APRIL 1st, 1994, SEATTLE, WA

           IT WAS EARLY morning when Lindy's phone rang from outside of her bedroom. It roused her from sleep, causing her to lift her head tiredly and squint out her ajar bedroom door. The phone ringing had become a daily occurrence in her household. She had spent more time talking on the phone in the last two years than she had in her whole life.

She glanced at her bedside clock. The red, digital numbers told her that it was only eight-twenty-six in the morning. Not unnecessarily an odd time to be called when it seemed that everyone wanted to speak to Lindy at any given point in her day.

Groggily, she got out of bed and shut off the fan that she used at night to help her fall into slumber. These days, Lindy required the gentle whoosh of the fan blades to even guarantee herself a wink of sleep. Otherwise, she was up all night, her thoughts roaming into the darkest parts of her mind.

When she picked up the phone, she tried to sound alert, in case it was the hospital calling her. She was slated to work a shift later that day, but there was a chance that someone was calling her in the case of a schedule change.

"Hello?"

"Hey Lindy."

Kurt's voice, genial and pleasant, made Lindy nearly bounce off the floor in surprise. She had not been expecting a call from him, at least not so early in the day when she imagined that he would want to catch up on well-deserved rest. It didn't take her long to eventually relish in his greeting, being that she missed him after only a whole day apart.

"Kurt! You called!" she exclaimed, blinking her eyes rapidly until they refused to droop with exhaustion.

"Yeah, I know I didn't get to call yesterday. Frances and the nanny stopped by so I spent the majority of the day hanging out with them. She's coming again this morning, too."

"Kurt, that's wonderful," Lindy smiled, happy to hear that he had managed to spend quality time with Frances, even from a place where at heart, he didn't want to be.

"I'm really happy that I caught you. I thought you might be at work."

"Not until two. You got lucky."

"Yeah I did," Kurt replied distantly. He recovered before Lindy could ask if he was okay; in a matter of seconds, he had charged his voice with the same amiability from when Lindy had first answered the phone.

"I don't know what they've got planned for me today, so I wanted to call as soon as possible," Kurt explained.

"I'm glad you did. I don't mind starting my day off with the sound of your voice."

"Even if it's at eight-thirty morning?"

"Even then," Lindy chuckled, enjoying the well-rested nature of Kurt's over-the-phone demeanor. Barely any time had passed since he'd entered rehab, yet he was already starting to sound far better than before. The promise of his future health hung in the future, giving Lindy shreds of hope that she had not felt in months.

"Do you have your ring on?" Kurt asked.

Lindy lowered her eyes to her chest where sure enough, Kurt's engagement ring laid over her shirt. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how tacky she looked, sporting an engagement ring as a necklace. And not only that, she was risking the chance of losing it even more than if it had been on her finger. But it was a discreet promise made to Kurt — if he tried to get better, the ring would stay around her neck. And then soon enough, she'd wear it on her finger.

"I am. If it somehow falls off this chain, you can't be mad though."

"You won't lose it. I know you won't."

Kurt sounded so resolute that Lindy didn't even protest, hesitating to point out that it wouldn't have to be her direct involvement that could cause her to lose the diamond. There was no need for contradiction that morning. Not when Kurt's mood had turned so buoyant.

"I miss you already. I want to come visit you," Lindy said longingly.

"It's only a few more weeks. I wouldn't waste money on a plane ticket," Kurt volleyed back casually. Even behind the ease of his suggestion, Lindy could detect a hint of worry, as if her buying a plane ticket to California would somehow be bad.

"Are you worried about Courtney finding out?"

"She's the least of my worries. I'll be back soon, though. Sooner than you think."

Lindy frowned slightly. "But what if I can't wait? What if I need to see you in person, right now?"

"Why? Are you planning on breaking up with me?"

Kurt's jest was sarcastic, but once again disguised something behind the mask of words. There was a real fear, distinctly hidden under the impression of humor, that maybe Lindy really was going to announce that she was leaving him.

"That's not it at all. Far from it. But I guess I can wait, if you say so."

"I just want to enjoy the last image I have of you for a little bit."

Lindy knew what Kurt was referring to — he was thinking back to the night she had dropped him off at the airport, when she had sat in her car and stared up at him with eyes so full of love that they could have broken any heart. She personally did not think she had looked good that night, wearing a giant zip-up jacket and letting her hair hang messily around her face. It had been ages since she had cut it — it was nearing growth past her elbows. But this was not the reason she fixed herself so readily on Kurt's proclamation.

"It's not the last," she laughed, hiding the nervous bleat in her voice. All she needed was for Kurt to agree. To steer the conversation back to happiness and promise, away from worry and fear.

"No. I guess it's not, is it?"

It wasn't quite the answer she wanted, but Lindy accepted it anyways. He was going through a tough time. She would allow this one instance of ambiguity.

"When you come back, we'll throw a little 'welcome home' party. Maybe I'll even invite Trae. Then you can finally meet Hannah. And we can celebrate."

"I'd like that," Kurt said softly. Lindy couldn't decide whether this idea was touching to him, or if it flat out made him sad.

"I love you, Kurt," she told him earnestly. It was the same tactic that she had used from the beginning. Giving Kurt her love was the easiest choice that she'd ever made. For Lindy, it was the best kind of help that she could offer.

"I love you too." He paused before continuing. "Do you remember what I said, about us being soulmates? I still think that's true. And I know that we'll always be together, no matter what happens."

"I know that. I always have."

"I'll always be with you, Lindy."

His reiteration of the first comment was direct, aimed right at Lindy's heart as he pledged his forever commitment to the bond that he had created with her over the span of seven years.

Seven, Lindy thought. A so-called lucky number.

Maybe this year would be lucky for them. It had to be, especially with a future child involved.

"I'm proud of you, Kurt. Not just for the rehab thing . . . but for always being you. Your heart has never changed."

Kurt let out a small cough, clearing away what sounded like thickness in his throat over Lindy's acknowledgment of his unchanging personality. It was true. Even if heroin had sawed at the edges of who he was on the inside, it had not taken away the Kurt that Lindy first knew. No matter what, Kurt would always be Kurt. No one could take that away.

"I have to go now. Frances will be here soon."

"Okay. Call me tomorrow. I don't work until the evening."

"I will. I love you, Lindy. I love you forever," Kurt said, voicing his adoration for Lindy once more. It was irreplaceable love. If there was one thing that had not changed, it was the meaning behind every 'I love you' that Kurt had vowed to Lindy since their early days in Aberdeen.

He would always love her — through life and death.

"I love you too," Lindy said, closing her eyes for a passing second to visualize his lovely face.

"Bye."

"Bye Kurt."