The Ghost of a Chance
Page 19
I laugh and roll on top of her, kissing her thoroughly, her lashes fluttering against my cheeks. "Always, Alis."
---
The cabin is a shambles. I’ve hired a contractor to come out and cobble together an estimate for repairs, but for now, Portia and the kittens are occupying the spare bedroom at the house—and they seem to be adjusting to domestic life quite comfortably. After we finished with the police the night that Jason fell from The Rock—and to his death—Alis and I crept wearily through the forest to try and find the cats, who had fled the cabin when Jason removed the door.
After hours of desperate searching, we discovered them all at last, huddled together beneath my car—with its slashed tires and broken windshield—safe and sound, though a little scared and pathetic-looking, shaking from the cold.
Now, shivering in my coat as snow drifts around the room, I glide my fingers over the keys of Catherine’s typewriter, my heart bursting within me, too full. I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and sit down to gaze at the page scrolled inside of the vintage machine.
Catherine is gone. I know that she’s gone, know it as surely as I know that I love Alis. That night, when Catherine swept out of my body, when she left me with the memory of her soul entwined with mine, I felt as if I had lost her all over again, and I grieved for her in a thousand secret, private moments.
But I haven’t let her go, not truly. Not yet.
I tug the typewritten page free, tilting my head at it curiously. It looks unfamiliar; I remember the last scene that my hands channeled for the play, and this isn’t it. This is…
It’s the final scene of The Food of Love. I don’t know how it’s possible, but Catherine must have finished the play herself. She must have imprinted the pages with her words at some point between my last time sitting here and Jason’s mad rampage.
My eyes skim over the lines, watering as I read the final stanza.
CLOWN: A great while ago the world begun,
With hey, ho, the wind and the rain
But that’s all one, our play is done,
And she’ll strive to please you every day.
And she’ll strive to please you every day.
Catherine kept the end of the play mostly intact, though she substituted we’ll for she’ll and underlined our play is done…
Our play is done.
"No. No…" With a determined sigh, I shake my head and shove the tears from my eyes. "No," I say again, opening the desk drawer to remove the large stack of papers from it, Catherine’s entire manuscript. I place the last page on the bottom of the pile, and as I do so, my eyes notice that there’s a new cover page on the top.
The Food of Love
A play in three acts
by Catherine Corde
Dedicated to Darcy Morrow,
my sunbeam, my darling.
(Someday we’ll meet again.)
"Someday," I whisper, tears dripping silently from my chin to stain the page.
I have to do one last thing, Catherine. For you.
One year later
Alis clasps my hand and bumps her shoulder against mine, smiling broadly as the curtain rises to reveal the stage. The set design is simple: there’s a pastel backdrop denoting a palace interior, with a few plush chairs arranged to one side.
Heart hammering, I squeeze Alis’ hand, gazing again down at the glossy program in my lap: The Food of Love by Catherine Corde.
It’s surreal to sit here, listening to my dear Catherine’s words, remembering everything—the achingly beautiful moments and the devastatingly painful ones—that brought me to here, now, sitting in an off-Broadway theater with Alis beaming pure love at my side.
"Are you all right?" she whispers into my ear, concern darkening her aquamarine gaze. She reaches up to catch a tear that escaped from my eye.
Leaning toward her so that our foreheads touch, I sigh and nod against her, smiling softly. "Yeah," I breathe, realizing in that instant that it’s true: I am all right. Shaking my head and laughing a little in amused disbelief, I kiss Alis lingeringly, unmindful of the theatergoers seated all around us. They’re too rapt by the action onstage to notice two women in love.
"I’m better than all right, Alis. I’m brand new, thanks to you."
"The feeling’s mutual." Her eyes mist over as she presses again against my side, mouthing I love you.
I whisper warmly into her ear, "I love you, too," and, grinning, kiss her neck.
Then, fingers entwined, we turn back to face the stage, immersing ourselves in Catherine’s final theatrical vision—a world in which all wrongs are made right, all confusion is replaced with enlightenment, all wounds are tenderly healed, and all lovers are rewarded with a happily ever after.
The End
Also by Natalie Vivien:
The Trouble with Indiana -- the first romantic novella in the "Chronicles of Indiana" series, about two women in love, one very mischievous dog and a whole lot of romance, mishaps and fun.
The Disaster of Indiana – Can the Pride festival survive the antics of one very mischievous dog? The second romantic novella in the "Chronicles of Indiana" series.
The Search for Indiana – Indiana’s gone missing, and Comfort and Bella must find him before it’s too late. The third romantic novella in the "Chronicles of Indiana" series.
For the Love of Indiana – All three of the "Chronicles of Indiana" novellas in one collection! Contains "The Trouble with Indiana," "The Disaster of Indiana" and "The Search for Indiana."
Visiting Hope – a sweet, romantic short story about a group of women who go camping, and the two women who fall in love.
Building Hope – Unfortunately, not everyone feels the same happiness about Hope and Amy’s new relationship.
Finding Hope – Hope tries to mend the rift between her and Chris with a hike into the mountains, but it goes dangerously awry…
Embracing Hope – Can Amy find Hope on the mountain in the deadly storm…before it’s too late?
Falling for Hope: The Hope Stories Collection – The four sweet, romantic short stories, collected in one volume: what happens when you fall in love with your best friend? Falling for Hope contains "Visiting Hope," "Building Hope," "Finding Hope" and "Embracing Hope."
And Then Came Marriage – No one in the world has had worse luck trying to propose to their girlfriend… A romantic celebratory short story commemorating the overturning of DOMA.
More coming very soon!
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About Author Natalie Vivien
I live in the northeast on a small farm with a few cats and dogs, my saintly wife, and more weeds in the garden than anyone should ever have to tackle. I have two great loves: my wife and writing, and I’m so grateful to be able to marry the two in the stories I write, about two women who have a connection, who fall deeply in love with one another.
I’d love to hear from you! Send me an email at miss.Natalie.vivien@gmail.com You can also visit my site at http://natalievivien.wordpress.com
I would appreciate, so much, if you would take a minute or two to leave a review on The Ghost of a Chance, and thank you so much for reading it! Please look out for my other releases, coming soon! Please sign up for my newsletter to be notified when new novels are released!