Through the Mist

by Ferrell, Cece

  “Yeah?”

  “I know you’ve only been gone a few weeks, but I fucking miss you.”

  “Me too, Jos. Me too.”

  Somehow, in spite of all the things we had talked about that day, just hearing how much she missed me made all the difference.

  Two

  I was on my back floating in the water. The air was cold and crisp and sprinkles of water from the undulating waves coated my skin. I should’ve been terrified, alone in the expanse of ocean. Instead, I was filled with the sweetest, most liberating feeling. Like I was home, exactly where I belonged.

  Time passed and I was content. Until something smacked at my leg, jarring me. I sat up and opened my eyes only to see a dark shadow below the water and a familiar-shaped fin above, circling me. I opened my mouth to scream but my throat constricted and all I could manage was a strangled sob. I was going to die.

  I closed my eyes in preparation for my fate and instead a squealing sound hit my ears as something nudged my body. My eyes flashed open and instead of the shark I was expecting, I made eye contact with a dolphin. My head was filled with thoughts that were not my own, like the creature was communicating with me telepathically, urging me to climb on its back. So I did.

  After a while other figures came into view, bobbing in the water. As we neared, I was able to make out the forms of two other people. We grew closer still, and I could see Dan. The dolphin stopped, letting me slide off his back before he swam away. Dan smiled at me and held out his hand, but I was hesitant to take it.

  My skin began to heat under the weight of someone else’s gaze. I turned, and there was another man, also floating nearby. He was incredibly handsome, and his gaze was penetrating. I had never seen this man before in my life—I would have remembered if I had. You did not forget a face like this, and you did not forget the emotions he brought out in me.

  It was like gravity or magnetism, and I couldn’t break the connection. It was as though deep inside some hidden part of me, I knew him, I recognized him. Something dormant in me woke up in his proximity.

  I finally tore my eyes away from him and noticed his body was different from mine and everyone else’s. I could almost see through it, and though he appeared solid, it was obvious he wasn’t. My brain couldn’t make sense of it. I looked back to Dan, and the difference between the substantiality of him and this other man only became more glaring.

  They both reached their arms out to me, and against my will, I took both of their hands at the same time. My gaze kept ping-ponging between the two men I held in my grasp. I was drawn to both, as though there were magnets under each of our skin creating an actual, physical pull to my husband and the man I didn’t know but recognized with every fiber of my being.

  This was how I rode the gently swelling waves, me between these two men who were splitting my heart right down the center.

  Three

  I woke with a start, completely disoriented. It took a minute for me to get my bearings and realize I was in our room in our new house.

  I usually forgot the details of my dreams as soon as I woke up, but not this one. It was perhaps the most vivid dream I had ever had. I could remember every single part of it. It was strange and frightening and comforting, all at once.

  I couldn’t help but wonder who the man was. Had I possibly seen him in passing once, just smiled at him and forgotten all about it? No. I knew with complete certainty that if I’d ever laid eyes on this man, I would never have forgotten him.

  I always hated when the lingering emotions of a dream stayed with me after waking, making it all seem so real. I never believed in past lives or fated connections that seemed controlled by the hands of God, but sometimes my strong emotional reaction to dreams made me consider the possibility. It often seemed like the only logical explanation as to why sometimes the emotions I experienced while dreaming felt so much more real than anything that happened while awake.

  I sighed, turned on my back and slowly opened my eyes. My mind was still muddled with sleep, and I was having trouble disengaging from the dream world I had just woken from. I just couldn’t forget the other man, his eyes, the way his body looked like I could almost see through him but still touch him at the same time. What struck me most was the intense look in his eyes, imploring me to go to him, to not look away, to not turn back to Dan.

  “You okay, babe?” Dan’s voice, still husky with sleep, cut through my mental haze. “Crazy dream?”

  “I think so. I can’t remember what happened. I just woke up feeling strange.” The lie tasted terrible in my mouth, but I was still trying to make sense of it all.

  “I’m sorry. The feeling will pass, it always does.”

  I simply nodded my head and tried to burrow my body further into Dan’s embrace. My body shook and warmed with his laughter before he groaned, disengaging himself and rolling onto his back. I looked up at him and my stomach fluttered at the sight of him, as it always did.

  He was attractive in that boy-next-door kind of way, a combination of handsome and adorable. The first time I saw him I remembered thinking he looked like the adult version of the surfers I’d grown up with: a little taller than average and lean with well-defined muscles. His hair was dark blond with hints of gold.

  His symmetrical face held deep, blue eyes and his strong jawline that was almost always clean-shaven gave way to lips that were soft, full, and utterly lush. His teeth were almost completely straight, except for some crookedness on the bottom from years of forgetting to wear his retainer. For some reason, that imperfection made him approachable, though his charming, boyish smile didn’t hurt.

  “As much as I’d love to lie in bed with you all day, I’ve gotta get up and start getting ready, or I’m going to be late for my official first day. That’s not the kind of impression I want to make.” He got up and made his way through the closet and into the master bath.

  Dan specialized in cryptanalysis and the creation and implementation of biometric technology. When we first got serious he tried explaining the basics of what he did, but science and math were never my strong points, and I always got lost and confused. It had something to do with making sure companies had the best and most advanced security in place to protect their highly confidential information.

  So much of what he worked on was incredibly secret and often classified if he was on a government project. The details were protected by non-disclosure agreements, non-compete contracts, and a lot of other legal documents. It used to be really frustrating to not discuss his day at work with him because of how limited he was in what he could tell me, but I realized pretty early on that the information would be lost on me anyway, and I got over it.

  While I couldn’t explain to anyone asking what he did for a living in more than a few words, I knew that Dan was extremely good at what he did and one of the quickest at the firm to lead the number of projects he had. I was very proud of him and how far he had come in such a short time, but I thought a small part of him had been hoping he would have started his own firm by now.

  He never complained, but we both felt this was in the cards for him, and that one day, possibly after this assignment, he might have the means and reputation to make the big move on his own. I wanted him to have all the success and opportunities he desired.

  I dragged my body out of our warm bed and pulled the bench from the room into the entrance of the master bath so I could watch and talk to Dan as he shaved and got ready. I plopped down on it, leaning against the back, pulling my legs up to rest underneath me.

  “You’ve been going to the office for the last week and a half, hasn’t the first-day-jitters ship already sailed?”

  “That was all just prep work and meetings to finalize my paperwork and create a general plan for the project. Today is the day I meet my team and I find out exactly who I’m working for. I haven’t actually gone to the office yet. We’ve been meeting around town.”

  “That’s so weird to me. Where will you be working? Which village is the office locat
ed in?” Dan wet his face with warm water and began applying shaving lotion.

  The island we were living on was broken up into little villages, each with their own unique characteristics and personality.

  “Wait, why are you shaving? I thought you were going to keep the beard?” I asked in dismay.

  He laughed his deep, warm laugh as our eyes met in the mirror.

  “I thought about keeping the beard, but I think I’ll make a better first impression if I shave. Plus, in a day or two, I won’t be so clean-shaven.”

  We both knew I liked him best a little rough around the edges. It made his good looks a bit more approachable, made him come off less preppy and perfect.

  “I’m not sure where the office is or if I’ll even be working in one. Rogers said they were sending a car for me this morning.”

  He stopped talking, contorting his face to get the closest shave possible. I didn’t miss the pensive, slightly troubled look on his face.

  “I’m actually kind of nervous.”

  “Really? Have you ever been nervous starting a new project?”

  “Not since I first started. It’s strange walking into a project completely blind and I don’t know what to expect. You know me, I work best when I have all the information.”

  “True. This is the first time you’ve been completely on your own too, right? That can’t help either.” I readjusted my body, pulling my knees up to my chest and wrapping my arms around my legs.

  “Yeah, it is. It’s strange not having a team from the company here. The level of secrecy surrounding this project is beyond anything I’ve experienced. I don’t know… I think most of these feelings will go away after today,” he said almost to himself.

  I wasn’t used to him saying so much or expressing so much uncertainty. This was the most vulnerable I had ever seen him.

  “Do you ever get the feeling you’re on the verge of something big? Something that will make your life unrecognizable?” he asked, putting his razor down before placing his hands palms down on the counter, leaning over slightly, and turning his upper body in my direction.

  I got up and walked toward him, slipping under his arm, wrapping myself around his bare waist, leaning the small of my back against the counter. I lifted my head and looked him in the eye.

  “I do. I know exactly what you mean. And just so you know, I feel it too.”

  I placed a kiss on his chest over his heart as he leaned down and rested his forehead against mine for a moment before placing a light, sweet kiss on my lips. I couldn’t bear to tell him that the change I felt coming didn’t necessarily feel like a good thing.

  “Thank you for always being there for me, for always supporting me. I know it can’t be easy feeling like you always come second to my career.” He pulled me into a tight embrace. “It’s not true, you know. You don’t come second. I would choose you over this every time,” he whispered in my ear before pulling away and turning his attention back to his shaving.

  I settled back on the bench and felt the weight of Dan’s eyes on me again. I looked up at him smiling at me with affection in his eyes. I smiled back at him, but I knew it didn’t reach my eyes.

  I knew he believed what he had just said, but years of experience had told me it wasn’t true. His job always came first. Always. The birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays I spent alone only reinforced this.

  The decline in communication during previous projects did too. I had no reason to believe it would ever be any different, though I never stopped hoping. This move, this leap was made with the last bit of hope I had in me.

  I didn’t even blame him. This was his passion, his dream. He loved what he did. I’d known this about him when we met, when we started dating, and when we married. This wasn’t a surprise to me. I had never asked him to change or put me first, always believing it was a selfish thing to do to him.

  As the veil of denial I’d been living under cleared, I realized we were nearing a breaking point. The cracks in our foundation were becoming fissures, and I was holding on to the hope this time together would repair them before the damage became irreparable.

  Four

  After Dan left for work, I sat out on the balcony outside our bedroom for a while considering what I wanted to do with my day. I thought about driving around the island, checking out shops and galleries, but I just wasn’t into that idea. This was the first time in my adult life that I didn’t have a job and the free time while I figured out my next step was a novelty.

  I only knew I didn’t want to spend the day alone like I’d done since arriving. Marie, the owner of the B&B Dan and I had stayed at when we first got here, had extended an open invitation to visit her, and I figured today was as good a day as any to take her up on the offer.

  I got into our Tesla Model S and drove to the Madrona Bed and Breakfast. As the scenery passed by my window I once again couldn’t help but be in awe of how beautiful everything was. Massive trees and hills in more shades of green than I had ever seen surrounded me, magnificent and lush.

  I drove for a little bit before turning off onto a smaller road. While not very well paved, it was well taken care of. I soon pulled up to a large house with a barn not much smaller than the main house. Several cars were parked in front of a short picket fence which might have been white at one time but was now varying shades of brown. While in most cases it would make the fence look decrepit, the distressing made it look charming. Shrubs and tulips ran all along the bottom of it, and the simple beauty made me smile.

  The main house of the Madrona was a lovely light blue shade with lots of windows trimmed in white and a large covered porch area in front through the gate. The property was bordered by trees that looked as though they had been there forever.

  I made my way into the living room with comfy-looking chairs, a fireplace, a table with games stacked underneath, and the wall opposite taken up by a large built-in bookcase holding more games and hundreds of books. I made my way over toward the books and ran my hands along the spines as I read the titles. The room filled with scents of fall: pumpkin, cinnamon, and utter deliciousness.

  I walked through the rest of the living room into a good-size dining room and called out to Marie before I hit the door leading to the kitchen.

  “Hey there, Ros! I was hoping you’d stop by one of these days,” Marie responded cheerfully as I walked into the room.

  My jaw dropped a bit that she remembered me before I caught myself. She was standing at the huge island kneading dough, the sleeves of her blouse pushed up past her elbows, her hands covered in flour.

  Marie looked up, smiled, and blew a strand of her straight, ash-blonde hair out of her face. There was something about this woman that made me feel at ease. Maybe it was the warmth of her smile or the kindness she seemed to radiate.

  “I hope this is a good time.” I sat down at one of the stools lined up in front of the island.

  “It’s a great time. How have you been? How are you liking things here on Orcas Island?”

  “I’m liking it. I actually haven’t gotten out much. I was starting to feel a bit stir-crazy and figured I’d stop by.”

  Marie nodded her head at that, looked up at me and laughed. It was a musical sound. It lightened up her entire face and made her look younger than her sixty years. “Well, we need to change that then, don’t we?”

  It was more a statement than an actual question, and she went on to tell me about the island, the places I didn’t want to miss out on and all the hidden gems only a local knew. I had a feeling this was something incredibly important to her and if given a chance, she likely could have spent the rest of the day telling me the history of the island.

  It finally hit me why I liked this woman so much. The warmth toward strangers, the baking, the joy and passion evident in every word that passed her lips. She reminded me of what I imagined my mother would have been like had she lived long enough.

  Ideas began to flow through my head about how to turn Marie into a friend. Then I starte
d to feel self-conscious about the schemes I was hatching up. The forgotten feelings I’d had in high school started to emerge. I’d been the new kid at school trying to adjust to not knowing anyone, trying to find my way in an unfamiliar place, not having my very best friend there with me to help ease the transition. The new, awkward girl attempting to deal with the fact that my mom was gone and I would never see her again. I would never hear her voice or feel her arms wrapped around me.

  Like Marie, my mom had had a musical laugh. She had also been an amazing baker and more times than not had something delicious and warm waiting for me when I got home from school each day. I hadn’t realized until I was older what a treat it was, how rare and special.

  I’d become adept at pushing the memories of my mother down to the darkest recesses of my mind. I could go most days without even a thought of her entering my consciousness. Sometimes all it took was something small like a scent or an image to spark a memory. It wasn’t ever just one or two. It would be several, dozens sometimes, flooding me until I was drowning in them.

  The way she combed my hair gently every night, careful to not pull on it when one of the curls became knotted. The way she would then braid it into pigtails, not so tight that it would hurt my head, and not so loose that it would be a mess by morning.

  The way we would read our favorite books together, her reading to me when I was younger, then us taking turns reading to each other as I got older, snuggled in my bed, each reading a chapter a night.

  The way she would always ask with genuine care and interest how my day was and what had transpired when I got home from school. She always listened intently, first at stories of bullies and teachers, and, as I grew older and entered my pre-teen and early teen years, stories about which boy I had a crush on and who was dating whom, always without judgment.