Muse

by M. Lynne Cunning

  Late last night, she had lain in bed in the darkness and stared out at the full white moon that hovered like a glowing beacon in the clear blackened sky. The moon had been the only company she had while she tried to call Michael’s cell phone, repeatedly getting his voicemail. She knew he sometimes turned his phone off at the ranch or left it in the office, so it wouldn’t accidentally be broken or wasn’t constantly interrupting him, but it was late. Really late. Something must have gone wrong during his and Ellis’s workday to hold them up for that long.

  Lauren dragged her tired body off the bed and put on her slippers. Rubbing her eyes as she went, she opened the bedroom door and let the soft light of daylight cascade into the darkened room.

  “Michael?” she called, as she headed down the small hallway toward the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon wafted toward her and Lauren couldn’t help but sigh at the welcoming scent.

  “Hey, you’re awake.”

  Lauren rounded the corner into the kitchen to see Michael pulling a second plate from the cupboard. Steam rose from the breakfast food as he evenly dished it out onto the plates and offered one to her. “Coffee’s ready, too.”

  Lauren glanced longingly toward the percolating coffee pot and saw a mug already sitting out for her. Michael knew, as much as she didn’t like to admit it, she needed a coffee in the morning. The need was one she could not explain enough. She wasn’t one of those people who drank coffee all day, every day, but first thing in the morning, there was nothing she needed more than a big mug of steaming hot black coffee.

  “Seems you’ve thought of everything. Thank you.” She set her plate down to pour a cup of coffee. When she was done, she turned to see Michael already seated at the dining room table, coffee mug in hand, staring into the living room at the television set. The morning news. It was part of their routine. Get up, get coffee, and eat food while getting caught up on the good and bad going on around the world. Lauren looked forward to this part of their daily life together, especially when Michael didn’t seem in a rush to get out the door. This morning seemed to be one of those days they could enjoy each other’s company and idly banter about what they saw on the news together.

  “Another school shooting, can you believe that?” Michael said between mouthfuls without tearing his eyes from the television screen.

  Lauren turned to look at what he was referring to and saw the tragic scene. The cameraman was focusing on the area outside a high school that had been barricaded off with bright yellow caution tape. On either side of the tape, police, ambulance attendants, and civilians were scurrying about with terrified and saddened expressions on their faces. In an instant, their world had been torn to pieces forever, never to be the same again.

  “It’s so sad, Michael. It almost makes me want to turn off the TV and never turn it back on.” She took a sip from the coffee. Michael had made it the way she liked it. She preferred dark roast coffee with a bit more added to the filter to make it that much stronger. Michael preferred light roast, milder. When he stole a glance in her direction after her first sip, he offered her a lopsided smirk that let her know he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “You’re always so dramatic, Lauren.” He said it jovially, even though there was a ring of truth in his words. She just waved her free hand dismissively while raising the mug to her lips again.

  A silence fell between them and, just like the news broadcast that quickly turned to a report on a fraud scam taking the elderly population by storm in Dallas, their conversation changed too when Michael reached for the remote control on the table and flicked off the television. He turned in his chair to set his gaze on her.

  “Something’s on your mind.”

  Lauren looked down at her coffee cup for a moment, hesitant to proceed. She didn’t want to make it sound worse than it was, but she also wanted him to understand where she was coming from.

  “There is, actually,” she began. “But I don’t want you to think I’m saying this for reasons that aren’t actually my true reasons for wanting to do what I want to do.”

  A small chuckle escaped Michael’s lips as he set his coffee mug down, obviously amused. “Lauren, you’d better explain to me what it is you’re trying to say because, frankly, your cryptic warning makes very little sense to me. Just say it, will you?” He gave her an encouraging glance before taking another bite of his food and she scoffed at her own nervousness.

  He was her husband, so why in the hell was she so nervous? Because he could take her idea completely the wrong way and they could end up in a catastrophic argument again, that’s why. Lauren didn’t like conflict, especially with Michael. They’d been so good together for four years, five and a half if she counted the time they had spent dating before getting married, so the tension between them now was wearing on her nerves and her heart.

  “Okay, here’s the thing.” She paused and looked at him, but his expression was blank as he leaned back in his chair and prepared to listen to what she had to say. “I have been doing a little research online about some courses that are being offered in creative writing and the writing of fiction. I’m really struggling with this next novel, Michael. I think if I was able to throw myself into a different atmosphere, a different routine, and different projects, maybe I could knock down the walls around the writer’s block that seems to be plaguing me. I want to get back to being able to write and feel good about it while I’m doing it. I not only want to take a course, I think I need to.”

  Michael didn’t answer right away, making her think that perhaps he was thinking exactly what she didn’t want him to think, that she was only doing this to get away from him. She fought the urge to blurt out that it wasn’t because of him, but just in case that wasn’t what he was thinking, she stayed silent and let him form his own response.

  “How long is the course?”

  Questions were a good sign. “Four months, that’s all.”

  “You said it would put you in a different atmosphere. Where do you need to go for this course?”

  Her expression was undoubtedly a dead giveaway that this was the part she’d been hesitant to divulge. “New York.” She watched as he turned to stare out the window, the silence becoming awkward for her. Fear of an impending argument engulfed her.

  “Aren’t there any closer courses you could take, Lauren? I mean, do you really need to travel over fifteen hundred miles just to take a course in writing? Hell, you’ve already published a book.” He exhaled heavily and turned back to face her.

  “I could, Mike, I know that, but the course in New York at Columbia University is really recommended amongst people who’ve attended it as well as folks in the publishing industry, and the curriculum looks fantastic. Besides, I really, really think that getting away from my everyday routine and having a change of scenery might help me get a better handle on my writing.” She paused and stared into Michael’s eyes, holding his gaze. “It might help us a bit, too.”

  Michael didn’t blink as he stared back at her. “Do we need help?”

  She looked down at her coffee mug and untouched food, anything to take her eyes off his sad expression, which made it seem as if she’d just told him someone had died. “Maybe,” was all she could manage. Michael stood up and came around to her side of the table, silently holding out his hand to her. She placed her hand in his and he gently pulled her to her feet, and then into him, the heat from his chest radiating through to Lauren’s cheek as she rested her head against him.

  “If it will help you, help us even, then go.” His words sounded pained as he stroked his hand through her hair. Or was he actually upset over this? Perhaps she just wanted him to be. Lauren laced her fingers together after sliding her hands around his hips, trying to prevent tears from welling in her eyes.

  “It’s only for four months, Mike.”

  “I know. You sure you’ll be okay in a big city like that, though?”

  Lauren chuckled against his chest. The thought had already crossed her mind, too. “I’m t
elling you, Michael, four months of city lights and bumper to bumper traffic and I’ll be begging to come back to our little rural life here.”

  “That’s what I’m banking on.”

  She lifted her head to look up at him. His eyes were soft and his expression warm. They would be okay, she knew it. He looked sincere, even hopeful. His tender kiss against her lips confirmed it.

  CHAPTER 4

  Autumn crept into Texas suddenly and it was surprisingly chilly in the evenings. Lauren had had to get things in order relatively quickly in preparation for her trip across the country to attend the prestigious writing course. She still couldn’t believe she was going. Perhaps the most pleasant surprise was Michael’s helpfulness to get her what she needed.

  Once the decision to attend the course had been made, there were very few things he was hesitant to help with. And when it came down to her accommodations at the school for the next four months, it was actually his idea to use some of the money they’d been saving in order to build another barn at the ranch to pay the pricier fee and allow Lauren to live in a dormitory room all to herself. The idea of not having a roommate and being able to spread her books out as far as she’d like and work on her stories as long as she desired was extremely appealing.

  She packed up only what she felt she needed and was able to reduce her belongings to a large two-wheeled luggage case and a big overnight bag. That made the flight to New York a bit easier, but she still didn’t like handing over her luggage to be packed into the cargo area of the plane. While she was thankful to be able to take the overnight bag as a carry-on, the thought of what she would do if her wheeled luggage got lost almost drove her crazy. She let Michael know it, too, via cell phone at the airport.

  “If they lose it…”

  On the other end, Michael just laughed. “I think you’re losing it, Lauren. Just calm down, it’ll be fine. Drama, drama, drama.” The sound of his chuckle in her ear helped to ease her tension a bit.

  “You know I hate airplanes,” Lauren retorted, as if that explained everything.

  “I know. I wish I could go with you, but I can’t. I have the—”

  “I know, I know. The ranch,” Lauren finished for him. It was always the ranch. An audible sigh of defeat was heard through the receiver.

  “Sorry,” she added, feeling childish for having made the snippy comment. “That was uncalled for. I guess I’m just stressed. Having you with me helps, that’s all. Sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I know how you feel about it, Lauren.”

  “I know how I feel about you, too.”

  “I feel the same way, babe.”

  Just as she started to answer, a beep sounded in her ear and Lauren pulled the phone away to look at the screen.

  “Dang it, I guess I should go. Nadine is on the other line.”

  “You haven’t told her yet, have you? When she called the other night, she made no reference to your move.” He didn’t sound mad, just unsure as to why Lauren wouldn’t have mentioned it. After all, Nadine was the closest thing Lauren had to a best friend.

  “I couldn’t bring myself to tell her,” was the best explanation she could come up with. She’d had numerous chances, but unlike Michael, Nadine was intuitive; she could and would pick up on the underlying reasons for such a trip. She was well aware of the tension and constant arguing that had been taking place over the last few months. She would undoubtedly have a few things to say once she realized Lauren was putting physical distance between her and Michael on top of the already present emotional distance.

  “Well,” he said with a hint of amusement, “it looks like you won’t have a choice but to tell her in about fifteen seconds. I love you, Lauren. Call me later.”

  “Love you, too.”

  She pressed a button on her phone to switch to the incoming call. “Nadine?”

  “Call me crazy, but why do I get the sneaking suspicion that you’ve been dodging my calls, darlin’?” Lauren squeezed her eyes shut. Nadine called everyone darling, but the sarcasm that accompanied the way she said it today announced the hurt she was feeling. Lauren had been avoiding her calls, unsure of what she would say. The only saving grace right now was that, no matter how Nadine reacted to the news of her departure, she wouldn’t be showing up on Lauren’s doorstep in a half hour to try to analyze the situation further or talk her out of going altogether.

  “Hey, Nadine. Look, there’s something I have got to tell you, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t return your calls but I didn’t—”

  “Just spit it out, darling, will you?”

  Lauren let out a slow breath to calm herself. She was thankful the elderly man in the seat beside her was sleeping. She didn’t need an audience to see how worked up she was getting over having to tell her friend something that could very easily be deemed trivial if explained the right way.

  “I’m about to get on a plane, Nadine. To New York. I enrolled in a creative writing course at Columbia for four months.” The words came out so fast, Lauren wasn’t sure Nadine would understand her. A long silence made her wonder if she’d hung up.

  “So, is this really about furthering your writing career or is it more about you and Michael? I’m not blind, Lauren.”

  Just like that. She didn’t even try to cover up the truth this time. “I think it’s a little bit of both all wrapped up in a nice neat package on its way to New York.”

  “And why exactly did you feel like you couldn’t just tell me that for the last week? I have a good notion to pretend I’m mad and rip a strip off you just because I’d be entitled to, but don’t fret, darlin’, I won’t.”

  Lauren breathed a sigh of relief and leaned her head back in her seat. “I appreciate that, Nadine.”

  “So, are you and Michael okay? I mean, is he okay with you leaving for a while?” Bewilderment could be heard in her tone. There were questions she obviously wanted to ask outright, but she was tactful enough to know that perhaps now wasn’t the right time.

  “We’re going to be okay. I think we both need this.”

  “I hope you’re right, darlin’.”

  Me too, Lauren thought anxiously, me too.

  CHAPTER 5

  Hours later, Lauren was comfortably settled in her chair, staring at her laptop screen, surrounded by generic bedroom furniture that wasn’t hers and a dim light that shone from the desk lamp positioned beside the computer.

  The tiny room wasn’t much, to say the least. A small twin-size bed was pushed against the wall, made only with the plain purple sheet set and an old striped blanket she had brought with her from home. There was a three-drawer dresser against the other wall, but she had only brought enough clothes with her to fill the first two drawers. A jacket and a few pairs of jeans hung by themselves in the closet by the door that led out into the hallway of the dormitory. Thankfully, her room boasted a wide window that allowed an impressive view of the city from where she sat on the third story of the building.

  It was dark now, and the cluster of lights shone brightly in front of her as she stared past the computer screen out the window. The view was so markedly differently from what she was used to back in Texas that she wasn’t sure if she would ever get used to seeing it or ever want to shut the blinds suspended from the top sill of the window.

  As the city lights blinked and flashed in front of her eyes, she reached for her cell phone and hit the speed dial for their home number. It was as if her desire to hear Michael’s voice, a sound that could resonate through her and connect her to the less urban life she was so far away from, was a physical need rather than just a want. The phone rang three times, the ringing loud in her ear as she waited anxiously, but the call went directly to voice mail and Lauren decided not to leave a message. She would call again in a bit, she told herself, as she swallowed the lump in her throat that threatened to overwhelm her.

  She pushed the emotion into the back of her mind and attempted to focus once again on the computer screen in front of her.

  This was it, she’d
done it. There was a cascade of city lights in front of her, a place full of new faces and scenery. The atmosphere of a college campus was so unlike the surroundings she had become accustomed to in their tiny rural Texas town. The dormitory hallways were eerily quiet, since most of the students wouldn’t be moving into the dorm rooms until tomorrow. But the differences between what Lauren saw now and where she had been could not be ignored.

  She had made the change she wanted in order to further her writing career. It had been a bonus that Michael had been so generous and forthcoming. This might have been the best decision Lauren had ever made for herself and her dream to be a writer. She should have been ecstatic and overcome with excitement at the unknown, and the next four months that were geared solely around creative writing techniques and critique.

  But she wasn’t.

  The computer screen remained just as it had been at home in Texas, the cursor blinking steadily in the same position on the page with Lauren glaring at it with the same detest. With each moment that ticked by, she second-guessed her decision to make such a drastic move and her capabilities as a writer. Perhaps she had been crazy to think she could fix her writer’s block by moving halfway across the country. Perhaps it had been a ploy, a cover-up her mind had allowed her to believe so she could take some time away from Michael and their marital issues. Was that what this was all about? It couldn’t be. Lauren had never run from her problems before. She wouldn’t do that to Michael. She loved him, of that she was sure. She reached for her cell again and hit redial on the keypad. After two rings, he answered.

  “Hey, Lauren.”

  “Michael, hey. I tried to call earlier. Just checking in.” She closed her eyes, trying to imagine him sitting before her and not fifteen hundred miles away, wearing the faded jeans and plaid shirt he always wore to the ranch, his short sandy hair matted to his forehead from being tucked under his hat all day. She hated the thought of him being alone.