“Thanks, Laurel, but I really do need to do this alone. I don’t know why, but it just seems like the right way,” I say.
“Okay,” she says as she gives me a hug. “Just know that I’m only a phone call away, if you need me to talk to, or if you decide you want me to drive over after all.”
I thank her, then hop in the car for the long drive to Atlantic City.
I actually stay at Caesar’s Palace this trip. The vouchers we received have long since been used by Laurel and Pete and a few of their friends, but I giggle to myself thinking about them. Poor Vance being locked up for trying to come to my rescue.
After getting settled in my room, I spend the evening wandering around the casino. I spend some time at the draw poker machines near where we played that first night. Then I stop by the craps table and watch some of the action. I never did learn enough about the game to place a bet, but I enjoy watching everyone else and thinking about being there with Vance. After a little while I drift over to “my machine.” Fortunately, it’s empty, so I sit down and feed fifty dollars into it. I’m tempted to take out five hundred, since that’s the amount Vance had given me that night, but I’m not here to completely relive our first days to the letter. I’m just here to visit some happy memories. I go through my investment without ever getting to spin the big wheel. It makes me laugh. I stroke the top of the machine affectionately as I stand up, not bothering to look around to see if anyone is watching. So what if people think I’m crazy. I still do love this machine and probably always will.
The following day, I lay in bed for a while, but that’s a little too hard for me to bear. Those memories are just a little too raw to lay alone and think about, so I get up and go downstairs to one of the restaurants for a late breakfast, then spend the day walking around the boardwalk playing games and watching people. I end up with a bit of a sunburn on my nose and shoulders, but I feel a little lighter and happier for having spent the day around people enjoying themselves.
In the evening, I put on my red fringed dress and walk down to the little Cuban nightclub we went to our second night in Atlantic City. I have a few mojitos and decline a few invitations to dance. I considered them, I really did, but it just didn’t seem right to me. This is another one of our places and I don’t want to make any other memories here. I want to visit the one I have, and leave it at that. I listen to the music for a while, then leave quietly to return to my room.
The following day I spend much like the one before, since I enjoyed myself so much. Just before sundown, however, I return to my room and gather the special items I packed and head down to the marina listed in the instructions I received from the company I’d contacted. I meet the captain of the thirty-eight foot charter vessel on the dock, who introduces himself simply as Nick. He advises that we’ll be sailing about five miles out from the shoreline for the ceremony, after which we’ll circle around a few times and then, per my request, we’ll take a short scenic cruise of Atlantic City before heading back in to the marina.
It doesn’t take long to reach what he calls the burial site. After Nick anchors the boat, we meet at the small platform set up especially for the occasion and I hand him the urn containing Vance’s ashes. Placing them on a small podium before us, the captain gives a very brief but lovely speech about life and death, love and loss, and the returning of one’s spirit to nature. Once he finishes, he returns the urn to me. I approach the side of the boat and open it. I close my eyes for a few moments, recalling my last conversation with Vance and my promise to him. I don’t know how I will accomplish it, but I know that the love he had given me made me a better, stronger person than I had ever been before it. Because of him, I would eventually find my way through, and I’d be able to keep my promise to him. He’d always be a treasured part of me, and just as he’d said, I’d keep that flame he’d lit burning just for him.
With that, I open my eyes and slowly tilt the urn over the side of the boat, letting go of Vance in the place where all our perfection began.
TWO YEARS LATER
“So when will you be back?” Justin asked as he lifted my small suitcase into the trunk of my SUV.
“We’re only going for the weekend. I’ll be back before you know it. You won’t even miss me at all.” I teased. The girls and I were going to Lake Havasu for Memorial Day weekend on a much needed girls’ trip. We were meeting up with some friends of Jessica’s who had rented a house boat and planned on spending our time sunbathing, drinking and flirting with any handsome men we might find among the frat boys who would be descending upon the lake for the holiday. I was up for the sunbathing and drinking, but not so sure about the men. In the nearly three years that had passed since Vance died, I hadn’t really done any dating. I had gone on a few blind dates the girls had set up for me in the last six months but never felt any kind of connection to anyone. Honestly, that was fine with me. I no longer lived in my memories of the past, but I wasn’t in any hurry to change my life as it had come to be. Justin satisfied any need for male companionship that I had—well, most needs. I’ll just say any “special” needs that I may have had were fulfilled with the assistance of B.O.B. It was far and away less satisfying than the real thing, but again I was in no hurry. I guess in that respect, Vance had spoiled me. It was going to take a certain type of person to meet my expectations in the romance and sex department, and I doubted his existence. Vance was one of a kind and although I had healed, I didn’t think anyone would be able to compare, either. That said, I did feel a certain “itch” so to speak. Wait, that sounds really bad when talking about things down there. Forget I said anything.
“Aww Peaches, you know that’s not true,” Justin said while grabbing my hand and holding it over his heart. “I ache right here whenever you’re away.”
I slapped his chest teasingly. “When do I ever go away?”
“Just last month, you left me to go see your mother.”
“For the afternoon! I was back in time for pizza, beer and movies, just like we’d planned.”
“Yes, well I missed you anyway.” He said with a smirk.
I just shook my head before leaning forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. At the last minute he turned his head slightly and my lips landed at the corner of his mouth. A strange thrill that I didn’t expect ran through me. Justin? Since when did I feel anything like that for him? He’d been my friend for nearly five years, had helped me through the most devastating time of my life, and had become one of the most important people in my world. When I came back from that trip to New York when I’d scattered Vance’s ashes, Justin and I had mended fences and I set about being a better friend to him. The kind of friend he’d been to me, the kind he needed me to be. I finally held up my end of the bargain of being in our support group of two. We grew ever closer, and I’d come to think of him as the big brother I’d never had. Yes, I had always thought him attractive, but was I actually attracted to him and never realized it?
I stepped back hesitantly and looked up at him with new eyes. He smiled at me warmly, and I suddenly felt bashful. Something unusual was definitely going on. I felt flustered and awkward, and… ah hell. I felt like I always used to around a good looking guy I found myself attracted to. I didn’t quite know what to do, so I did the only logical thing I could think of.
“Well… I guess I’ll be seeing you on Tuesday. Or maybe Wednesday. Or…um…whenever.” I said as I quickly rounded the back of my car and headed toward the driver’s side door in full-on retreat.
Justin chuckled under his breath and slowly followed. I hopped in and shut the door, then rolled down the window after starting the engine as fast as I could. He bent down and leaned in my window.
“You take care of yourself and have a good time, Peaches. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back,” he said as he leaned forward a little more and planted a soft kiss directly on my lips. I sat there slack-jawed as he straightened with the cockiest smile on his face. He tapped on the roof of the car before turning and starti
ng toward his motorcycle which was parked at the curb.
After a few stunned seconds, I called after him “Uh, yeah. I will. I’ll call you when I get back!”
He raised his arm over his head, waving in acknowledgment before throwing his leg over the bike and strapping on his helmet. I simply sat there watching as he started the engine and drove off down the street without a glance back.
I looked at myself in the rear-view mirror and saw my eyes were bright and there was a pink tinge to my cheeks. I immediately scrubbed my hands over my face, shook my head to clear it of the daze that had settled over me and put the car in reverse to back out of the driveway.
It was a very good thing that there were a number of alcoholic beverages in my near future. I had a feeling I was going to need each and every one of them.
Mimi’s story will continue…
Acknowledgments:
Several wonderful people helped me bring this effort to fruition through their generosity of time and spirit. Without their help and support, this book would never see the light of day, and a dream of mine would remain unfulfilled. For this reason, my undying gratitude belongs to:
Chris Nelson for inspiring the design for the cover art for this book. His vision really captured exactly what I wanted.
John Grace, Meg Martin and Christina Patz for answering the call when I needed readers.
Polett Villalta, for being the honest voice I could rely upon without question, always knowing she would give it to me straight. Look Pol, no salad!
Vicki Lowe-Johnson, for making me feel like a rock-star while reading and giving me feedback. Your criticism, if I can even call it that, kept me editing like a fiend because I couldn’t wait to hear what you’d say next.
Nick Marsh, for being everything I needed and then some. Beta reader, editor, qualifier ninja, cheerleader, ego-booster, walrus slapper, Oreo thief, and the best friend I could ever have hoped to have.
Nickii Fowler, for being more to this book, and to me, than this page could ever possibly contain. Reader, editor, guide, assistant, inspiration, role-model, hero, and the best Aunt in the world, if even the old bat gets me lost every time we get in the car together.
My husband, Joe, for being my support, my love, my partner for nearly two decades (I guess I’ll be keeping you after all) and encouraging me through this process every step of the way.
The three most awesome and attractive children ever to grace the face of this planet. You make my life worthwhile every day. No matter how many times I threaten to sell you, I promise I never will.
@TheEnderBookshelf on Wattpad.com who is currently taking the fan fiction world by storm. Check out this amazing young author and give her a follow. She is on her way to big things. She may be young, but the quality of her descriptiveness inspires me to do better and to work harder.
Finally, I want to thank a certain group of women who have become my personal “Justice League” of Superhero authors: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff, Alice Clayton, Christina Lauren, Emma Chase, Chloe Neill and Darynda Jones. Each one has delighted and entertained me through some very dark times… and made me hope that maybe, just maybe I might someday be able to brush the hems of their capes (and in my wildest fantasies share a cocktail or six). Thank you from the bottom of the heart of one grateful and eternal fan.
Shattered Perfection (The Perfection Series Book 1) Page 28