An Artificial Sun

by Shafer, Gina

  I finish and leave the podium. I don’t look at anyone, and I don’t acknowledge the looks of sympathy thrown my way. I place a kiss on my mother’s casket and I take my seat.

  “You did great. She would be proud,” Maggie whispers.

  Dad and I return home after the burial, inviting everyone over to our place. I try not to let it bother me when hours pass, and I don’t see Nick. His sister keeps Coconut happy, tossing his toy in the empty front room. Most people pile into the living room and kitchen, snacking on the food I prepared and dishes others were kind enough to bring. The wine I set out disappears quickly, and after a while I realize I haven’t sat down in a long time. I’m running from place to place, talking with people, playing the role of gracious host.

  Maggie helps quite a bit after Steve takes the twins out to play by the water. I can’t thank her enough.

  “We can stay a while, if you want. Maybe for the weekend?” she says.

  What I want is for everyone to leave. “I’d rather you guys come back at a happier time, to be honest. Your babies deserve to spend their days at the beach and eating ice cream for dinner.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “You’ve done enough just by being here. I love you for that.”

  We hug for maybe the hundredth time today, and it feels as good as the first.

  “I love you too. If you need anything, please call me, okay?”

  I nod, blinking back tears.

  Dad looks happy. I eye him at the kitchen table, where he’s sitting with some of his and Mom’s friends. They tell stories about Mom, and every time I catch a little of what they’re saying, I laugh.

  The last few people finally leave, and evening passes into night. I haven’t thrown a single dirty look at the sun all day. Even though Mama is gone, hearing stories about her and sharing little pieces of her with everyone, I know her life was everything she wanted it to be.

  “I’m going to bed,” Dad says, loosening his tie. “Thank you for everything you did today. I know it was a lot of work, but your mother would be proud of you. Especially for what you said.”

  “Thank you.” He kisses my cheek like he did when I was a little girl. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, Whitley-bean.”

  I finish putting leftover food into containers and pop them in the fridge. Coconut rubs against my legs and I accidentally drop a couple pieces of cheese for him to snack on.

  A tapping on the glass door draws my attention. “Nick?” He’s carrying a basket.

  “Can I come in?” he asks.

  I nod and follow him to the kitchen table. “What’s all this?”

  He takes a deep breath, like he’s centering himself before he answers. “I want you to know how much you mean to me. How much your mother meant to me. No matter what, I will honor that. I want you in my life, Whitley. I want to have a family with you and make memories, like your father did with your mother. Like my parents did. And I want you to teach our children this recipe.” He points.

  In the basket are nine loaves of banana bread. “I don’t—”

  “It took me nine tries to get it right.”

  I’m bewildered and amazed. I cover my mouth when my bottom lip quivers.

  “I’m not the world’s best cook, but I wouldn’t stop until I paid homage to your mom the right way.”

  I drop my hand. “Is this where you were all day?”

  He nods. “I love you so much, Whitley. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you. I’m not sure there’s anything you couldn’t do yourself, but will you let me be the one you turn to when you forget that?”

  “Do I have to eat all of that?” I squeak.

  He laughs and shakes his head, pulling me into an embrace that soothes me to my core.

  “I love you too, you know. I never stopped. I just didn’t know where you fit into my life when all I could see was desolation and grief.”

  “I fit right here,” he says, holding his hand to my heart.

  I kiss him, and though my grief is still overwhelming, I will face it with bravery, courage, and peace. Because that’s what my mother would have wanted.

  And that’s what Nick inspires in me.

  Four years later.

  “I have to pee.” I look over at Nick. He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, like seriously. If I don’t get to a bathroom right now, I’m going to pee all over myself.”

  His gaze whips back to mine, eyes wide. “GPS says we’ll be there in three minutes. Can you hold it until then?”

  “I fucking hope so,” I mutter, shaking my leg up and down anxiously. I grip the seatbelt, placing a hand on my round belly. The wedding ring on my right finger catches my eye. It belonged to Mom and it still brings me peace whenever I see it.

  Nick and I have been married two years, and we’re welcoming a baby girl in another month. Rose is an intern at one of the top fashion magazines in New York. We hear from her regularly. She’s loving all the hard work… and the drama.

  Maggie had—get this—another set of twins last year. We both almost threw up when we found out. That’s two babies coming out of you twice. I shudder just thinking about it. They plan to vacation here as soon as the babies are old enough to not be a complete hassle during travel.

  Dad sold the beach house after Nick and I bought one farther down the beach, with more privacy. We invited him to move into our guesthouse, and he eagerly accepted. I like having him close, and he seems to enjoy it too. He spends his weekends golfing and tinkering with the motor of the mustang he recently purchased.

  Nick pulls into the parking lot of an empty building. I’m not sure why he took me here, but when your husband comes home excited and threatens to blindfold you, you listen. I jump out of the car and hold my belly as I trot to the door. Nick runs up beside me and pulls keys from his pocket, unlocking the door.

  The need to pee has taken over every synapse in my brain. My bladder is screaming at me. Nick tells me where to go, and I swear I cut it far too close for comfort. I blame the romper I wore today. Newsflash: pregnancy and rompers do not mix. I have to pull the whole thing down to alleviate myself but oh, when I finally do… sweet relief.

  As soon as I finish up in the restroom, I start to realize what the hell is going on. Nick brought me to an empty building… one he had the keys to. And as I look around, I see some familiar pieces of an old restaurant.

  I rejoin Nick. The place looks like an old restaurant.

  “Better?” he asks, smiling.

  “What the hell is this?” I ask. Most of the windows have brown paper taped over them, and there’s not a table or chair in sight.

  “This is Carol’s.”

  Oh my god. This is Carol’s.

  This is the space for the restaurant I’ve been dreaming of, doodling and planning, sticking little notes up around the house.

  He walks over to the front door and rips paper off the window, revealing Carol’s, in my mother’s handwriting, as the name of the restaurant. My hands fly to my mouth. Tears fill my eyes. As carefully as an eight-months pregnant woman can, I fling myself at him.

  “I can’t believe you did this for me,” I say. “And oh my god, you got it so right.”

  “That’s because I know you.”

  I stick my tongue out, and he draws me closer.

  “Our little girl will grow up here, watching you live your passion. You can tell her all about your mother, and I’ll tell her about mine, and she’ll be in awe, knowing that some of the greatest women helped mold who she will one day become.”

  I shed a tear listening to Nick’s words. Over the past four years, I’ve been through many ups and downs, dealing with my mother’s death. I’ve learned that you never really stop missing someone you loved unconditionally. I wish I could talk to her now more than ever.

  “I wish she could be here. I wish they both could,” I whisper.

  Nick sways us to a silent beat and then stops. “Let’s go talk to her then.” He navigates easily to
the graveyard and stops near Mom’s gravestone. We know it by heart; we visit her often.

  Today feels different though. Maybe it’s because so many changes are happening, or maybe it’s because once the baby comes, life will be busier, and I’m afraid my memories of her will start to fade.

  Whatever the case, I’m grateful when he leaves me to find his own mother’s grave, and I get to be alone.

  “Hey, Mama,” I say, kneeling. “I know, I look like a dumpling.” I laugh, holding my belly. “We’ve decided to name her Cara Angela, after you and Nick’s mom. I hope you like it, because I plan to tell her about you, a lot.”

  I’m quiet for a moment.

  “I want you to know you’re the greatest woman I’ve ever known. Almost all little girls think that about their moms, but I’m not a little girl anymore.

  “I watched as you suffered, and I couldn’t connect that you with the version of you that raised me. That’s because I wasn’t there for the middle. I stepped in late, and for that I’m sorry. But I want you to know you still shaped me and helped me grow up during that time.”

  Nick is coming back. I offer him a little wave, and he smiles that sweet sexy smile he perfected long before I ever knew him.

  “I hope I make you proud, Mama, and when my little girl calls me that, I promise to wear it as a badge of honor and never forget, even when you couldn’t remember who you were, you were still guiding me where I needed to go.”

  People live on in their children. When I look in the mirror, I see the nose my mother gave me, that her mother gave her. My dad’s chin and my grandmother’s ears. We’re all comprised of the people before us, that gave a little piece of themselves to create the next generation.

  So when I look in the mirror now, I don’t just see Whitley anymore. I see my Mama. And my Dad. And maybe one day my child will look in the mirror and see me and Nick, and all the pieces of the puzzle will fit into place and they’ll realize that you’re more than just yourself, you’re also a bit of everyone it took to get you here.

  Nick helps me up, and I stand in his arms for a little while, not eager to leave. The warm sun beats against the side of my face, and I close my eyes, reveling in it.

  For so long an artificial sun has lit my world. During that time I almost forgot what it felt like to embrace warmth. I’m open now. I live my life without walls, curtains, or shields that keep others away. I exist, I breathe, and I have finally released the guilt that kept me in the dark.

  THE END

  Alzheimer’s & Dementia Resources

  National Alzheimer’s and Dementia Resource Center: nadrc.acl.gov

  24/7 helpline: 800.272.3900 Alz.org

  Fisher Center for Alzheimer’s Research Foundation: Alzinfo.org

  To find resources by state go to: www.alzheimers.net

  Alzheimer's Foundation of America: Alzfdn.org

  Please consider donating to an Alzheimer’s Charity of your choice. Your support could change the world.

  Acknowledgments

  First and foremost, my readers are what keep me writing. Thank you to every single person who has read my words and followed me on this journey thus far. I struggle (even as a writer) to put into words what your support means to me. I have so many new plans and ideas for projects to come and I cannot wait to share them with you all!

  To any and all of those affected by Alzheimer’s disease, I wrote this book for you and with you heavily in mind. Thank you to those of you who shared your stories with me and helped me to understand this disease.

  I have to give a huge thank you to my wonderful husband and two children, who give me the time and space I need to evolve as a writer. I love you. Thank you.

  To Hospice of the Bay, who cared for my Grandmother while she succumbed to an illness much like Whitley’s mother. And to my Mom, who helped her pass peacefully as well. Everything (good, bad, and in between) that I’ve learned about motherhood, I learned from you.

  Every book I've written thus far, I've thanked Murphy and her team at Indie Solutions. From editing, to covers, to random questions, you and LS have helped me immensely and I can't thank you enough for providing the services you do, and the knowledge that you share freely.

  To my editors, you make me work harder and smarter and I am forever grateful for the advice and critiques you give.

  To Autumn at Wordsmith, you’re amazing at what you do. And your help has truly been invaluable. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  My beta readers, you know who you are. You make this book real for me in so many more ways than one. I usually keep my writing to myself for as long as utterly possible until I finally dive in and let someone else read it. Getting your feedback is one of the best parts of writing.

  Lyndsay, another one of my wonderful betas. Your notes helped me get past a hump I’d been struggling to get over for months. You’re the best. Seriously.

  To C.R. Ellis, who gave me some deep insight and help with this one. You’re a godsend. Everyone go read her books because she’s amazing.

  To my extended friends and family who've supported me and promoted my books, thank you! Without you, I couldn't do what I do.

  About the Author

  Gina Shafer is the author of the steamy urban fantasy series Burned By Magic. She lives in California with her husband and two children. She spends her time dabbling in photography, cooking, and graphic design. For contact and inquiries, please email authorginashafer@gmail.com

  For information on formatting, and book covers, visit:

  www.authorginashafer.com

  Keep in touch with Gina Shafer to find out more about her upcoming projects!

  Reviews are greatly appreciated!

  Also by Gina Shafer

  Of Light And Fire

  Can love survive in a war against demons and the call from all consuming magic?

  Elijah is a warrior. A ruthless, sexy, powerful soldier and a leader of the Sicarri - an army forged for the sole purpose of ridding the world of the magic thieving demons that threaten their existence.

  But he’s also gentle. Loving. He’s a father that would do whatever it takes to protect his young son, Soren. Even if that means protecting Soren from those closest to him. The world is in turmoil, battles ensue, and Elijah finds love when he least expects it with a fierce warrior named Karina. Elijah and Karina are quickly consumed with a fierce desire for one another, but as a deadly war with demons looms, they must decide how much weight their love can bear.

  In Smoke And Ruins

  When Karina was a little girl, her family was ripped apart at the seams. Betrayed by her mother, and left alone after her grandmother was brutally murdered, she set out to find a new purpose in life.

  She found it…

  Karina has been part of the Sicarri for years, slaying demons with a fiery sword in each hand. She’s focused, and nothing can get in her way. That is, until she meets a man who turns her world on its axis... Elijah.

  When Elijah entered her life, he brought with him a new challenge and the promise of a love so true that even fire could not burn it down. But soon Karina learns that everything she thought she knew about the magic in her world is not what it seems. With her new knowledge she must fight against the forces that threaten to tear Elijah away from her, all while trying to keep her plan for vengeance from falling apart. Her journey through love and loss sets her life ablaze and after the fire burns, Karina is left to sift through the smoke and ruins.