowing through my heart to the very center of my core! Just recently I had been feeling secure in our relationship—and yet, ohhhhhh, it must have been only an illusion which my soul had seen, but my mind hadn’t. How, oh how would I ever make it through this final disappointment?

“Ellee, are you awake, yet?” the voice called out from the other side of my bedroom door as the knocking started. It was Andy.

“Yes, An-An-Andy, I’m awake.”

“Good, how long before you’re ready? I have our oatmeal cooking.”

Our oatmeal???? He had our oatmeal cooking? He had never referred to the oatmeal as ours. Ohhhh, I just didn’t understand. My heart was wrenching; I couldn’t speak.

“Ellee! . . . "

“Elleeeeee!” he called out again, but I couldn’t answer.

And I didn’t want to finish the letter either, so I laid it down and pulled on my robe I was soooo chilled, and began pacing around my room as tears stung at my eyes and overflowed to my cheeks. Why had I not seen this coming, I chided myself, picking the letter up again, not really wanting to read further, but knowing I must. It was at this moment Andy opened the door and said,

“Hey sleepy head, you didn’t go back to sleep, did you?”

But when he saw me standing there he said, “Oh! There you are!,” a smile breaking as he spoke. Then he noticed the letter in my hands.

“Well, I see you got the . . . bad news.” Two knuckles flew up to cover what I thought might be a snicker. Not only was he ending our relationship, but it amused him! His eyes widened, awaiting my reaction. But I was so stunned I couldn’t react. Finally he added,

“ . . . So . . . he dumped you . . .”

He, I said to myself, he? He who? . . . Him? The surprise I felt must have been evident in my eyes because he hurriedly added,

“Hey, sorry I opened your letter, but anytime a letter arrives from . . . Leonardo, forgive me, but I simply must open it to see what he’s up to.”

LEONARDO ?????? I gasped to myself. He’s the he— who dumped me?

I was just too astonished to make any response at all, so Andy came over to me, stooping a bit and squinting slightly in an effort to see what was going on. When he discovered the glistening moisture on my cheeks, his gaze flew to my eyes, while his fingers brushed at the tears. Then he said softly,

“Ellee, are you crying?” Then a little louder, after it became all too evident that I was, “you ARE !!!! You’re crying!” Then shouting, “OVER LEONARDO????!!! ELLEE!” Then at the very top of his voice, “you’re crying over that gawky, zit-faced kid with freckles???”

“NO,” I shouted back, “ I’m NOT crying over that gawky, zit-faced kid with freckles!!!!”

“Then WHO are you crying over?”

“I’m not crying over ANYONE!!!”

“Then why are your eyes red and your cheeks wet?”

“BECAUSE . . . because . . .”

“Yes . . . go on . . . because . . . WHAT?”

“Allergies!”

“Allergies???”

“Yes, DANG-IT, allergies—springtime allergies!”

“I didn’t know you had allergies!”

“I don’t, uhhhh . . . I mean, I DO. I mean now I do.”

“Why now?”

“I told you, it’s spring!”

“Oh!” He narrowed his eyes and stared purposefully at me for a few seconds, obviously not satisfied with my answer. After exploring my eyes and corresponding expression, he calmed down enough to say, “Okay, I think I understand.” And then each of his thumbs wiped away the dampness under an eye and caressed a reddened cheek. When at last he spoke he said,

“You obviously didn’t read the entire letter, Ellee, or you would have known it was Leonardo who dumped you, and not . . . well . . . whoever it was you were crying over.”

His eyes were twinkling like two blue gems, and then I noticed that same snicker trying to take control of his mouth, like it did before. And then he literally broke into laughter spitting out,

“Oh Ellee, go on, read it! It’s a real winner, and Leonardo even played the poet! Go on . . .”

I stared at him a minute while everything that had just happened sank in, thankful beyond measure the letter wasn't from him. Finally, I lifted the paper to eye level and read the whole thing out loud. Leonardo took three pages to explain why he had dumped me and for whom. It seems he had met a lovely girl named Mary Jane Cletus, and the two of them had become inseparable just after kissing on a dare, and their braces got locked. It took two oral surgeons and a locksmith to get them apart. And after the ordeal was over they decided they were hooked on each other, but there was just one thing standing in their way—me. So to make a long story less long, he dumped me. Then he ended the letter with a bit of poetry, which, he confessed, he wasn’t very good at. Andy and I agreed.

Good-bye My Love

Every good thing finally arrives
At the end of its journey
When no longer it thrives.

Tho tears will leave sorrow
And hearts will reel,
There will come a tomorrow
When all will heal.

So it’s good-bye my love
Yes, it’s time to go,
On the wing of a dove
Please don’t make it slow.

Your replacement is here,
Her name is Mary Jane.
She now is the fairest
And my heart she has claimed.

But Ellee, dear Ellee,
If it’s any consolation,
I really did think I loved you—sorry.
by Leonardo

“So, what do you think?” Andy asked, once we quit laughing.

My response, after a mock, pained look and a forlorn sigh was, “It’s the first Dear Jane letter I’ve ever received, Andy.”

Then he wrapped his arms around me and said,

“And . . . most assuredly, your last.”

Half an hour later, after eating our oatmeal together, we set out for Quogue.

Bye for now,
Love,
Ellee