by AnonYMous
I grinned. “Getting in shape.” I ran my hands over his turtleneck-covered chest. Hard, muscled. I couldn’t imagine he was ever out of shape.
“Yeah, I couldn’t chance your mother bidding on the wrong guy.”
“I can’t believe she kept the secret.” But then again, Mom had acted rather oddly every time I’d called her this past week—like she had customers to attend to and couldn’t talk, or she had something on the stove, or Mrs. Brubaker was visiting and she couldn’t be rude.
And then Jimmy began kissing me again, his mouth on mine, sure and confident, just like when we were teens. Except we were not teens any longer, and that scared me even more. What if my fantasies of him were just that and could never be realized?
But he kissed me the way I was meant to be kissed, not like when we were up on Table Rock, as if I was a fragile doll that would break into a million, unidentifiable pieces. The past melded with the present, and it was just like we had never been apart all these years. The evil ogre of our past was dead, and buried now, and all we had was a bright future.
This time, Jimmy broke the kiss and said, “Your mother said you had learned quite a bit about marketing techniques. Think you can help me with my business, too?”
A dream come true. I had been afraid I would not have enough to do working with Mom and her shop. I could help with the settlers’ houses, too? I could be a marketing consultant!
“Which of the homes are you going to be living in?”
“The one you and I always liked best. The cheery, century-old yellow colonial.”
“But you’ll rent out rooms?”
He shook his head. “I have other plans for the house.” But he just gave me a conspiratorial smile and said nothing more.
When Mom returned after a week, she found just what she’d expected. Jimmy and I had made great headway on setting up a tearoom on one end of her store, all done in Victorian Texas motif, and I’d helped Jimmy with some ideas for his settlers’ homes. But most of all, we had renewed our long-lost friendship, and marriage plans were in the works. I would continue to help Mom with her store, but I’d be moving into the Doffendorf house in the spring. Christmas and winter had always been a sad time for me since Jimmy and his mother had left town, but now I loved sitting in front of a warm fire, or taking brisk walks along the creek bed with Jimmy at my side.
Sometimes I worry that the ghost of Jimmy’s past still haunts him, and when he gets a serious, far away look, I hold on tight to him, because no matter what, I’m not losing him again. And he gives me all the reassurance I need, searing me all the way to the marrow of my bones with hot kisses and heated embraces that let me know he’s never leaving again. THE END
When a Lover Dies
CAN YOU HAVE A SECOND CHANCE AT LIFE?
After 4 years, I still awoke with a feeling of dread.
I opened my eyes gradually to the soft rays of sunlight streaming through my bedroom window, bathing the room in an amber glow. Still sleepy, I remembered this was a special day for some reason, and as the crisp fall air carrying the smell of leaves falling from the trees reached my senses, it started coming back to me. Autumn in Virginia, time for school to start. My little Andy was entering kindergarten. It was one of those bittersweet moments; I wanted it to be a special day for him, but I didn’t want to see him becoming more independent. Someday he would leave me just as my husband, Jay, had; it was inevitable.
Of course, Jay did not mean to leave me, but death did not ask our permission before taking him, along with thousands of others that infamous day when the impossible happened: terrorists attacked us on our own soil.
Jay had been in the wrong place at the wrong time: one of the top floors in the first tower at the World Trade Center, doing his job. No one who worked in his insurance office had survived, and his body was never recovered. After four years, I still awoke with a feeling of dread, a vague feeling that something was wrong; and then I would remember. If only I could forget, just for one day.
I sat up and reached for my robe, which was lying on a chair near the bed, and I pushed my feet into fuzzy pink slippers. Making my way through the hallway, I could smell the pleasant aroma of strong, freshly brewing coffee and, boy, could I use some. Preparing it the night before and turning on the timer was so much easier than trying to make it in the morning. Since Jay died, I was not a morning person. It was too tempting to just lie there in our warm, cozy bed, and imagine him still there; to fantasize that he would roll over and hold me in his arms for a few minutes before getting up to get ready for work.
Still groggy, I grabbed myself a cup of the hot, brown elixir that would soon clear my head. Sitting at the kitchen table, I held onto my dreams of Jay for a few more moments until they evaporated like the steam rising from my coffee cup, and it was time to deal with reality. I had to face things as they were and try to be strong for Andy’s sake. That’s what Jay would have wanted.
Andy was only a baby on September 11, 2001. The television was on in our home that morning, and I saw the horror unfolding before my eyes. I knew that Andy couldn’t understand what was happening or what it would mean in his life if his father didn’t come home. But his father would come home, I told myself. We wouldn’t have to worry about that other scenario.
My brain had trouble comprehending the situation; it was so unreal; it was like a movie. No one would really drive planes into buildings, killing themselves and countless innocent people.
Jay had worked in the city long enough to know his way around that building. If there was a way out, he would find it to get home to Andy and me. I knew he would also try to help everyone else he could. That was just the way he was, and that worried me a little; that Jay might take too much time helping others at the risk of his own life. I knew it was a selfish thought, but I wanted him to be alive, to walk through that door, safe and sound. I couldn’t let myself think that he might not be coming home.
All that day, I waited. There were many phone calls from friends and family wanting to know if I’d heard from him, and I told them I had to keep the line clear for his call, his call that never came. He never walked through the front door, and dusk approached and darkness fell. The sweet, tender kiss Jay had placed on my lips as he left that morning was our last.
For some time, I still had hope that Jay would be found alive. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Because they hadn’t found his body, I had been able to keep alive a small glimmer of hope, but eventually, even that faded. Finally, even the search for remains was abandoned.
The memorial service was well attended. It was held in Virginia because Jay had had so many friends and family there who’d loved him.
Although my grief was overwhelming, the service allowed for some finality, and I began trying to put my life back together as a widow with a small child. The first thing I needed to do was to get out of New York. So I put our house up for sale, and in a few months moved back to Arlington, Virginia, close to where my family and Jay’s family still lived.
But something besides Jay was missing from my life now: confidence in the goodness of people and what the future might bring. Unimaginable evil had been perpetrated against us inside our own borders, which I had always believed were impenetrable. We had been violated beyond belief, and my view that our world was a safe place, that people were basically good, had been forever altered.
Sometimes, when I was really down, I’d remember things Jay used to say to me, like “Blythe, you could have anyone. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” I’d smile when he said that, because I knew I was the lucky one, but I decided it was to my advantage to let Jay believe what he wanted. He loved my long, dark hair and huge brown eyes; he would hold my face between his hands and just gaze at me until I saw my reflection in his eyes, making me feel as beautiful as he thought I was.
I’d tell Jay he was gorgeous. “No, I’m not,” he would tease, “but I’m incredibly handsome.” I would nuzzle my face against his neck, breathing in the sweet
, citrus-like fragrance of his cologne, melting into the shelter of his embrace.
Right before he’d left that last day, Jay had held me closely against his body, his warm breath on my neck sending little chills up my spine. “I wish I didn’t have to go,” he’d whispered in my ear. He kissed me gently, passionately, and with one last lingering embrace, my love, my life, walked out the door and into eternity.
Looking back, I couldn’t believe how blessed we had been. Jay loved his child, his job, and of course, me. I loved him and my child, and we had a beautiful home. We were supportive of one another in everything we did. I missed that support as I sat alone in the kitchen.
For now, I needed to pull myself together so I would be a fit parent for Andy. He’d already lost one parent and did not deserve to lose the other. I was no longer a wife, but I was still a mother, and today was the day that my only baby was going off to kindergarten.
I’d been working for temp agencies in clerical positions to supplement the Social Security we got from Jay’s death. We also got some compensation from the government, but I still had to work to make ends meet.
Andy had been in daycare while I worked, so he would be all right when he entered kindergarten. It was more of a hurdle for me to get over than for him, because I knew it marked the start of a new phase in his life. I poured myself a second cup of coffee and felt a slight twinge of dread. Andy was slipping away from me, even if ever so slightly.
Just then, Andy came bounding down the stairs, breaking into my thoughts and bringing me back to the present. He ran into my arms, and I gave him a big hug. “Mom, can I have waffles for breakfast?” he asked, smiling at me with Jay’s mouth, looking up at me with Jay’s eyes.
“Sure, honey,” I said soothingly as I hugged him, “As long as you have some milk and take your vitamin.”
“I love you, Mommy,” Andy giggled, wrapping his little arms around my waist as I stood to get his breakfast. Those little hugs and my dreams of Jay were the only things that kept me going.
I walked Andy to his school. Secretly I wished I could go inside with him, but I knew I couldn’t live his life for him, and besides, the other kids would have teased him.
So I let go of his hand and waved goodbye as he walked toward the room monitors waiting at the door. He would leave me for good someday, as Jay had, and I would be totally alone. For now, I would bask in his presence and savor every moment I had with him.
I knew my thoughts weren’t rational, but I was feeling very sorry for myself as I walked back home alone. I knew I was probably overreacting, but I felt isolated, more alone than I had since those first terrible days when I lost Jay.
Tears rolled down my cheeks and onto the sidewalk. I didn’t care if people were looking at me. Jay would have been so proud of Andy. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t be here to share this day with me.
At home, I had things to do, so I forced myself to go about the business of living. I couldn’t sit around moping all day; it would only make me feel worse. Besides, I had a plan. Now that Andy was in school, I was going to try to find a permanent part-time job instead of working for temp agencies. Then, next year, when he would be in school all day, I would work full time. Keeping busy helped keep my mind out of the past and in the present.
I had updated my resume, and the envelopes to prospective employers were addressed and ready to go. Actually, I didn’t have much to put on a resume other than my temporary agency experience. However, I thought this experience might show that I could adapt to new situations and learn quickly. I was very conscientious, and if someone was willing to give me a chance, I would do a good job.
The weather was still pretty warm for fall, so I slipped into a pair of red shorts and a T-shirt, and put on walking shoes and red socks. Red was my favorite color. Jay had loved me in red; he said it made me look sexy.
I decided to walk to the post office with my resumes. I needed the exercise, and this would be another opportunity to get outside while the weather was still nice.
When I got to the post office, I was pleased to see that there were no long lines, and I told myself this was a good omen of things to come. I whirled around to head for the door, and I ran smack dab into a man, a rather big, wide-shouldered man.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, noting that the head atop the man’s wide shoulders was very good-looking and that his body was firm and trim.
“No harm done. I probably wasn’t paying attention,” he said gallantly. As his gray eyes met mine, I couldn’t help noticing the crooked smile over his straight, white teeth, and his black hair curling slightly over his ears.
I began to feel rather awkward, and I felt my face turning red. What was wrong with me? Hadn’t I seen a good-looking man before? I’d been married to one, for goodness sake.
“Are you all right?” the good-looking man asked, his voice smooth and melodious, pleasing to my ears. I was sure that I was blushing like a flustered child and hoping I didn’t appear that way.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I managed to stammer. “How about you?”
“Oh, I’m tough,” he joked. “It would take a lot more than a little thing like you to hurt me.”
I hadn’t been interested in men or in pursuing a relationship with one, but something about this man made me acutely aware of my loneliness. For some reason, my heart began to ache. I didn’t know this man, I didn’t even know if he was married or single, but he was definitely having some sort of effect on me.
“I wonder if you’d like to go for a cup of coffee with me sometime,” he grinned. He was so appealing, and I was so tempted. Still, fear of the unknown took over and wouldn’t loosen its grip on my heart. I was afraid to take the chance. It was better not to get close to anyone; that way, I would never be hurt again.
“No, I’m sorry. I really must go,” I muttered, turning quickly toward the door to make my escape.
“Wait a minute, please,” he said, right behind me. “How about giving me your phone number? I’m really a great guy once you get to know me.”
“I’m sure you are, but I don’t have time to talk right now.” I pulled my arm free and walked swiftly away, almost running.
“I can give you references,” he shouted after me.
“Sorry, no.” Somehow, my feet kept moving until I was around the corner and away from danger. My heart was pounding wildly, signaling a narrow escape. Escape from what? A date with a cute guy? No, it was more serious than that. It was escape from any more pain, so I felt justified in fleeing. I didn’t want fear and dread in my life ever again. It would be better to be alone forever than to take that chance.
As I reached my front gate, I finally began to relax. In a moment, I’d be safely inside. My heart was still beating fast and my palms were slippery as I tried to turn the doorknob with shaky hands.
Once inside my empty house, I found myself questioning my reasoning. Then, a remnant of the raw pain and anguish I’d felt when I’d learned Jay was lost swept over me, flooding my soul, reminding me why I could never go through that again. I’d done the right thing.
At some point, I realized the phone was ringing, and I ran to get it—maybe something was wrong with Andy at the school.
It was my friend, Jackie, asking me to meet her for lunch the next day. “Sure,” I answered more enthusiastically than I felt. “That sounds great.” It might be good for me to go out, and I hadn’t talked to my best friend for a while, so we had some catching up to do. It was an easy friendship between Jackie and me. No matter how long it had been since we last saw one another, we just picked up where we left off.
Jackie wanted to go to The Pier, a nice little seafood place on the water. I loved seafood and I adored being near the water, so that was fine with me. We agreed on a time to meet and said our goodbyes.
Jackie had a sweet, angelic face and shoulder-length blonde hair. Her husband, Jim, was a little older than she, and a nice guy. They wore that comfortable look couples get when they feel secure in their relationship.
That afternoon, I could hardly wait to go pick Andy up from school. He was so excited, telling me about all his new friends. He really liked his teacher, too. “She told us a story, Mom,” he beamed, excited. “And she showed us puppets and made them talk. I like school, Mommy.”
“I’m so glad you do, Andy. Your Daddy would be proud to see what a big boy you’re getting to be.” I wanted Andy to know that his dad would have been interested in all the things he was doing, and I wanted to keep Jay alive in Andy’s heart. Andy didn’t really know Jay, and it hurt to think that Jay was going to miss the rest of Andy’s life. No father had ever loved his child more.
That night, as I looked in on Andy while he slept, my eyes filled with the tears that had become too familiar. He looked like a cherub. I missed Jay even more at times like these, when the thought of raising a child alone seemed so overwhelming. How could I teach Andy those things a man usually teaches his son? The responsibility was mind-boggling. I prayed that God would guide me and help me to do things right.
The next day, Andy was anxious to go back to school, and I walked with him again. Around eleven, I changed from my shorts into a pair of jeans and a nice sea-foam green blouse. That’s about as dressed up as I got lately.
I drove to the restaurant in my little gold Hyundai. It was easy to handle and to park, and it had a good safety record. I was really looking forward to seeing Jackie, and as I parked the car, I thought about what I might like to order from the menu. I liked the food at this place.