Pia Vorhees, a widow left with nothing but her husband's secret, unfinished manuscript, is confused. After Hugh's passing, Pia has faced a number of challenges to her ideas of what awaits people after death. The greatest challenge to her beliefs comes from the strange behavior of her granddaughter, Summer. Summer has always reminded Pia of Hugh. Throughout her young life, Summer has displayed idiosyncratic behaviors that are intimately similar to those of her late grandfather. These similarities become far too significant, however, when Summer wins the Nobel Prize in Literature for the book written by her grandfather-a book she should never have known about. Pia does not understand how Summer could have known about the manuscript that she had kept secret since Hugh passed two years before Summer was born. She becomes suspicious of Summer and questions her opinions on life, death, and identity. Could Summer be the reincarnation of Hugh, or could he be communicating with her from beyond the grave?
And When I Die
By Loni FriddleiUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2012 Loni Friddle
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4759-0598-4 Chapter One
Pia stared at the stage. The beautiful woman that she had been fixating on was changing. The image faded from a young blond girl to that of a middle-aged man. A man whom she was very familiar with and loved for most of her life. To Pia, it was like one of those clever drawings. When anybody first looked at it, they saw a young maiden. But if they concentrated hard enough, they saw an old woman. Or vice-versa. The drawings are ingenious and play with the brain. Perhaps, at first, they see the maiden. Then, knowing that they had been prompted to see something else, they focus. They lose sight of the silhouette of the maiden on the right side of the picture and see the silhouette of the old crone on the left side. But this was different. There was no left side and right side to this. Definitely, the young girl's face phased out and was replaced by Hugh's face. It was very surreal and yet so real. It couldn't be true. Pia leaned forward and kept her eyes riveted to the incarnation. No, it can't be. This is surely an apparition. Then, the image faded away slowly and once again Pia was focusing on Summer's face.
She became aware of Marla's frantic whispering, "Mom, are you all right? Mom, Mom, what are you staring at? Why did you grab my hand?"
Pia took another good look at the stage. Yes, it was indeed Summer sitting up there on the stage. Her beautiful Summer. Her beautiful and most talented granddaughter nominated for the Nobel prize. It was not Hugh up there. It was Summer here in Sweden. Pia slowly drew her eyes away from the stage and turned her head to look into Marla's eyes. She let up her grasp on Marla's hand and patted it instead.
"Yes, my dear. I'm alright. I guess I just got a little overwhelmed by all of this. Don't worry. I'll be fine. I wouldn't do anything to ruin this wonderful, spectacular evening."
Marla smiled and placed her other hand on top of Pia's. She leaned over to kiss her cheek. Settling back in her seat, she glanced over Pia's head to meet her husband's eyes. He, too, had seen what was going on and gave her a questioning look. She simply shrugged her shoulders.
Pia leaned back in her plush chair. She gazed around at all the important people surrounding her in the Stockholm Concert Hall. Men in tuxedos. Women in gowns. But Marla on her right side and Craig on her left were just as stunning as all these other people. Pia felt as if she were in a little cocoon and peering out at the world. She could not believe she was here. Here in Stockholm. She smiled as she smoothed down the noil silk on her leg. She had shopped forever to find the appropriate dress. A teal blue to match her eyes. Just a simple ankle length shift with a faux turtleneck. The dress was almost perfect because, although it was sleeveless, it came with a matching silk jacket. A jacket was necessary because Sweden's nights were a bit chilly – to say the least! And Pia didn't feel comfortable showing off the bit of flab on her arms that came with age. A double-strand pearl necklace with matching earrings completed her ensemble. Pia patted her hair very gently. It had been done by a local beautician. Usually, Pia combed her gray streaked tresses back into a ponytail. Occasionally, on special occasions, she braided it. But this beautician had done wondrous things. She had pulled back the fine, long hair into some kind of strange braid and piled it midway up Pia's head. Pia was very pleased with the results but she felt that any minute, the whole thing would come tumbling down.
Never in her life did she ever think she would be at this prestigious event. No, that was not true. It was another dream for another person a long time ago. She gazed at the stage again. The flowers that were banked on every possible free space of the platform were incredulous. They had been flown in from Italy. When Alfred Nobel was dying in Italy, he requested that the flowers for the awards ceremonies come from Italy. He must have been as fond of flowers as I am, thought Pia.
The royal family had already been seated while the orchestra played the Swedish national anthem. Pia found it amusing that, after they were seated, they whispered among themselves just as members of the audience were whispering among themselves. She wondered who was talking about whom. The orchestra switched to Mozart's March in D Minor when the laureates filed in and took their seats. They were arranged in the order in which they would receive their prizes. First was Physics, then Chemistry, then Physiology and Medicine, then Literature, then Economics. Summer appeared to Pia like a celestial star seated between the older men. She was a green nova in her sea green gown. The small diamond earrings that her parents had bestowed upon her after hearing about her nomination twinkled. Her soft blond hair that was piled on top of her head glittered under the shine of the lights. She was an angel, a heavenly body, a star and even a star, as in celebrity. Pia was so proud. Her heart was racing and that was when the image changed to Hugh's face. He, too, had been a star in her eyes- not only as a somewhat celebrity but also as a shining force in her life.
The audience hushed as the award ceremony was about to start. Pia couldn't help but fidget as she waited and waded through the speeches and the first three award presentations. They were interesting but..... Finally it was time for the literature award. Pia held her breath. Marla held her right hand and Craig held her left one.
"For her understanding of the world's reliance on myth, legend and religion, we grant the Nobel Prize in Literature to Summer Chura."
The whole audience stood up and applauded as Summer stepped up to receive her award from the king of Sweden. She bowed to the king and to the royal family and to the audience. Summer made the slightest eye contact with Pia and returned to her seat. Even though it was just a slight eye contact, it was the look. It was that same look that she had gotten from that child for as long as she could remember. It was a look that went deep into her soul.
Pia could definitely not contain her tears now. She huddled against her daughter's shoulder fumbling in her clutch bag for a Kleenex.
"Mom, you going to be all right?"
Pia straightened up and blew her nose.
You have one hell of a daughter there. Your father would be so proud. I just wish he was here."
"He is. You know that as well as I do."
"Yes, you know that I can't talk about it now. I'm too emotional with everything that is going on – both the ceremony and my own thoughts. Let's just sit through the rest of the ceremony, go get Summer, and then celebrate."
As they channeled out of the concert hall into the cool Stockholm evening, Pia looked around at the edifice. She had been so excited when she entered the building that she did not take time to gaze and gawk and enjoy the architecture. The columns were magnificent and the frieze work was grandiose. She wished that she had a camera with her. She had not brought one because, first of all, it would not fit into her tiny evening bag. And, Marla had reminded her that there would be plenty of photographers taking Summer's picture and taping the ceremony. They would be able to get all the pictures they wanted.
"Look at that statue, Marla! Who do you suppose it is?"
"That's a statue of Orpheus."
"Aha! The Greeks believed him to be one of the chief priests and musicians. He was said to have been the inventor of the lyre. How fitting that Orpheus be in front of the concert hall. But how did you know that it was Orpheus?"
"I do my homework, Mom. Now, come on and stop staring. People will think you're a tourist."
"I am a tourist. Can we come back tomorrow and take pictures?"
"Of course we can. Be careful down these steps."
The marble steps were broad and wide but Pia still lifted her skirt a little so she would not trip and make a fool of herself. Fortunately, the skirt had a slit halfway up the back so it gave her more ease in walking. Even though she was wearing the jacket, Pia still felt the chill in the air. The thin fabric just didn't hold up to forty-five degree temperatures or the slight breeze. She patted her hair. It was still in place. Thank goodness for lots of hair spray. She shivered and Craig put his arm around her.
"Mama Pia, you want to put my jacket around your shoulders?"
"No thank you, dear. I'm just so full of emotion and tingling all over. Let's go find Summer." Pia shivered again as she let her inner thoughts take over again. If only Hugh could have been here. He would certainly love this. He would love the dignity. He would love the ambience. He would love the occasion. He would love the whole affair, even if he had or had not won. But, maybe he was here. His aura was here. She saw his face in Summer's face. Who knows what the Gods have decided? Pia giggled to herself. Only the Shadow knows.
Chapter Two
The banquet was held in the Blue Hall of the Stockholm City Hall. Pia had never seen a city hall such as this. It stood alone on an island and was huge and magnificent. The Stockholm City Hall wasn't just a building of cubicles of offices where you got your driver's license and checked out data. It was famous worldwide for its art treasures. And how many city halls could contain fifteen hundred people in one room?
Pia had been to many special banquets in her lifetime but this was certainly the grandest. White linens covered the long tables. Even though there were so many people, the plates were real china, the silver was real sterling, and the glassware was real crystal. The gorgeous displays of flowers equaled those on the stage at the concert hall. Pia couldn't stop squeezing Summer's hand. Before they found their seats, they went out to the gallery and marveled at the view. Summer pointed up at the top of the tower of the City Hall. It was topped by three crowns. She explained that it was the emblem of Sweden. The bright lights of Stockholm twinkled across the waters that separated this island of Kungsholmen from the city. Strains from the organ were drifting outside so the four of them decided that they better go back in and be seated. However, they had to go get a glimpse of the organ. They were astounded at the number of pipes on it. A guest next to them remarked that it had 10,270 pipes and was the largest in Scandinavia. Pia wondered where there might be a bigger organ than this. She'd have to look it up when she got home.
In her chair, Pia thought about what she had read about the banquet. She knew that several chefs competed for the honor of creating the meal for this elegant event. This year, it was a French chef as it had been many times in the past. She was anxious to see what would be served but she didn't have to wait long. Soon waiters appeared to commence pouring a fine white wine. Following them were waiters with the first course. The chilled roasted salmon with a sorrel sauce was done to perfection. Pia could detect a hint of mint and rosemary in the sauce. And the presentation was so beautiful. The green sorrel sauce filled the bottom of the plate with the pink salmon atop it. The garnish was a sprig of rosemary surrounded by juniper berries With all the elegance of the surroundings and the flawlessness of the salmon, Pia couldn't help giggle and remark. "This is really yummy in my tummy! And I want to know why the Blue Room is red. "
Summer, Marla, and Craig burst out laughing. With all the solemnity of the event and elegance, her remark was definitely comic relief. Summer reached out and grabbed Pia's hand.
"GrandPi, you are something else! I love you."
Pia wasn't ready for the look but she got it. She squeezed Summer's hand. "My darling, you just don't know how proud I am of you."
"GrandPi, I am just as proud of you. You are a great inspiration to me. You know that don't you?"
Pia felt the tears welling again in her eyes. She quickly reached into her purse for more Kleenex. The servers were now rushing around picking up the salmon plates and pouring red wine into the alternate wine glasses. Pia withdrew her hand from Summer's and composed herself. It was a good thing because she soon had the second course set before her.
It was presented as well as the first course. Pia cut into the meat and took a bite. She smiled. The others did likewise. Craig was the first to question her.
"Okay, GrandPi. What kind of meat is this?"
"Can't you tell, Craig? I serve it all the time." Pia had a facetious tone to her voice.
"Well, it tastes kind of like steak but it also tastes kind of like venison."
"You are very close. Actually it's elk meat. Done up with a nice smooth lingon berry and red wine sauce. Elk is a traditional wild game meat in Sweden."
Marla winced at the mention of elk meat but Pia noticed that she had put another bite into her mouth. Pia took another look at her plate.
"And look at the veggies. They are so beautiful! The orange of the carrots, the red of the beets, the brown of the mushrooms, the white of the potatoes. And they are all slightly caramelized to bring out their sugars."
Summer was intrigued.
"How do you know so much about food, GrandPi?"
Pia laughed.
"Haven't you noticed the bulge in my midsection?"
"Mom, you are not fat by any degree." Marla interjected "You just like to cook and you enjoy food."
"Yes, I do. But let me give you a quote from a nineteenth century chef. His name was Antonin Careme.
'Dining has much in common with painting and music. The painter, by the richness of colors, produces works that seduce the eye and the imagination; the musician, by the combination of his notes, produces harmony and the sense of hearing receives the sweetest sensations that that melody can produce. Our culinary combinations are of the same nature. The gourmet's palate and sense of smell receive sensations similar to those of the connoisseurs of painting and music.'
I'm not sure if I have that quote exactly right but it's close. And I think that Mr. Careme left out another aspect. Literature also has a great effect on our senses just as painting and music and food."
Summer leaned over and put her arms around her grandmother.
"GrandPi, you know a lot, don't you?"
Pia grinned broadly.
"That I do! But it goes along with liking to learn, which our beautiful child, Summer, has accomplished."
Simultaneously, Marla, Craig, and Pia turned toward Summer and clapped their hands quietly in acknowledgement of her accomplishments. Summer bent her head in humbleness but her inquiring mind went into overdrive.
"GrandPi. What you just said. I couldn't help think about the relationship of the words. The quote referred to a gourmet's palate. But an artist uses a palette. Do you suppose there is an association between the two words?"
"I don't know, my dear. Your grandfather might have been able to tell you. He was such a wordsmith."
"No, I got it. It just came to me. A gourmet's palate is the range of flavors he tastes. An artist's palette, in addition to being his board of paints, is the range of colors he uses or is identified with. Flavors, colors. Some foods are more appetizing to us because of the colors. Look at this meal set before us. You remarked on the interplay of the colors of the veggies, GrandPi. So the palette becomes the palate. I'm sure the creative chefs of the world see the plate as a canvas and use their palettes of food to tantalize the palates of their clients."
"You love words, don't you, Summer? "
"Yes, I do, GrandPi. I know my grandfather did, too. That's why I'm here tonight."
Pia gasped but tried not to show it. She looked her granddaughter in the eye and spoke as calmly as possible. " What do you mean by that? That's whyyou're here tonight?"
"GrandPi! For heaven's sake. I've read all his works. I am a product of his genes. I have grown up in an environment of appreciating reading and writing. You know that."
"Yes, my child, I do know that."
Pia was very aware of all etiquette procedures but, nevertheless, she put her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Hugh should have been here, could have been here, but he died too early. Or was he here? Or is he here? Or was he here? Is Summer here because of him?
The second course plates were whisked away. Pia had hardly eaten any of hers. She had really been filled up by the first course and her mind was far away. She was also a slow eater. She liked to nibble fine food in between good conversations. There had been a good discourse going on between Marla, Craig, Summer, Pia and their adjoining diners. But Pia had totally enjoyed every bite she had eaten.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from And When I Dieby Loni Friddle Copyright © 2012 by Loni Friddle. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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