Love Never Dies

by Loren Lockner

  It was now time to move on to the next stage of the game so he made great fanfare of trying to untie the ribbon. Her fingers twitched in impatience, unable to conceal her acute desire to grab the large package from him and undo it herself because he was so blasted slow! But Julia knew the rules as well as he; one had to be patient. The giver had to suffer while the receiver dawdled and prolonged the gift-giving process, determined to torment the helpless observer.

  Seth finally managed to untie the metallic ribbon curled so beautifully around the package before slowly ripping apart the golden red wrapping paper depicting bright Christmas bells. He lifted the lid to the sturdy box apprehensively, staring at the item wrapped securely in bubble wrap. As Seth pulled it out he realized it was a picture frame. Julia had stuffed tissue paper all around the painting to keep it from rattling. As he slowly unwound the bubble wrap his eyes widened in acute appreciation. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes upon and Seth gulped painfully.

  The black and white pencil sketch was simplistic in style but precise in detail and he remembered the pose from an almost forgotten photograph. It had been one of those unique results from Paul’s countless random snapping of the trio as they worked on his condominium. Seth had taken a breather and Julia had flounced down beside him, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning back her head while he gazed down at her. Paul had immediately dubbed it ‘the moment before a kiss.’

  Now a beautiful sketch someone had painstakingly drawn from the original photo and enlarged to a full eighteen inches by eighteen inches emerged from the wrap. The artist had skillfully captured the love and adoration in Seth’s eyes as Julia had smiled back, serene and content in her lover’s arms.

  “This is the nicest present I’ve ever received,” said Seth sincerely. He leaned over the beautifully framed sketch cradled in his arms and kissed her tenderly upon the lips.

  “You must help me find a special place to hang this lovely piece of art. How did you manage to find someone so skillful?”

  “Down at the beachfront,” Julia replied, gazing up at him from her position on the floor. “Lots of artists along the promenade sell their wares and I watched this one man for a long time as he sketched a little boy on a tricycle from a photograph. I realized this would be the perfect present to give you for Christmas. Johan was all booked up, but when I returned with the photo he agreed to try to complete it by Christmas. I only got it back two days ago. You do like it don’t you?”

  Seth touched her hair gently, tucking a wayward blonde strand behind her ear. “I love it,” he said sincerely. “Help me find a place to hang it.” They strolled through the condominium hand-in-hand to determine which wall would be the best to display his prize. Seth finally decided upon the spot right above his bed.

  “This way I can gaze at it every night before I go to sleep,” he stated. Within minutes they’d found a hammer and nail; and the Monet print, previously hanging above his bed, was dispatched to another open section of the room. “Lovely,” he said sincerely, giving her a warm hug as they wandered back to the warmth of the fire and sank upon the couch.

  Seth suddenly snapped his fingers. “Oh no! I forgot to give you your special gift.”

  Julia’s face lit up and she clapped her hands delightedly. “I just knew it! I knew there had to be something else.”

  “Greedy little thing. Didn’t you like the set of cookbooks you requested, or the gift certificate for that trendy bookstore you’re always spouting on about? And I thought the jacket was simply stunning.”

  “Oh it was,” she agreed enthusiastically. “The red wool coat feels just like cashmere and is so stylish, but I had an inkling there was something else. So what is it?”

  Seth gave a secret smile and disappeared for a few moments, finally returning from the recesses of his bedroom with a long slender package resembling the kind a florist uses when they deliver a dozen long-stemmed roses. The package was feather-light to her touch and Julia caressed the gold foil before venturing a guess.

  “Well it’s very, very light. Perhaps it’s some sort of garment.” Seth leaned back upon the beige couch and folded one leg across the other before giving his dark head a resolute shake.

  “Wrong. Would you like to venture another guess?”

  “What is this, twenty questions?” snorted Julia in mock grumpiness.

  “I’ll give you two more guesses and if you don’t figure it out I’ll just have to take it back.”

  “Wise guy huh? Okay, so it’s not an article of clothing? Ah ha,” said Julia, lifting a red polished fingernail. “You know that I have been dying to see the new production of Evita at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion; is that what it is, a pair of tickets?”

  Seth mimicked a fake game show buzzer. “While that’s an excellent guess, I’m afraid you’re dead wrong. I will, however, keep that in mind as a future excursion for us.”

  “Alright,” said Julia, ticking off what it was not upon her fingers. “It’s not an article of clothing, a fancy little negligee or something?”

  Seth lifted his eyebrows provocatively. “Now that’s an idea,” he quipped.

  “And it’s not tickets to any production at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. Hmm, that doesn’t leave much.”

  “Just the whole world,” reflected Seth watching her with affection.

  It was time Julia got down to some serious guessing so she pushed up the sleeves of her UCLA sweatshirt. “Alright, this guess is going to be it, and if I win and discover the right answer you have to give me a hundred kisses.”

  “Ooh,” said Seth, “am I allowed to give you some hints?”

  “Nope, no cheating allowed. I either do this legitimately or not at all. Let me see,” she tapped her cheek thinking hard. “It’s got to be something I really like from that overly smug expression on your self-satisfied face. Let me see, let me see.” A strange idea passed over her face and she shook her head as if chiding herself. “No, you couldn’t possibly have done that; besides it wouldn’t be allowed, not in the least.”

  “And what is that?” asked Seth, almost afraid she’d somehow guessed his special gift.

  “Do you remember when we were in the mall a couple of weeks ago and popped into the pet store and saw the cutest little puppy in the world?”

  “Really,” said Seth nonchalantly, brushing an imaginary speck of lint off his spotless white shirt. Suddenly Julia knew she’d hit the nail right on the head.

  “It’s a gift certificate for some sort for a puppy isn’t it?”

  Seth cleared his throat shakily. It was as if Julia’s thoughts had meandered through his mind, and try as he might to disguise the perfect gift, she’d still stumbled upon it.

  “I think you’d better open the package,” he said softly, and Julia made swift work of it. Inside the florist box nestled another smaller box also beautifully wrapped in gold foil. Julia chortled in delight and unwrapped the next package. Inside lurked another; a small square box so lightweight it clearly contained only paper. She lifted the lid and inside, rolled like a precious piece of parchment bound by gold foil ribbon, was a white piece of paper. Julia slid the ribbon off and unrolled the letter, reading the short note out loud.

  “My dearest Julia. You’re to be the happy recipient of a new Keeshond puppy, available for immediate adoption upon the sixth of January. The litter contains four females and two males, and you’re allowed to pick the puppy of your choice.” Julia shrieked and threw herself onto his lap as Seth rolled back his head and laughed, his straight teeth parted in utter contentment.

  “It’s the perfect gift, the perfect gift! I’ve always wanted a puppy but…” Her voice trailed off and she froze, still perched upon his knees. “We live in an apartment and I don’t think they allow pets.”

  “Well your landlady, Mrs. Nelson, seems to think otherwise. I told her I wanted to buy my girlfriend a puppy for Christmas and the lovely lady indicated she might make an exception since she herself has two poodles. Then I started te
lling her all about the Keeshond breed; how they originated in Holland and were used to patrol the barges as they drifted down the canals. To make a long story short, she as a girl raised many Keeshonds of her own. In fact, her father had been a breeder of the furry dogs, and when I mentioned what kind of puppy I’d chosen, she agreed you could have one, declaring the Keeshond is the most noble of dogs since it rarely barks and is always polite to strangers and other dogs. We’ll pick up your present on the sixth since the puppy will be eight weeks old. I just hope Angie doesn’t mind her roommate receiving a Christmas present that isn’t housebroken.”

  “She better not mind,” growled Julia, looping her arms affectionately around his neck and giving him a long sweet kiss. Seth enjoyed the first kiss so much he bent his lips down for another until the distant shrill jar of his cellular phone caused him to flinch.

  “Saved by the bell,” he chuckled, and gently moved Julia from his lap onto the soft leather cushions of the sofa. “Now just don’t forget where we were. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  He dashed to his cell phone which rested upon the mahogany dresser next to his bed. It was Mandy Gaskill.

  “We’ve got a tail on Adam Gable,” she said without preamble, “and I just wanted you to know that your cousin Lucas is safe and has been moved to another province in Canada, though I have no inkling as to where that might be.” Seth gave a sharp sigh of relief.

  “If anything I think we’ve bought you some time. We’re going to tail this Gable fellow and find out what his game is. I still wouldn’t be surprised if he’s after your vehicle.”

  Seth gave what could only be classified as a dismissive grunt. “I have my doubts about that.”

  “Anyway I want you to watch yourself. You have a weapon?”

  “Yes,” said Seth slowly.

  “Then I suggest you start packing it. One can’t take their own security for granted. Like I said, we’ll tail him and do the best we can to keep you safe until we find out what is going on. Have you told the woman?”

  “You mean Julia,” he said softly, her very name a caress upon his lips. “No I haven’t. I’ll wait until I get your final report. Just keep my cousin safe.”

  “And regarding the other party? What do you want me to do about him?”

  Seth gave a sharp intake of breath. “Don’t move on that at the present moment. And whatever you do, don’t tell Lucas what’s happening. Let him live thinking I’m safe. Promise me that okay?”

  “He, as well as all your family, has a right to know,” said Mandy stiffly.

  “Neither he, nor anyone else for that matter, has a right or a need to know. You and Angus promised me to keep all this quiet and I’m going to hold you to that. I’ll stay in touch.”

  “I’d like you to fax me tomorrow with all the names of people employed at your firm, even though we may have already checked them out; we’re going to double check again. And Seth, the woman you’re involved with, do you think you could possibly see a little less of her or maybe…?”

  “When hell freezes over! Whatever you’re contemplating just put it out of your mind! There’s no way I’ll stop seeing Julia Morris, now or ever. And about my tail Stan Garten? He needs to reveal himself to me so I know friend from foe. Tomorrow morning, at seven a.m., I’ll make a trip to the mini-mart at Cornwall andFifth to buy a newspaper. Have him relate the code word to me so I have a face to go with the name.”

  “Got it,” said Mandy, deciding she’d gotten off easy, and hung up on the phone.

  The next morning Julia barely stirred as Seth kissed her on the forehead. She opened her eyes languidly.

  “You sleep, love; I’m just whisking off to get a newspaper. When I return, I’ll make you breakfast in bed. Would you like that?”

  Julia sighed and reached a finger up to caress his cheek. “I’ll be waiting,” she answered sleepily before drifting off once again.

  The Quick Stop was already busy for a Sunday morning. At 7 a.m. Seth moved to the magazine section and browsed the sports and car magazines, keeping a watchful eye upon the stream of customers who sauntered in on their countless Sunday morning missions. One harassed lady wearing outdated sharp-pointed reading glasses bought a can of cat food and a plastic container of orange juice. Another balding man, who looked like he hadn’t gone to bed the previous night, headed toward the antacid section and purchased two packages of the strongest tablets available. Seth watched all in a bemused manner, waiting for the one person who could give him some peace of mind.

  Definitely not that one thought Seth, as a harried mother with two toddlers trailing her and crying for breakfast scooped up a loaf of bread and a half-gallon of milk before hurrying to the cash register. An older man waltzed in and slammed down twenty dollars on top of the counter.

  “Unleaded,” he shouted before running out as the overworked sales clerk wagged her red-tinted hair and punched at the computer keyboard. Seth noticed a skinny man with a huge Adam’s apple, dressed in blue overalls, pick out two blue energy drinks. Because of his preoccupation he totally missed the next man who quietly entered the store. Tall and in his mid-to-late thirties, he wore a heavy black motorcycle jacket. A bushy black moustache and thick hair growing slightly silver at the sides afforded him a distinguished appearance; though the dimple in his chin suggested a reckless nature. His eyes surveyed the store’s few customers before zeroing in on Seth. He studied the tall architect for a long moment before finally strolling over to the magazine rack to pick up a computer gaming magazine. He cast a sideways glance at Seth and nonchalantly winked one brown eye.

  “You wouldn’t by any chance know if they have any articles on the computer game Simon Says?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” said Seth, eying the muscular man. He noticed the telltale bulge inside the biker’s leather jacket and immediately relaxed. “I’ll certainly keep an eye out for any articles on that game and let you know.” He replaced his roadster magazine, and picking up a Sunday newspaper paid the overweight clerk before waltzing out the store. So that was Stan Garten and suddenly Seth felt immensely relieved.

  Chapter 5

  The next few days were an immensely pleasant aftermath of the Christmas holiday. There was shopping with Julia and her mother, a couple rounds of golf with Jim Morris, and on the thirtieth of December a visit to Gaviota to look over the six puppies, one of which Julia planned to adopt within a week. Twice Seth spotted Stan Garten in the distance, and while unobtrusive, he was an obvious presence. Seth did not observe the stalker’s silver Lexus again and began to relax.

  As they walked up to the Mediterranean house with its well-manicured lawn Seth gave Julia a word of advice.

  “I’ve heard that when picking a puppy you should sit down on your haunches, outstretch your hand, and see which puppy comes to you first. That’s the one you’ll want.”

  “Like the puppy will pick me? So you are an expert,” she said, giving him a warm hug, her arm remaining to drape loosely around his waist. She could never get enough of touching him and that warm tug signaling his undying devotion was always present in her heart, whether with him or not. So, as she and her soul mate waited before the elegant oak door after ringing the doorbell, Julia realized she’d never been happier in her entire life.

  A petite woman with short gray-brown bobbed hair and standing scarcely five-foot tall beckoned them inside.

  “I’m Mrs. Alistair,” she said, her chin dimpling, “and you must be the lucky young lady who’s waiting for her brand new puppy. Come inside and I’ll show you the lot.”

  They followed her though a well-furnished open plan house with cool wicker furniture and spotless cream tiles leading to wide sliding glass doors opening upon a spacious grass lawn. Six furry little puppies whose tails curled over their furry backs frisked about a makeshift pen under the shade of a large mulberry tree as their proud mother sniffed around the expansive garden.

  “Oh, they’re adorable!” cried Julia, resisting the urge to claim each and every one.


  “I’ll tell you what I will do,” said Mrs. Alistair. “Just sit over there on that lawn chair while I open the little gate here and let them out. Watch them play and interact with each other until you decide which one you want. There are four females and two males. If you’re not planning to breed your dog in the future you might want to pick one of the females. Both the males are show quality.”

  “Don’t get a male,” suggested Seth quietly. “Choose a nice sweet female; they’ll be smaller and easier to manage in your apartment.” He gave no other advice, content to fold his arms and watch Julia delightedly examine the gray puppies. The minute the gate creaked open the six shot into the huge yard as if they had never been free before in their lives. They sniffed about, dashing here and there, their hind legs often functioning separately from their forelegs, which occasionally caused the overeager pups to land in jumbled heaps upon one another.

  Four of the rambunctious puppies totally ignored them but two of the smaller females hovered about, examining the quietly observant humans. Finally, one of the awkward females tentatively moved forward. Her short gray puppy fur had not yet given way to the long silver and black fur of her proud mother. She edged closer and peered directly at Julia before giving a high little bark and sitting down upon Julia’s foot. Delighted, Julia swooped down and snatched up the puppy that wiggled her short legs wildly. As Julia pulled her closer the dog leaned forward and gave her newly chosen mistress a quick lick of her small pink tongue.

  “This one,” Julia announced excitedly to Seth. “This is the one I want!”

  Seth smiled indulgently. “Compared to the others she seems quite peaceful,” observed Seth, watching the other puppies dash about. The little Keeshond seemed content to be held upon Julia’s lap. “And just what are you going to name your new found friend?”

  “Hmm,” mused Julia. “Such a peaceful dog needs a special name. We’ve been reading Russian fairytales in class and…” Julia snapped her fingers and the little puppy’s head shot up. “Mira! Doesn’t Mir mean peace in Russian? Since this is a girl, I’ll just add an ‘a’ and call her Mira.” She nuzzled the dog’s soft fur and received a quick lick as a reward.