Never Say Never (Sonoma Summers Series Book 1)

by Jesse Devyn Crowe

  I had to hand it to Ehrlich, the way he braided together murder mystery, life after death, and romantic tragedy had totally captured my attention. Collecting my cold teacup where I'd abandoned it on the coffee table, I meandered into the kitchen and set it in the microwave for a warm-up, then scanned the epigraphs that began Part II:

  Except that a man be born again, he cannot see the Kingdom of God. — Christ

  God generates beings, and then sends them back over and over again, till they return to him. — The Koran

  After all, it is no more surprising to be born twice than it is to be born once. Everything in Nature is resurrection. — Voltaire

  Death is but a sleep and a forgetting. If death is not prelude to another life, the intermediate period is a cruel mockery. — Gandhi

  I was already familiar with most of these quotes, the exception being the one from The Koran. I hadn't studied the Islamic sacred text at all, but I recalled the content had been dictated to the Prophet Muhammad by the Angel Gabriel who also made an appearance in the Christian Bible foretelling the births of John the Baptist and Jesus. Beyond the reincarnation theme, I found myself fascinated by Ehrlich's incorporation of the Iroquois concept of Ondinnonk — the most secret and innermost desire of the soul revealed in dreams — dreams that in Peter Proud's case were actually past life memories. All Ehrlich's threads combined to weave a fascinating tale, and the novel had held my attention well beyond the first chapter. I was curious now to see what happened to Proud, figuring the likely outcome would be he would discover exactly who he'd been and eventually face his murderer.

  But I kept wondering what Jay meant when he said this book would explain a lot about us. As for me, I already knew the uncanny familiarity he and I shared had to be rooted in a soul connection beyond this lifetime. I didn't wear my metaphysical beliefs on my sleeve or talk about them very often, but they lived deep in my bones. For me, spirituality was personal, something between me and the Divine, not something to shove down other folks throats like almost every Christian sect I'd ever had the displeasure of getting to know.

  I hadn't yet glimpsed where and when I'd known Jay before, but I'd figured it out with other people in my life, unsolicited pictures flashing in my mind during meditation. My most recent experience had been with my ex-boyfriend Kevin, who I'd watched carry a crate up the gangplank of a wooden sailing ship with tears in my eyes and a sleeping baby in my arms, never to return because he'd died of some fever off the coast of a smoking snow-capped island. How I "knew" whether any of that was really a past life wasn't quantifiable. When I saw that scene in my meditation, I'd felt the sadness and the pain of losing someone I deeply loved. But proving reincarnation didn't really matter to me. The way I figured it, what was already done was done. No changing it now. And although seeing the stories from a past lifetime might help explain how I felt about the person or unravel a strange dynamic, it was what we did now in this life that mattered.

  A sudden flash on the horizon heralded the thunder, a rolling rumble that shook the apartment building. My living room lamps flickered briefly, then went dark as the transformers down the street hummed in protest. I collected candles from the kitchen drawer in the afternoon twilight and lit them, watching the glowing flames softly light the room. It wasn't quite enough bright enough for me to read comfortably, but it would be once I dug my battery-operated lantern out of the closet in my foyer.

  So the question was: what had Jay thought of Ehrlich's book? Had he dreamed about a past life with me in it as he'd hinted? Or was he just learning about reincarnation and wondering what I thought? Snuggling back under my afghan on the couch, I sipped my now warm tea and closed my tired eyes.

  Chapter Seven

  Someone pounding on my door woke me a half hour later. "Jess, I know you're in there. I can see your car the parking lot."

  I opened my apartment door a crack and peeked out into the darkness, which I immediately realized was a stupid thing to do because I did not have a chain lock. A tall dark haired man stood outside my door, holding a bedraggled bouquet of pale pink roses.

  "I knew you were home," Kevin said, his voice sounding pleased. "So... hey... what's going on?"

  "The power's out is what's going on. What are you doing here?" Perplexed, I studied Kevin's shadowed face. He looked down at his feet and shook his head.

  "Ya gonna bust my balls? I know I deserve it, Jess. But I decided I had to at least try."

  "Try what?" I rubbed the gritty sleep out of my eyes, too rummy to think straight quite yet. Either that or Kevin wasn't making any sense, which wouldn't be entirely surprising.

  "You gonna invite me in?"

  "Why not?" I opened the door wider and motioned him in, figuring it was the only way I'd get to the bottom of his unannounced visit.

  "These are for you. I'm apologizing and shit. They probably need some water." Kevin shoved the wilting bouquet into my arms. He slipped off his black sneakers, then strode past me and took a leaping jump over the back of my couch. His bare feet landed smack dab on the center cushion, soon followed by his behind on the bounce. "Don't suppose you have a beer in your fridge?"

  Same old Kevin, I thought, deciding to keep my irritation in check for the moment. I popped the top on a Corona and handed it to him, then opened one for myself and curled up into my old leather wingback chair on the opposite side of the coffee table.

  One beer and fifteen minutes later I got the story: Kevin had come to apologize. More like plead for reconciliation. His mother and sisters had told him he was the biggest idiot in Sonoma County for letting me walk out of his life and, by his own admission, Kev thought they might be right. Would I please, please consider going out with him again. He promised he'd do better. Be more considerate. Besides, he had a good job now, driving for Nowalk Transportation, so he'd be able to afford to treat me the way I deserved to be treated. Like a queen...a beautiful queen. He was turning over a new leaf...

  "Enough, already," I interrupted, finding a contrite and complimentary Kevin way out of character for the man I knew. I was now glad I had the foresight to choose the chair, rather than the couch, to ensure the conversation stayed a conversation rather than take any sudden romantic turns. "Why did we break up, Kev? Do you even remember?"

  "Well, you broke up with me. I didn't break up with you." Kevin's voice sounded childishly adamant, as if breaking up had never entered his mind, which I knew was patently untrue because one of his sisters had hinted about it, but I chose to ignore that for the moment.

  "Right. And why was that?" Fully aware I sounded like an impatient mother chastising a child, I was determined to make a point even if I had to pound it through the man's thick skull.

  Kevin studied me through his irrationally gorgeous eyelashes, candlelight painting his gold-brown skin in russet shadow. Moving a few abalone shells and candles aside, he propped his long legs up on the coffee table and took a swig of beer.

  "You used to always say I was disrespectful to women. But that's not true, Jess. I love women." He smiled his charming smile, showing a flash of white teeth.

  "Okay. Stop right there. Look at your feet."

  "What about them?"

  "My coffee table is polished mahogany. Clearly not for feet. Never mind bare feet." I sounded like a bitch and I knew it, but somehow I couldn't seem to help it. I refused to let Kevin's piss-poor memory and blatant disregard for my possessions pass unnoticed. I wasn't going to put up with it.

  "Sorry," he said, plunking his beer down onto the wood surface to quickly move said feet back to the floor and replace the shells and candle holders in their original positions.

  "Better?"

  "How many times have I asked you to use a coaster? We do not place wet glasses on a tabletop." Rapidly losing patience, I jumped up and grabbed a dishtowel from the kitchen counter and threw it onto the seat beside him as a hint. This inattention was classic Kevin, too stuck in his own world to care what got trampled as he buffaloed ahead to get whatever he decided he want
ed.

  "Right." Chagrined, Kevin grabbed a sandstone coaster from the holder and neatly mopped the water rings.

  "I've told you this ten times, Kev. Maybe a hundred times. You don't care enough to listen. You can't do these simple things I ask you to do to respect my possessions. This..." I swished my hands at the table, "is the tip of the iceberg... it's the same way you don't respect me." Fidgeting in my chair, I tried to think of how to best express my thoughts. I wanted Kevin to understand. So he didn't keep making the same mistakes with women. At least that's what I told myself at the time.

  Kevin looked a little bit hurt, but simply waited quietly for me to continue.

  "It's the way you treat me. Like I'm just some kind of decorative appendage along for the ride. That I exist for your convenience. As if my priorities or opinions are unimportant. Immaterial. Not worth consideration." I paused, wracking my brain to come up with an example.

  "I'm not like your friend's girlfriends..."

  "You can say that again," Kevin huffed. "You're goddamn hot for one thing."

  "This is so not about looks, Kev. It's about who I am. I'm in college and I work an office job. I have interests beyond hanging on someone's arm... not that Angelina and Jenny don't... Accckkkk... I don't know how to say this... I'm not saying I'm better than them in any fashion... I'm just wired with the drive to have an education and a career. To get somewhere. And somehow it always felt like you wished I was...simpler than I am. Like it would be easier for you if I didn't have other interests or school or a full-time job that take up my time. But I'm probably never be going to be like that. It all makes me wonder why you don't look for someone who fits your life better."

  There. I'd said it. So why did my heart have this sick sinking feeling?

  Kevin watched me from the couch. I couldn't quite read his expression in the semi darkness — something between frustration and humor, which made no sense at all. Finally he spoke.

  "You think I don't know you're different. Hell yeah, I know it. And it's fucking great! You're smarter than anyone I know. You're not always after me to take you out to some fancy-schmancy place rather than play pool at the tavern with the guys. Or grabbing my at wallet for money. Or whining about why we have to watch football on Monday night. Hell, you even like football for chrissakes!"

  Agitated, Kevin unfolded his long frame and stood. His thick hair brushed the top of his shoulders. He paced into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, peered into the dark cavern, then closed it again. His nervousness permeated the room and I wondered what I'd hit on to make him suddenly so uncomfortable.

  "What are you thinking, Kev?"

  "I dunno." Kevin paced back into the living room and stood behind the couch. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets as if to keep them from fluttering off.

  "Yeah you do. Just say it." I sat up in my seat, more curious now. This fretfulness was unlike Kevin. Granted, he was used to getting what he wanted and I had repeatedly foiled him over the course of our relationship. If he thought a bouquet of withered roses and a few nice words were going to put everything back to the way we were, he was sadly mistaken. I'd tried not to think too much about reconciliation over the past few months. And since Kevin hadn't bothered to contact me since our disagreement up at the lake, I was beginning to think I'd never see him again. Of course, I'd been the one who'd screamed at him to never call me again. For once Kevin had done what I asked, which I'd taken as a sign — but who the hell knew what kind of sign. He'd either found someone else, was royally pissed off and determined to wait me out, or was glad we'd broken up and thought good riddance.

  Being with Kev was like hanging onto a runaway train; you never knew whether you were going to crash and burn or roar triumphantly into the station to a round of applause. Kevin had jumped from one thing to another his entire life: jobs, roommates, trucks, get-rich-quick schemes. One girl to another too. Until me. We'd lasted a little over year — a tumultuous fabulous year that ended in an argument last September when I refused to put gas in his boat.

  But that wasn't all the fight had been about. Not by a long shot.

  Before we'd left town that Friday night for Lake Berryessa I'd asked Kev if we could come home early. I had a lot of reading for my fall classes and a short paper to write. I even considered staying home for the weekend, but Kev wouldn't hear of it. He suggested I bring my books and read on the boat, but I said it wasn't practical to study when we were towing water skiers at 30 miles an hour. So the compromise was for me to accompany him and we'd leave Sunday morning, which would give me Sunday afternoon and evening to catch up on school work. Except Kevin wasn't ready to leave Sunday morning: he wanted to go fishing instead. He left me at the campsite with the other guy's girlfriends while he went fishing with his buddies until almost noon, then he wanted to gas up the boat and take everyone on a final ski run before the drive home. When we pulled up at the dock to get gas, I refused to loan him the cash and reminded him I needed to get back to town to prepare for school on Monday. Kev called me a tight-wad bitch who had her stuck-up nose in a book half the damn time and what fun was that?

  And there we had it. What Kevin really thought of me. Everyone heard it —Jimmy Cairnes and Terry Smithson, Kevin's grade school friends who now worked at Sonoma Diesel, and their girlfriends Jenny and Angelina Liu. Everyone saw how hurt I was. I swallowed my tears, grabbed my backpack, and told Kev we were over and to never ever call me again. I walked away without looking back. When I reached the main road, I stuck out my thumb and got a ride in the second car that passed.

  Kevin hadn't come after me. Until now. Which suddenly struck me as being slightly suspicious. Why now and not Christmas or New Years?

  "Just say it," I repeated, studying his face. "Otherwise, why are we here? It's been four months, Kev. I don't understand."

  "OK. I just..." Kevin pushed his palms forward in a "stop" signal, then turned and headed toward the foyer, his tall frame moving with purpose. "I have something I gotta get in the Chevy..."

  Before I knew it, he'd flung open the door and left the apartment. Cool air flooded into the living room as the wind whipped rain through the eucalyptus trees outside the walkway.

  "Born in a barn?" I said, wondering what the hell Kevin was collecting from his beloved truck that he absolutely needed that very moment.

  Minutes later I heard his bare feet pounding up the stairwell. He slid through the door and quietly shoved something small, square, and black into his pocket. Five steps later, he knelt by my chair. Dark hair fell into his eyes as he looked down at the carpet. I stared at him speechless, my mind turning slowly to comprehend exactly what was happening.

  "I came here tonight because I love you, Jess. I always have. You know that."

  Kevin paused to clear his throat. He looked up at me then, his eyes decidedly wet, and I felt how painful it was for him to say the words. Painful wasn't the right word... horridly uncomfortable was more accurate. Even after a four month absence, I knew this man's heart and mind like my own. I knew he absolutely meant what he said and the depth of his feelings; I could feel it emanating from his long lean body with an intensity I'd never felt before. Suddenly the end of our relationship in September made complete sense: Kevin had pushed my buttons so I'd be the one to break it off and walk away. Because breaking up was better than figuring out how to handle the feeling of loving someone so completely you'd come to their apartment on a Saturday night, kneel by their chair in the dark, and maybe propose something ridiculous like marriage after not seeing them for four months because you didn't want to live without them.

  I could have been wrong about the marriage bit, but if that small black square was a ring box in his pocket as I suspected, then maybe I wasn't and I didn't really want to find out right that moment.

  My mind felt scrambled. I couldn't let this happen. I didn't want this proposal — if that's what it was. Because I didn't think I could marry Kev, or anyone else for that matter. It just wasn't in my genes to be someone's wife fo
r God sakes. Besides, there was this thing Jay and I had going and I'd have to tell Kev.... unless he already knew.

  Maybe that's why Kevin was here now, because he thought I was moving on without him.

  I had to think, goddamn it. Divert this conversation from where it seemed headed. But I didn't know what the hell to say to this beautiful man. So I said the first thing that came to mind. As the words tumbled out of my mouth, I realized they were true.

  "I love you too, Kev." Collecting his idle hands in mine to prevent them from producing any small boxes from his jeans pocket, I smiled. "And I am absolutely starving. How about we find a place with lights and grab some dinner together?"

  Breathing an unconscious sigh, Kevin smiled back at me. The moments seemed to move slowly, and I didn't know if he'd be able to let things stand without saying all that he'd come to say. Finally, he stood up, willingly to accept the diversion.. "You know, that sounds great." he said, shrugging the tension out of his shoulders. "Olivetti's? I know you like that Meatsa, but you like the garlic chicken too, right? Garlic-Lover's Gallina. Might be my favorite pizza of all time. But the Classic Chicago is a close second."

  "The Gallina it is," I nodded, collecting my purse off the breakfast barstool. I breathed a silent sigh of relief, grateful the conversation had veered away from anything more serious for now — although I wouldn't be surprised if Kevin interpreted my willingness to have pizza with him a signal we were back together.

  Truth was, since I'd been with Jay I'd stopped wondering if I'd ever consider reconciling with Kev. But there was one thing crystal clear in my mind, I was not —absolutely not — going to foot the dinner bill. It was high time Kevin made good on his promises about turning a new leaf and treating me better. Unfortunately that meant the Meatsa would have to wait until some other night and a dinner companion's whose stomach thought like mine.