I'd gotten up early to get to my doctor’s appointment, and started the wood work when I'd gotten home a few hours ago. There would be time enough tomorrow to take care of some of this work. Rain was forecast for overnight, but that wouldn't impair my gathering up the wood. I could also get some splitting done, too...
When did you stop asking people to chaperone you using the woodsplitter?
I finished cutting, and cleaned off the saw, thinking hard. It bothered me that I’d broken my promise to Brennan, even if nothing had come of it. But what bothered me more was that I couldn’t remember when exactly it had happened or why. I’d always respected the inherent danger and power of my machinery. I was always super cautious. Wasn’t I?
Somewhere this last summer, I had begun chainsawing alone. That wasn’t cautious. That was asking for trouble of the worst kind. You don’t even have your cell phone.
Disturbed, I stored the chainsaw, the gas and oil mix used to fuel it, and the chain lube in my barn. As I closed the door, and walked back to my home, I thought to myself that there was really no need to push myself so hard. I really had enough wood for this winter. What I was cutting now was surplus, most likely to be stored for next year. My mind shied away from continuing the thought, knowing that I had been pushing myself to work until I was exhausted so I wouldn’t have to face an empty house.
You would never have done this when Brennan was alive.
I stopped suddenly and looked at the forest. Part of me wanted to go in there, to leave all this behind, and just walk for a while. But my reason said that was stupid, that bears had been sighted in the woods, and night was already falling. Don’t do it, Sar.
I trudged inside and poured myself a glass of wine, petting Jessica and Cavity. Rain lashed the windows, the sudden pounding startling me.
Why had I been tempted to take a walk in the woods, when I knew that I shouldn’t? Was I really getting better? I didn’t think of Brennan as much as I’d done last fall, but it had been a year and I still felt a weight on me, a heaviness that always seemed to return when I was alone. I wasn’t happy most days, not like I’d been once. Kat was right, that there were only going to be another ten years before I turned 40. It seemed urgent suddenly to make them count.
Putting one foot in front of the other, to keep getting up and trying to make what had been a great life into a passable one had gotten me functioning. Maybe it was time to seek help from others to finish my healing.
My mother and stepfather had been there for me all through that hellish first month. It was at the request of my mother that I had met with a grief counselor for a few sessions. When I had talked about my feelings during the sessions, he said only that my thoughts were normal. I replayed the last conversation I’d had with the counselor again in my head, searching for some clue as to what I could do about the way I felt. Stymied, I resolved to call him tomorrow and make another appointment.
* * * *
“When am I supposed to feel alive again?”
“Sarelle, it’s different for everyone. Some people take longer than others to grieve. You just need to keep trying.”
“But I still feel hopeless, like there is something missing in my life. I need that to go away. I want my joy back.”
“Sarelle, it’s not going to go away all at once.”
“I understand that, but when am I going to feel like associating with my friends? My family?”
“Have you been seeing your friends or family?"
“Yes. We have a good time together. But I used to look forward to visiting, and now I have to make myself go.”
“What about Brennan's family? Your in-laws? Do they still blame you, Sarelle?"
“Yes. Not for the accident itself, but for the fact that he was there at all. We don't speak. We haven't since the funeral.”
“You believe that you were not to blame though, correct?”
“Of course!” I said, raking my hand through my hair. “Brennan was stubborn. He was going to do what he wanted regardless of what I said.”
“It’s true also that you talked about him dying, that he knew he might not come back?”
“That still hurts me. We talked about it the way a travel agent talks about crashing on an airplane trip. He didn't really take it seriously. Neither did I.” I felt a sharp pain again, thinking of Brennan laughing about how he had climbed so many mountains, and this was just one more.
“He loved the danger. He thrived on it, and it led him to his death.”
“Sarelle, I know it might not feel this way, but you are out of the worst of your grief. In fact, you are handling it better than most. You have a new job, you’re making new friends, and you’re keeping busy. I don't think you need to come and see me anymore, unless you began to feel depressed again.”
“But there is something wrong with me,” I persisted. “Since the accident happened, I've been less, um, cautious."
I had his attention now. “What do you mean?”
Mentioning that I chainsawed alone now seemed unremarkable. “I mean I find myself thinking about things that I never would have before.”
“Such as?”
Like walking into my forest and being okay with not coming out. “Just odd thoughts. They don’t seem like they’re mine.”
“Elaborate.”
“I always used to reach for the phone to call 911 as soon as I got scared, back in the city,” I said reluctantly. “But now I don’t think I would call, if there was trouble.”
The counselor gave me a stern look. “You aren’t threatening them with your shotgun, are you? I thought we discussed that was not a good thing for a woman living alone to be doing.”
I colored slightly. Illegal hunters don’t count. And you wouldn’t say that to me if I were a man. “Of course not. No one’s bothered me, really.”
“If someone does, call the police and stay inside.”
Why? They would never get there in time, just like for Brennan. “Okay.”
His expression remained unconvinced. “Have you had thoughts of suicide?”
“No,” I said quickly. “Just thoughts of getting older, and wondering if this is all there is for me. I want there to be more than working and being alone all the time.”
“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of living to do,” he said with a smile. “I know it doesn’t seem possible now, but this time next year, you may be amazed that you ever felt this low. Life has a way of changing.” He handed me a piece of paper from his shelf.” Have you ever read this poem?”
“With Every Goodbye,” I read aloud. “I think I remember this vaguely from my youth. Isn’t it about coping with loss?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Take it home and read it. Think about it a little. Then if you want to schedule another session with me, I’ll be happy to see you again.”
I’d done as he asked. The poem was cheesy in its way, but I did like its message of self-sufficiency. I already knew I was strong and that I had worth. But I’d learned all I wanted to of heartache and loss. I just wanted to find someone with whom to share my joys. That was the lesson he’d wanted me to get; that to really be ready to date again, I had to accept that I might find myself back in this same position someday.
I wasn’t ready to do that now. I wasn’t sure I ever would be. I was okay with that. The rest of the world would just have to be okay with it, too.
* * * *
I was conveniently curled up on my couch one night in September, cats plural sharing my lap, reading the latest DeMille thriller. Asher was in the basement, which had become her home this past year. She still ventured outside, but only at night. She’d relaxed her guard enough for me to pet her and pick her up, but she still didn’t enjoy being held.
My work at the metal shop was going well, and I was looking forward to a slow autumn, instead of the usual rush to the wire to beat winter’s harsh descent. Maybe I wasn’t all better, but I was going to survive. I’d written my second chapter already this past year, and made a new life from
the ruins of the old one. The rest of my story lay before me in the years to come. Maybe there would even be a cowriter. There was plenty of time for a great love to enter stage right. And if it took a few more chapters for that to happen, that was okay, too.
Heart’s Bells
(Previously Published in Bedtime Shadows anthology 10-2012)
“Don’t you wish we could stay here forever?” Casey murmured softly. She leaned her head back on Theo’s broad shoulder, her hopeful sea blue eyes meeting his.
Instead of the loving, or even lustful look she expected to see, Theo’s eyes were overcast, his grey-blue eyes dark as storm clouds, his expression grim as he looked out over the quiet mountain lake and surrounding trees nearby. “You know I want that,” he replied tersely, even as he shifted her into his arms, hugging her slight body to his muscular one under the thin blanket that covered their entwined bodies. “But it’s the end of the semester. With how things stand now, my dad’s not going to let me come back next semester. He wants me to pursue ‘real work’, not ‘that art crap’.”
“You don’t have to listen to him,” Casey soothed. “We don’t need his money. We’ve only got a semester left, then we’ll graduate. We can start a new life together.”
“With what?” Theo scoffed, though he was secretly pleased at her faith in him. “Do you really want to be married to a starving artist?”
Casey turned in his arms, suddenly nervous, scared hope and shock on her face. “You want to marry me?”
“If you’ll have me,” Theo said with a boyish grin. His smile became wider. “Not that you haven’t already copious times, but—”
“Jerk!” Casey said, giving him a good–natured shove. “Don’t make light of this. Now are you proposing or not?”
“Yes,” Theo said, his smile wavering as he fumbled a small box from his pocket. He cracked it open to display a small diamond ring. “Will you—?”
“Yes!” Casey yelled, her call loud enough to send the birds on the lake into the air, their wings beating frantically as they shouted their annoyance on the breeze.
“I guess we don’t need an audience,” Theo said, slipping the ring on her left hand. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” Casey gushed, then grabbed Theo’s head in her hands, bringing him in for a smoky kiss that consumed them in its passion.
Eagerly, Theo moved atop her, wishing that they never had to leave the mountains, or face the worries of the real world. They’d fallen in love here, he and Casey. This was their special place, near the shore of the lake at Heart’s Bells.
* * * *
Hours later, their ardor sated, Theo hugged the sleeping Casey to him. It felt like the best day of his life, and yet, he was scared to death.
His father had threatened to cut his college funding. He wanted Theo to be a lawyer, like he was. Theo’s mother was on his side—her father had been a carpenter—but she wasn’t willing to stand up to her husband, not even for her son.
Casey had also glossed over a lot of details. Yes, she was close to finishing up her nursing degree, but he would only have an associate’s degree by the end of next semester. While he’d saved some money at his part time job, there wasn’t enough there for a down payment on a one room apartment. His father would be against this marriage just as he’d been against everything Theo had ever loved...
Theo took a deep breath of mountain air and looked around, trying to forget his father. Maroon Bells, Colorado had never seemed so much like home. Some of that was because his best memories were here, his memories of Casey and falling in love with her. She had always called this place Heart’s Bells since they had claimed it for their own.
Theo hugged her close, then closed his eyes, remembering.
It had happened two years ago, in fall. He had come up to hike Maroon Lake after moving all his stuff into his dorm. His father and mother had left almost immediately, after a few encouraging words to make sure he was going to attend all the freshmen activities scheduled. Theo waited until their car had disappeared from sight, then taken off in his own small Plymouth Neon. He’d be damned if he was going to attend any stupid orientation. He’d always been a loner, and he was happiest in the woods. That day had been a beautiful one, far too beautiful to waste inside with strangers. Not when the mountains he’d come here to see were finally his to explore.
He’d planned to hike Maroon Lake, and maybe work on a sketch of the famous mountains. The Maroon Bells were some of the most famous mountains in Colorado, and the most photographed, with Maroon Peak being the highest mountain Colorado boasted. If anything was going to inspire him, this would.
The view didn’t disappoint. The reddish mountains loomed over the glacier-sculpted lake, perfect and timeless. The hills were awash in fall’s vibrant colors, the leaves surreally vivid, as if they had to be a painting, not living breathing nature. But far more interesting was the girl Theo saw before him on the trail, her attention so focused on the view that she didn’t hear him approach.
Theo walked up discreetly, sure at any moment the girl would turn, or give some sign she had seen him. Yet he managed to get within a foot of her unnoticed.
“Boo,” he said softly in her ear.
“I heard you,” she said easily, as if they were old friends. “Don’t think you scared me, because you didn’t.”
“You’ve got nerves of steel,” Theo replied, cracking a smile.
She turned and looked at him, her friendly smile enough to make his breath catch in his throat. Her short blond hair was up in a tight ponytail, her blue eyes teasing. “Don’t I know you?”
No, he didn’t know her. But God, how he wanted to. “I’m Theo. I’m taking courses at the Colorado Mountain College.”
She took his proffered hand and shook it. “Hi. I’m Casey. I’m going there, too. Are you taking EMT classes?”
Theo shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. That was what he’d told his father he was taking. “No, Visual Art.”
Casey nodded approvingly. “So you’re an artist.”
“I’d like to be a sculptor,” Theo elaborated, encouraged. “I plan to get an Associate’s Degree here, then transfer to a School of Visual Art.”
“That’s so cool,” Casey replied. “You must be really good. I love to draw, but my parents refused to foot the bill for art classes. We settled for EMT, with a longer goal of an Associate’s Degree in chemistry.” She held up a pad and graphite pencil, an artist’s eraser looped around the black painted wood. “Not that I’ve given up all hope.”
“They don’t know,” Theo blurted out, turning away to look at Maroon Bells. “I lied, told them I was signing up for EMT classes. But I registered for art. They’re probably going to make me leave when they find out. But I don’t care.”
Casey looked at Theo a moment, then at the Maroon Bells in the distance. “You know why they call them the Deadly Bells?”
Theo shook his head. “I’ve never heard that name for them.”
“They’re made of mud stone,” Casey said. “Not granite or limestone, like other mountains here. That gives them their color. Mudstone is weak and fractures easily. A lot of people have died here in climbing accidents over the years, when the rock they trusted with their life crumbled away.”
Theo was silent, unsure if his teasing comment that Casey seemed a little too into tragic events would be welcomed.
“I call them Heart’s Bells,” Casey continued softly. “Not just because of their pretty color, but because of their nature. Hearts are like that—easily broken.” She touched his hand gently. “You should do what you want, Theo. If you think that art is what you were meant to do, don’t let anything stop you.”
Theo swallowed hard, not trusting himself to respond. Instead, he just clasped her hand in his, looking out over Heart’s Bells.
* * * *
It hadn’t taken long for Theo to fall for Casey. They’d become fast friends, spending most of their time together, even as Casey introduced him to her circle. Theo had only
taken note of one of them, a jock called Henry who seemed to find any excuse he could to touch Casey. Theo ignored it for the first month, then couldn’t stand it any longer.
He and Casey had been hiking around the lake when he’d suddenly blurted the question that had dogged his mind for days.
“Are you in love with him?”
Casey had turned to him, bewildered. “In love with who?”
“Henry. Are you?”
“Of course not, Theo,” Casey answered with a smile. “He and I have known each other since grade school—”
Theo was so relieved he grabbed Casey in his arms and kissed her, his desire to possess her and make her his irresistible. Casey kissed him back, her mouth devouring his eagerly as he pushed her back to a tree.
Finally, they separated with a last soft kiss.
“I’m sorry I cut you off,” Theo said shyly. Then he straightened and looked her in the eyes. “No, I’m not actually. I’m not sorry at all. And I’d do it again because I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks now.”
“I know,” Casey said coyly. “It’s been obvious.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Theo demanded.
“I was hoping for a kiss like that,” she said hungrily, tracing his lips with her finger. “It was just as passionate as I hoped.”
“Then let me give you another,” Theo murmured, covering her mouth with his own.
* * * *
The next year and a half passed like water. Theo loved his art classes, excelling and getting A's, even as he fed the EMT information Casey passed to him about her own medical classes to his parents on his infrequent trips home.
Theo and Casey became lovers within months, that first encounter—like so many of their firsts—near Heart’s Bells. They had driven up in the early spring before the tourists, the road slushy with late winter’s snow in places. But the area around Maroon Lake was dry. Parking in some trees to the side of the parking area, they had walked to the amphitheater in late afternoon. There, their sleeping bags zipped together, they had made love under the mountain’s shadow.
Promise Me Anthology Page 3