Spider Web

by Danielle James

  When he opened them, Michael found himself standing in the dirt field once again. It was dark, but Michael knew he was back in Texas. He swore under his breath. How dare they do this to him? Was this some kind of game? Did the Fates enjoy his struggles? Or was this part of his penance? Whatever it was, Michael did not like it one bit.

  Three more times Michael made his way to Louisville. Three more times he found himself back in the same field. The last time, Michael sank to his knees. He prayed for forgiveness, he prayed for mercy. He prayed to be allowed just one look at Shannon, to see that she was indeed doing ok. When he was finally exhausted, Michael let sleep claim him. He curled up into a ball and made the dirt his bed. It was really true. He would never be allowed to see Shannon again. His heart ached sharply and Michael gave into the despair.

  “Get up, man.” A foot nudged Michael. Why should he do that?

  “Mike, get up,” the man said, nudging Michael again, this time not so gently. “I don’t have much time, so you better get up.” Clearing the sleep from his mind, Michael sat up and looked into the face of his friend, Gabriel.

  “Gabriel,” Michael sighed with relief. “Have you come to take me back?” he asked hopefully.

  Gabriel gave a short shake of his head. “I wish I were, my friend, but unfortunately, no. I have come to help you, though.”

  “Shannon?” Michael asked.

  “Is fine,” Gabriel told him. “She is going on with her life just as she did before she knew you. I have taken her under my protection. You need not worry over her anymore. I will see that she is safe from now on.”

  Michael was both angry and relieved. Gabriel would take good care of his woman. But it infuriated Michael that it had to be that way. “Why can’t I be in Louisville? How is it that I always end up back here?”

  “Did you even stop to think that maybe there is a reason why you are here? Why this place? Why not Timbuktu or Egypt or New York? Think man, there is a reason behind this. You should know that.”

  “I think the Fates are just having fun at my expense, that’s what I think,” Michael snapped, running his hand through his grubby hair.

  “Michael, you broke the rules. You might have been able to explain away protecting Shannon, but you continued to see her. You kissed her. You allowed her to form strong feelings for you. That is why your punishment is so severe.”

  “And if I go back to her?”

  “Then you will be whisked away again.”

  “So I am to never see her again?”

  “No.”

  “Why would He just toss me aside like this? Why would Father turn his back on me so completely? I could not control my heart. Why would he give us feelings if we are never meant to act on them? I never thought He could be so cruel.”

  “Michael,” Gabriel said, a warning in his tone, “You know that Father would never turn his back on you. Think about what I have said. Everything happens for a reason. Stay here, in Texas. See where this all leads you.”

  “Will I see you again?” Michael asked his friend.

  “I don’t know,” Gabriel answered honestly. “But know this; I will never be too far away.”

  Michael nodded. “Thank you, Gabriel,” he whispered. “Take good care of her.”

  “I will. I must go now. Be well, my friend.” Gabriel disappeared.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  December

  Las Vegas, Nevada

  Jules sat in front of the antique vanity staring blankly at the reflection looking back at her. The person in the mirror was nearly unrecognizable. She looked like Jules, but without any life, without any soul. Her hazel eyes were swollen, rimmed red with unshed tears.

  The vanity had been a gift from Joe. He had picked it up from an antique shop for her while he was out on a business trip. He was always doing things like that. He would pick up odds and ends, flowers, anything that would bring a smile to her or Kelly’s face.

  Kelly.

  She had been more the adult than Jules in the days following Joe’s death. She had found her mother sitting in the kitchen the morning after her trip to the hospital, her head resting on her knees in the middle of the mess.

  Jules told her daughter about Joe, and the two of them had cried and held each other before cleaning the mess. She had stood strong and secure during Joe’s funeral when all Jules could do was sit in the chair beside his casket and cry.

  Jules remembered that day as clearly as if it had only been yesterday. Kelly had worn a sensible skirt and silk top, her wild blonde spikes tamed into soft curls around her young face. Her blue eyes had been dark with grief, but she still managed to talk to all of the family and friends who came to pay their respects.

  Jules remembered looking into Joe’s casket. It hadn’t even looked like the Joe that she had known and loved. His face was expressionless, his eyes closed. He had been positioned to appear to be sleeping. Jules knew better. Even in sleep, Joe’s face was never expressionless. His face was covered in far too much makeup, an attempt to hide the enormous bruise that covered the left side of his face.

  Joe hadn’t died immediately, but on the way to the hospital. What had he been thinking then? Did he know that he was dying? Had he known how much he was loved?

  Jules shook the memory from her mind and eyed the bed in the center of the room. It hadn’t been slept in for months. Not since the last time Joe slept in it. Jules had made her bed on the couch. She just hadn’t been able to bring herself to sleep alone in their bed.

  There were boxes scattered around her bedroom floor. It was time. It had been time for a long time, but Jules couldn’t make herself do it. The closet doors stood open, waiting. She walked the few steps to the closet and gently fingered the suit jacket closest to her. It still smelled like him. How was that even possible?

  She took it off its hanger and hugged the jacket close to her breast. She had been fighting this day, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. It was time to give away Joe’s things. Time to let go. She folded the jacket and placed it in one of the boxes. She followed suit with the other items hanging in the closet. Half way through, someone knocked at her front door.

  Jules hadn’t been expecting anyone. She had let Kelly go with her friends to practice with their band. Joe had taught her to play guitar when she was only five, and when she turned fourteen, she traded in her acoustic for an electric BC Rich. She also traded in the classics for something that sounded a lot more like noise than music. Over time, though, she got better, and now Jules enjoyed hearing the rock music blaring from the garage.

  She answered the door and was surprised to see Andrew standing on the other side. His short, dark hair was dripping, his brown eyes were sad. In his hands, he held two Styrofoam cups. The rain left a nice, clean smell in the air. Rain was unusual for Nevada, but not unheard of. It was fitting to her mood.

  “Hey,” Andrew said. “We miss you around the office. I thought I might stop by and see how you’re getting along.”

  “Hi Andrew,” Jules replied. “I miss you too. Please, come in.”

  Andrew walked through the door and handed her one of the cups. Jules thanked him and sipped the hot coffee. Andrew knew her so well. “I was just going through Joe’s things.”

  “Yeah, I figured you would sooner or later. I also noticed the ‘For Sale’ sign in the yard,” he jerked his head toward the aforementioned sign. “Want some help?”

  “Actually, I think I do. At first, I thought I should do it myself, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “Well, what are friends for?” he asked. Andrew pushed past her and led the way to her bedroom. He stopped in the doorway and looked at her progress. He shook his head slowly and then got down to business.

  The pair worked together in silence until all of Joe’s things were boxed up. The only thing left was his dresser. Jules opened the top drawer and her eyes fell on a plastic bag on top; a small black bag. It was his personal belongings from that night at the hospital.

  “What’s that?” An
drew asked.

  “The bag they gave me that night,” she answered in a whisper. “I never opened it.”

  “Well, let’s do it now,” Andrew suggested. They sat on the bed and Jules opened the bag. She shook the contents out onto the comforter. Joe’s wallet, his keys to his Mercedes that was resting in a junk yard somewhere, a pack of gum, eye drops, and a small black bag dropped out.

  Jules didn’t understand the bag. It was a velvet bag like you would get from a jewelry store. She opened the bag and pulled out a small, velvet covered box. It was an inconspicuous thing, but it still made Jules’s hand shake. She looked at Andrew, who nodded. She opened the box. Inside, there was a small heart pendant. Jules fingered the edges of the heart, and then flipped it over. On the back, there was an inscription. My life, My love.

  Jules couldn’t hold back the torrent of tears that fell. He had stopped on his way home to pick up her anniversary gift. That’s why he was late. He died because he wanted to give her something special. Guilt and grief washed over Jules in waves. She pushed the box over to Andrew, who liberated the necklace from the box and draped it around her neck. Then, he pulled her to his chest and let her cry.

  Jules woke early the next morning, just before dawn, in her bed. The house was very quiet and she knew that Kelly was still sleeping. Jules stretched her legs under the comforter like a cat waking from a long satisfying nap and then realized where she was. She sucked in a quick breath and waited for the pain she knew would come. Instead, to her surprise, she felt reasonably calm; content. It wasn’t as bad as she had suspected sleeping in her bed would be.

  She knew that she must have cried herself to sleep the night before, and Andrew must have tucked her in before leaving. He was a good friend, she thought to herself. He had been there for Jules more times than she could count since Joe’s death. He had always been Joe’s friend, though. Jules never saw him more than in passing before just a few months ago. She silently vowed to herself to find a way to thank him once she got herself together. She was going to miss him.

  Jules got out of bed, put on her clothes, and made up the blankets for the last time. It was fitting, sleeping in the bed one last time, on the last night in their Nevada house. Jules had put the house on the market only two months earlier and it didn’t take long to start receiving offers. She accepted the first one that paid off the existing mortgage. Joe’s life insurance had been enough to cover his burial, and to pay all the bills for at least a year. But Jules couldn’t live in the house that they had grown together as a family in. The pain was too much.

  Jules surveyed her nearly empty house. All of the belongings they had left unpacked would fit neatly into a single box. The moving company had already been dispatched to deliver her belongings to the apartment she had rented in Boston.

  A small but successful firm in Boston, Marcus-Drake-Westinghouse, had offered Jules a position there, with paying clients. Having done mostly pro bono work, she needed something more lucrative now that she didn’t have Joe’s income. Plus, she didn’t want to stay in Nevada. There were too many memories, too many things that hurt. The further away, the better. So Boston it was.

  “Morning Mom,” Kelly interrupted her train of thought. Her blonde hair was disheveled in such a way that Jules thought it must have been deliberate. But then, who could really tell with modern teenagers? Certainly not Jules. She had learned long before to pick her battles. As far as Kelly was concerned, Jules kept the clothing/hair arguments limited to only the most extreme circumstances. Not that she often fought with Kelly anyway. With a mental shrug, Jules continued to survey her lovely daughter’s appearance. Kelly was wearing faded and ripped blue jeans and a Metallica t-shirt. Her bright blue eyes were rimmed with electric blue eyeliner and her lips were very pink. Yep, she’d been up long enough to get dressed and ready for the day.

  “Good morning, Baby,” Jules greeted her daughter. “Want some breakfast?”

  “Can we make pancakes?” she asked with a smile. They used to make pancakes together when Kelly was younger. Jules smiled.

  “Of course,” she answered. The two made breakfast together in near silence. There weren’t any words needed; they worked well as a team.

  When they were both leaning against the counter eating their pancakes, Kelly asked, “Is it ok if I visit over Christmas break?” Kelly had decided to stay with her aunt in order to finish her senior year of high school. Jules couldn’t begrudge her daughter that, even if it broke her own heart to let her stay behind.

  Jules stopped with her fork half way to her mouth. “Of course it’s ok. You can come any time you want.” Then, she smiled. “I had been hoping you might feel that way. In fact, I already bought you a plane ticket. Aunt Denise has it.”

  “Cool,” was Kelly’s only response. She was a wonderful child, Jules thought. Not only was she more mature than her nearly eighteen years, but she made good decisions. Good grades, stayed off drugs, had good friends, and she was talented; with both her music and her artwork. Not something she inherited from Jules. What more could a mother ask for?

  They finished their breakfast in silence, cleaned up the mess, and sat on the porch to wait for Denise. She was coming to take Jules to the airport and Kelly to her house to live for the next few months. It was a warm day, even though it was December. Jules would miss the dry weather. Instead, she was trading it in for cold and snow in Boston. But it was on the coast, and the ocean had always been a place of peace for her.

  At eight o’clock, Denise pulled into the driveway in her minivan. She smiled as she walked up the concrete steps to the porch.

  “Morning, Guys.” She was happy. Jules envied her. What Jules would give to feel happy again! She had a really hard time finding anything to smile about at all lately. Jules forced a smile for her sister and motioned for her to follow her back into the house. “So, let’s get moving, Jules. You don’t want to miss your plane.”

  “I’m ready,” she lied. She had been dreading this day as much as she had needed it to come. “All of Kelly’s things are in the front room, and I just have the one carry-on bag.”

  After the van was loaded, Jules took one last look at her home and closed the door. She spared one last glance at the tree in the front yard that still had Kelly’s old tire swing attached. She and Joe had spent hours back there; Joe would push Kelly and she would squeal with delight. They sometimes played in the playhouse Joe built for her when she was very small, even though he had to fold himself in unnatural ways to fit inside. She was always a princess; Joe was her prince. He would rescue her from the mean dragon. Jules smiled to herself and wondered if the new tenants would find as much joy as she once had here. She fervently hoped so. Jules let out a long, wistful sigh and got in the van.

  The drive to the airport was slow. Even early in the day, traffic was grueling. They made small talk on the way, but Jules’s mind was elsewhere. She clutched a small urn next to her chest the whole way. It was an inconspicuous thing, and you wouldn’t know what it contained if you didn’t look closely. It held part of the remains of her cremated husband. Most of his ashes had been sealed in the family vault at the cemetery, but this small portion was given to Jules with a special set of instructions. She would carry out those instructions personally when her plane landed in Boston.

  At the airport, Denise and Kelly escorted Jules to her terminal. They waited patiently while the attendant checked the ticket, and then helped her gather her things. Jules hugged her sister gently, assuring her that she would call the second the plane landed in Boston. Kelly threw her arms around Jules’s neck, a silent tear streaking down her face. Jules left the safety of her broken little family and turned to board the plane that would take her away from this life of pain, to a place where she could start new. She drew in a deep breath, and walked the short distance to board the plane.

  Jules cried silently to herself as the plane lifted off the runway and into the air. Eventually, deep, dreamless sleep found her. It was a straight flight to Boston, and
it was a long ride. She was awakened by the soft chiming of a bell and the attendant telling everyone to put on their seatbelts. The plane was landing. Jules let her eyes wander the passenger compartment for a moment, trying to decide if she really had slept the entire time. She guessed it was just as well. Jules held onto the sides of her seat as the plane descended. This was the part she always hated. Flying did not scare her; the landing did. She figured if she could survive flying thirty thousand feet in the air across the country, well, it would be a shame to die now. Not that being dead would really have been any different from how she was already feeling, just the actual dying part worried her. She very literally white-knuckled it through the landing, then blew out a sigh of relief when the landing gear touched gently to the ground. The worst part was over. Now, she had a job to do.

  Jules exited the airport, pulling her sweater close. It was cold. She hailed a taxi and got in.

  “Take me to the beach,” she insisted as she tossed a one hundred-dollar bill in the seat beside the driver, “any beach.”

  The driver looked at the bill and smiled, “Sure thing, lady.”

  The drive wasn’t as long as Jules had thought it would be, and she was grateful for that. Even though she had slept on the plane, she was exhausted. She looked at the man driving the cab and asked him to wait. “Meter’s runnin,” he said. Jules frowned at him but said nothing about his response.

  “I won’t be long.”

  She walked down the cement path toward the sand. The wind was blowing gently, bringing the smell of salt water to her nose. She breathed deep, taking in the aroma. Jules had always loved the smell of the ocean. The smell of brine and sea life filled her nose and settled her soul. She rolled up her pant legs and took off her shoes, despite the cold, and walked deliberately to the water. The small waves lapped at her feet gently, sending a chill down her spine. She didn’t want to carry out the task at hand, but it had been Joe’s will, and she couldn’t NOT stand by his wishes. Jules stepped out further until the waves licked at her calves. The water was freezing! Anyone looking must have thought she was crazy. She carefully took the small urn from her bag. Being very careful, she traced the design etched into the side of it. It was simple, only a brass urn with silver designs. They looked almost like ribbons. She carefully opened the urn, held it out at arms’ length, and turned it. The gentle breeze picked up just then, carrying the remains of her beloved Joe out to sea. The tears returned once again as she whispered to him, “Goodbye, my love.”