"You two go ahead," Dani finally said. "Enjoy a peaceful walk. I think I'll just stay here awhile longer." After another long hug, Michelle went to join Alex and the two left the room holding hands.
Once again alone, Dani sat down in a chair on the veranda and watched as the young couple came into view. Hand in hand, Michelle and Alex walked slowly along the water's edge as the breeze lifted Michelle's auburn hair from her shoulders. For one brief second, Dani could almost believe it was the Michelle's mother, Vanessa, walking down the beach with her red hair whipping up in the breeze. Dani gazed up into the clear, blue sky scattered with white, puffy clouds. "You're finally together again," Dani said aloud. Michael and his daughter, Vanessa, would finally be united after years of being separated too soon. This thought comforted Dani. "I know you both will continue to look after Michelle, too," she said.
Sitting there alone, Dani thought back through all the years she and Michael had shared. Even though they had only spent eighteen years together, they had loved and shared more than most people do in a lifetime. Michael had promised to love her forever, and he had. He'd given her everything that had been missing in her life and so much more. Love, a home and a beautiful child to raise and care for. All the things she thought she'd never have, he had given her. They had traveled together, worked together and raised Michelle together. It was the perfect life, one she would have never imagined she'd have until Michael and she were together at last.
But then three years ago the cancer diagnosis had changed their lives forever, and after fighting harder than he'd ever had in his life, cancer had taken Michael away. Now, at only fifty-five years old, Dani was alone again with huge responsibilities ahead of her.
Dani stood and walked through the open French doors into the living room, stopping at the many family photos that decorated the fireplace mantle. There were photos of Michelle's parents, Vanessa and Matthew, on their wedding day, another of the couple with a chubby baby Michelle in their arms, smiling. There were old photos of Michael's parents and one of Dani's parents, and several of Michael, Dani and Michelle throughout the years. Michael had been there for Dani when each of her parents had died in turn, first her father several years ago and then her mother more recently. He had given Dani support when she had decided to stay home and be a full-time caregiver to Michelle and had welcomed her back to Regal Coats when she'd decided it was time to work again. They had been lovers, parents to Michelle and partners in everything they did and had made many memories along the way. And before cancer took Michael's final breath, he'd asked Dani to promise to continue running the family business and watch over Michelle until she could, at last, be the next generation of DeCaras to run Regal Coats. It was an easy promise for Dani to make.
Dani slowly made her way to the grand staircase and began climbing the steps up to her bedroom. Michael had kept all his promises to her and now it was time for her to keep her promises also. She had years ahead of her, years to continue the family business, watch Michelle blossom into a woman, become a wife and a mother and eventually take over Regal Coats. Dani was up to the challenge; because Michael had loved her so completely while alive, she knew she could live off of that love for years to come.
As Dani reached her bedroom door and stepped inside, she smiled to herself as she looked around the room. The décor had changed from the first time she saw this room but the feelings of warmth and love would always remain the same. She knew she could go on because, of all the many things Michael had given her, the greatest gifts had been the memories of their life together, an extraordinary life filled with love, happiness and wonder. It was these beautiful memories that would keep her focused and content until the day she was finally able to once again be by his side, her first love and her last love, the man she had loved forever.
-END-
About the Author
Deanna Lynn Sletten has been working as a freelance writer for print media and websites for over twenty years. She operated the writer's blog, Write Moms, for several years before returning to her passion: novel writing. She self-published "Widow, Virgin, Whore" and "Outlaw Heroes" in paperback in 2001 and in 2011 she self-published these books in eBook format. "Memories" is her third published novel. Deanna has two grown children and lives in northern Minnesota with her husband. When she is not writing, she enjoys walking the woodland trails with her beautiful Australian Shepherd.
You can find Deanna online at:
Deanna's Blog: www.deannalynnsletten.com
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/555634.Deanna_Lynn_Sletten
Please enjoy the following excerpt from Deanna's novel Widow, Virgin, Whore
Widow, Virgin, Whore
By Deanna Lynn Sletten
Chapter 1
“Well, what do you think?” Katherine Samuals spun in a complete circle, arms raised, her voice echoing in the empty room.
“I love it,” Denise Richards replied, watching her friend complete her circle. “But this is going to take a lot of work. Are you sure you're up to it?”
Katherine slowly viewed the room around her, pleased with what she saw. The work didn't bother her. It would be like a fresh start, a new challenge. The house she lived in now held too many memories; this would be an ideal way to begin making new ones.
“I’ve always wanted a Victorian house like this to fix up and live in," she said, beaming. "I don’t care how much work it is. All it really needs is some paint and a new finish on these floors.” Her heels clicked on the oak floorboards as she walked across the room to the bay window that viewed Puget Sound. “Any amount of work is worth this view. It’s beautiful, don’t you think?”
From the center of the room Denise smiled, delighted at her friend's enthusiasm. It had been a long time since she'd seen Katherine this excited.
“Yes, it is. And this house will be beautiful when it’s fixed up.”
Katherine turned and faced Denise. “The only question now is whether you want to live here, too? You can have your choice of any of the four bedrooms upstairs. I don’t care which room I have and Chris isn’t choosy either, he likes them all. The only room I want is the upstairs turret room. It’s going to make a great office.” Katherine stopped speaking, eager to hear her friend’s reply. Her ability to afford this house rested upon whether Denise wanted to share the expenses with her. “Well, what do you think?” she asked hopefully, holding her breath in anticipation.
Denise gave her friend a small smile. “I would love living here. This beats an apartment any day. But are you sure we can stand each other, living together twenty-four hours a day?” she teased.
Katherine let out a relieved sigh, walking over and placing her arm around her friend's shoulders. They made a striking pair together, Katherine tall and lean, her rich brown hair falling straight to her shoulders, her classic features warmed by sparkling brown eyes; and Denise, slightly shorter and shapelier, her auburn hair long and thick, her blue eyes bright within her olive complexion. So different, yet both beautiful in her their own way that men always took notice when they were together. “We’ve been putting up with each other since the sixth grade. I don't think living in the same house together will change anything.” They both laughed and Katherine pivoted on her heel once more, excited that Denise had agreed to move in.
“I can’t wait to get started," she said, breathlessly. "I want to paint Chris' room before school starts, and refinish the floors, and paint the kitchen cupboards, and...”
“There is one thing, Kathy,” Denise interrupted, hesitantly. “I was wondering, what are you thinking of doing with the apartment over the garage?”
Katherine shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about that yet. Why? Did you want that room for yourself?”
Denise shook her head. “No, no. I’ll be happy with one of the bedrooms upstairs.” She hesitated again, biting her lip. “Actually, I was thinking of Darla.”
“Your sister?” Katherine scrunched her nose in dist
aste.
Denise nodded. "She has to change apartments again. She can’t afford the one she’s in now, and, well, when she heard you might be buying this big house she asked if I’d talk you into letting her rent from you.”
The spark in Katherine’s brown eyes dulled at the mention of Darla. “There’s no way your sister and I can live under the same roof. She hates me, and I’m not that thrilled with her, either.”
“She doesn’t really hate you, she’s mean to everyone. Even me,” Denise said matter-of-factly.
“It’s more than that. She’s crazy! And raunchy, and rude, and mouthy, and trashy. For Pete’s sake, Denise, she has orange hair and wears silver platform shoes!” Katherine shook her head. “No. There’s no way I could live with her. One of us would end up dead!” She waived her hand in the air as if fanning away an undesirable smell and turned toward the window again.
Denise knew from the onset this wouldn't be easy. Taking a deep breath, she pressed on. “That’s why I thought the apartment over the garage would work. It has its own bathroom and entrance from the outside, so it won't seem like she's actually living with us. We’d have to share the kitchen, but since she doesn’t cook we won’t see her in there much either.” Seeing Katherine square off her shoulders, unyielding, Denise dealt another reason from her deck of arguments. “And it would mean more rent money to help pay for the house,” she added softly.
Katherine pondered this as she slowly studied the house she so desperately wanted to own. She loved the sunken living room where they now stood that stretched out into the dining room before ending at the swinging oak door leading into the kitchen. She stared at the louvered doors that closed off the pass-through from kitchen to dining room that she already planned to paint white and add round ceramic knobs to. The kitchen was small, but serviceable, with enough space to add a table and chairs where they could sit for breakfast every morning. She turned to view the foyer that held the beginning of the oak staircase leading up to the bedrooms above. She could picture an umbrella stand by the door, a parson's bench by the staircase, a blue woven rug on the entryway floor. And the view. She completed her circle and stepped closer to the window showcasing the view of the beach, and bay beyond. The house sat high above Puget Sound, the planked front porch overlooking the water and tread worn wooden steps that led down to the beach. A place to set white wicker chairs with striped cushions and perhaps hang a wooden swing. Yes, she wanted to own it all, despite its need of stain and paint and good old-fashioned elbow grease. And extra rent money could help make it all happen.
Sitting on the bare window seat she faced her friend, still not completely sold on the idea of including Darla in the plan. “But she brings home anything in pants. And sleeps with it!” She visibly shuddered at the thought of all the men Darla had had. It totally disgusted her.
Denise lowered her eyes to the floor, her burgundy wire-framed glasses catching the sunlight and glinting in Katherine’s eyes for a split second. She played her trump card. “You’re right. It was a crazy idea. Actually, I was only thinking of Chelsea when I suggested it.”
The mention of Chelsea touched a raw nerve in Katherine. She was a sweet, twelve-year-old girl, the same age as her own son, who didn’t deserve a mother like Darla. Chelsea had lived in as many apartments in the town of Seattle as the number of men her mother had had, and that number was intolerable. If anyone deserved a decent home, it was Chelsea.
Denise eyed Katherine and could see her resolve dwindle from the slump of her shoulders. Her own timid nature was no match against Kathy’s strong will, but after twenty-four years of friendship she knew how to appeal to Kathy’s heart. She ventured forward. “Chelsea’s been a latch-key kid since Kindergarten. I thought, since you work at home most of the time, it might be a nice change for her to come home where someone is waiting for her. And she and Chris get along so well. They’re practically like brother and sister. It would give her a real sense of family. I think she needs that.”
Katherine stared down at her shoes on the bare, wooden floor and thought this over. Outside, a single gull bellowed as it made its way over the house to the beach below. The faint smell of salt air drifted in through the open front door. She inhaled deeply, wanting to experience the scents and sounds of beach life fully. The serenity of water lapping upon the shore was something she craved after a year of hectic and heartbreaking decisions. And she knew deep in her heart that this was the place where she could find the sense of peace she craved. Sharing it with family and friends might also be exactly what she needed.
With renewed vision, Katherine stood. “You’re right. Chelsea deserves some sort of family life and we’re the ones who can give her that.” She gave Denise a faint smile as she crossed the distance between them. “We’ll give it a try.”
Denise reached up and hugged her long-time friend. “Thanks, Kathy. It will work out. I’m sure of it.”
Katherine nodded, but her face tightened. She wagged a finger at Denise. “But if Darla does one thing to annoy me, she’s out! Deal?”
“Deal. But we get to keep Chelsea, right?”
“Absolutely!” They hugged again. Denise was relieved at the outcome, and Katherine was already forming a plan in her mind to include Chelsea, and of course, Darla, into the household. Chelsea and Chris would start Middle School in September together, perhaps making the transition in schools easier, she reasoned. Yes, it just might work.
Feeling lighthearted again, Katherine and Denise headed toward the front door where the real estate woman was waiting for an answer. “Let’s go buy a house,” Katherine said, and the two friends headed out the door with arms linked.
Two weeks later Katherine was up to her armpits in paint, stain, varnish, and wallpaper. She was able to begin work on the house immediately after signing the papers, so she took off a week from her job at the King County Journal and flung herself into fixing up her dream home.
The first thing she did was recruit Chris' and Chelsea’s services in painting their bedrooms. Chelsea was not only thrilled with the prospect of living with her favorite aunts and Chris, but also being able to decorate a room of her own. “I’ve never lived in a house before,” the excited teen told Katherine, her blue eyes sparkling. She had her aunt’s thick auburn hair and deep blue eyes laced with dark, full lashes and brows. She was often mistaken as Denise’s daughter. The only feature that resembled her mother was her high, prominent cheek bones. She was going to be a beauty, there was no doubt. But like her aunt, she chose not to flaunt it as her mother did.
The kids picked out the colors and fabrics for their rooms. Chelsea chose to paint hers in a rose and cream stripe with a thin, pink floral boarder edging the top of the walls and pink floral curtains for her window. Chris decided on a sea mist green for the walls and wanted to boarder the room with white shelving to place his seashell and rock collections on. His room would reflect him, a no-nonsense kind of kid, neat, orderly, with a place for everything. His appearance reflected this too, his sandy blond hair neat but not fussy, his clothing clean but not overly stylish. At age twelve he was tall and already in the lanky stage of his teen years. But he wasn’t at all clumsy; he was very athletic and participated in several sports.
Katherine helped both kids get started with paint rollers and brushes, then began her own work downstairs. She hired a man to sand down the living room, dining room, and entryway floors, then refinished them herself before painting the walls off-white. She hung lace curtains in the bay window and added a thick blue and white striped cushion to the seat, next turning her attention to wallpapering the tiny bathroom upstairs. Her goal was to make the place livable before moving in and then worry about any major fix-ups afterward.
Denise came in the evenings to lend a hand. Unlike Katherine, she couldn’t take time off from her job at the Community Hospital near downtown Seattle where she worked as the records clerk in the Pediatric/Maternity Ward. Policy required six weeks notice for vacation time, so she had to be content with helpi
ng out on nights and weekends.
Katherine insisted Denise take the master bedroom with the small bay window that overlooked Puget Sound. She had a great view from the turret room that she was going to use as an office so the bedroom on the side of the house was fine for her needs. After much protest, Denise gave in and set out to decorate her room to her own style much as the kids had done. Everyone’s tastes blended to combine rooms that complimented without clashing. The cream wallpaper with soft pink sprig roses that Katherine placed in the upstairs hallway was the perfect link between the rooms, the oak molding being the common thread that joined them all together. Looking at the rooms, one would think from their common tastes that they had all come from the same family. That was until Darla finally made her appearance.
It was the second weekend since they had begun work on the house. The day was warm and dry, so Katherine recruited the kids to paint the front porch dove gray while Denise supervised and painted the front door white. Katherine was in the kitchen scrubbing the tile countertops when Darla entered through the back door in all her tight pant, silver shoe glory.
“Oh my God, a Victorian house!” she stated aloud, a cigarette dangling from the corner of her glossy red mouth. "I should have known you’d own a tight-ass house.” She leveled her gaze on Katherine waiting for a reaction.
Katherine squared her shoulders and turned to face that gaze. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to stay.”
“What?” Darla gave mock surprise, raising a splayed hand to her abundant breasts. “And miss out on this experiment of sisterly love and friendship? Why, I wouldn’t dream of leaving.” She took off her sunglasses and placed them on top of her too-stiff, orange hair. “Now, where am I supposed to park my ass?”
Memories Page 21