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© Copyright 2009, 2010, 2011

You were all that mattered... Then my world was shattered.

Teach me to love again. Give me the strength to try. ...Help me say good-bye.

 

 

 

It wasn’t supposed to have happened. I was supposed to have one of those lives where I married the love of my life and we bought that little colonial on the corner with the white picket fence and big back yard. Two, maybe three, children should have been underfoot with lazy, Sunday morning brunches and summer vacation car trips to Florida. But things don’t work out the way you want them to and that rainy Friday had plans of its own. Plans that consisted of wet, slick roads, a big rig whose driver took the curve a little too fast and went into a skid, his trailer jack-knifing, and the oncoming car with no way out. It was a fiery scene; the authorities had said death was quick, on impact even. So the only suffering was with those that had been left behind.

That’s the night I learned that when you’re sitting atop the world, you will fall off. Hugh Weston had only been 25. We had been married for two years; just celebrated our second wedding anniversary in a little bed and breakfast up in Vermont. He was a sports writer and had been traveling home from New York City. The weather forecast predicted clear and sunny, but everyone knows how quickly things can change. Weather is unpredictable and the sudden onslaught of the storm hadn’t alarmed anyone.

I got the call after midnight. Hugh had been expected home by ten. When he hadn’t arrived, I wasn’t too alarmed. He was the type to get caught up in something and not realize that an hour, or even two, had passed and he may want to give a phone call so people didn’t worry. That’s who I had thought it had been when the house phone rang, causing our over affectionate chocolate lab, Daisy, to lift her head from her comfortable spot before the fireplace. I had been curled up under a quilt, reading by firelight and answered the phone on the second ring. But it wasn’t my husband’s rich voice that greeted me, instead it was a man who introduced himself as Officer Sterling and he proceeded to inform me that he was having a car sent to pick me up. There had been an accident and they were going to take me to the hospital.

Nothing was ever the same after I found out about Hugh’s death. I tried to carry on like usual but just couldn’t. The house, the town, even my job had too many memories. I needed a change; I had to get away and start fresh, try to get myself back to normal, or at least be able to pretend I was. So I packed my things, said goodbye to my friends and family, loaded Daisy into the SUV and drove. And I didn’t stop until I reached California.

~*~*~*~*~

“I’m setting you up on a date.”

I blinked over the cup of Earl Gray tea in my hand. “Say what?”

“A date. I’m setting you up on a date.”

“Wh… why?” My pristine blue eyes focused more clearly on the woman that sat across from me. Dianna Torres. One of the first people I had met since relocating. We were neighbors and had quickly become friends.

“Because, in the year and a half that you’ve been out here, you have yet to go on one.” She took a sip of her own beverage, her brows raised at me.

I gave a little sigh. “I… I know. But Dianna… you know that…”

She didn’t let me finish. “Morgan, you are 26 years old, not 60. You still have lots of living left.”

I felt a frown crease my forehead. “Dianna..”

“No,” she held up a hand and cut me off. “I understand that you went through a lot, and I know that it takes time. But honey, you have to at least get your feet wet.” Her slender hands set her mug back onto the table. “I’m not asking for a commitment… just one date.”

I chewed my bottom lip and watched her. I know she only meant the best for me, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for a date. Hugh had been everything to me and I still had that empty void inside.

“Getting your life back on track and seeing other men isn’t going to make you forget about Hugh.” She must have been reading my mind. “He’s always going to have a place inside of you, no matter who you meet or how happy you are.”

“I … know.” I could feel the lump rising in my throat. “It’s just… hard.”

“I know it is.” She reached across the table and touched my hand, her coffee colored eyes full of sympathy. “But you moved out here to start afresh, right? And hiding away and not continuing your life is not doing that. You might as well have just stayed in Connecticut.”

I set my own mug down, bringing my hand up and rubbing the back of my neck with it. “You’re right.”

A playful little smile graced her full lips, revealing pearly white teeth. “Of course I am. And it’s just one date. You never even have to see the guy again after.” She paused a moment and grew somber again. “But you have to start somewhere.”

“Okay.” The words were but a mere whisper.

She gave my hand a friendly squeeze. “And don’t worry; he’ll be a great guy. I’ll make sure of it.”

I wasn’t worried about that. Dianna Torres was one of the best judges of character that I had ever met. She seemed to have this way of reading people, peering into your soul and exposing it to her, and instead of feeling violated, it left you wanting to open up completely to this woman. She was vivacious and full of life, lived off the beaten path and those who came in contact with her immediately fell in love. One of the few genuine people left in this world, her husband described her as. She could be pushy and over bearing but with her quirky personality and vigor of life, it never came across that way. Instead, she only seemed like the type that wanted everyone as happy as she was.

She was young, only 35, but had the wisdom and maturity of someone well into their fifties. She and her husband, Manuel Torres, lived next door in a two story Mediterranean, with a fountain in the front and an amazing view of the ocean out the back. He was a contractor and she an illustrator for children’s books. They had turned one of the bedrooms into her own personal studio, and she spent many hours a day holed up inside sketching, drawing, and painting on her latest creation. Art was soothing for the soul; she would tell me and then suggest I try it sometime. Take a class, buy a sketch pad, invest in some water colors. I wasn’t keen on that idea, but she never stopped trying.

“So you um…want some more tea?” I rose from my seat and moved towards the tea kettle.

“Sure, that sounds great.” She nudged her mug towards my direction. “So, do you have a specific type?”

I blinked and peered to the teapot. “Um.. it’s Earl Gray.”

My friend chuckled. “No, silly…type of man.”

“Oh.” Shaking my head a little bit at that blonde moment, I poured Dianna another cup of the hot beverage. “I … dunno. I haven’t.. had to think about that in years.”

She gave a little nod, thanking me for the drink and pulling the cup back towards her. “Do you prefer blonds over brunettes, muscles or lean bodies …artist types or professional business men?”

I gave a little shrug and returned the tea kettle to the stove before sliding back into my chair. “I really don’t know.” I traced my fingers around the rim of the porcelain mug.

Dianna nodded and watched me with a solemn expression. “I’ll just surprise you, how ‘bout that?”

That sounded perfect to me. I sent her a grateful smile and nodded.

She returned the smile and took a sip of her drink. “You’re going to be just fine, Morgan Weston. I’m going to see to that.”

~*~*~*~*~

Hours later, after Dianna had left and I’d cleaned the kitchen; I lay comfortable in a lounge chair outside on the balcony from my bedroom. The view of the coast and the pristine blue waters of the Pacific Ocean were breathtaking; one of the main reasons I had purchased that house. Those waters seemed to calm me in some strange way. Each evening I usually sat in the chair, staring out at the scene, letting my mind go and just relaxing. Daisy would rest her head on my thigh and together we’d relive our days in Connecticut, when we were happy. At least I think she did the same as me, those soulful brown eyes just looked so sad that’s what she had to be thinking on. I would stroke her head, she would put her paw on my leg and we’d reminisce.

Tonight I had other things on my mind. Like this date Dianna wanted to set me up on.

“I dunno, Daisy…” I murmured as I smoothed my hand over her silky fur. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to date again.”

She shifted her head some, turning her gaze in my direction.

“I know it’s been two years … but sometimes it only feels like it was yesterday.” I watched her with a somber gaze. “I’m not over Hugh; I don’t think I ever will be.”

Daisy was my therapist to a point I think you could say. Since Hugh’s untimely departure, she has been the one that I have spoken to and not held back from. I think that’s because I know she isn’t going to tell anyone, or judge me. And in some weird way, when I talk to her and she watches me with those eyes, I think I can feel Hugh. I feel something touch me inside and stir my soul and all the uneasiness, sorrow, and fear fades away. It is in those brief moments that I finally feel at peace.

She lifted her head and nudged my hand with her wet nose.

I watched her, stroking her muzzle for a moment. “It’s okay to keep a part of him, isn’t it?”

She licked at my fingers.

“Is that a yes?” I sat up and smoothed both hands over her head. “Do you think it’s time we both moved on?”

As if in response, she gave a gentle bark and rose to all fours, wiggling some.

That surprised me and I lifted a brow, watching her. “Wow, about time, huh? Is that what you’re thinking?”

Daisy barked again then lifted her front legs off the floor for a moment. I watched as she nuzzled my hand then pulled back and paced before me, giving another soft yip.

“Is something wrong?” I swiveled to the side of the chair, placing both feet on the ground. She didn’t normally act this way.

With another woof, she lifted her front paws into the air again before pacing then turning and suddenly bolting into the house through the open French doors.

I stared at the spot she had just been standing before quickly jumping to my feet and following her. “Daisy!” Maybe she had to go potty, though usually in that case she’d just go to the door and wait patiently for me to let her outside.

But she didn’t stop; instead she cantered down the stairs and didn’t slow till she reached the sliding glass doors in the family room that led into the quaint backyard. And even then she continued to give her soft barks, looking my way and wiggling her body.

I was completely befuddled by this dog who was always so mild mannered and tame. “Okay, girl… calm down, it’s alright.” I reached for the door and undid the locks, sliding it open and watching as she sprinted outside. Maybe she had to potty really bad.

She got halfway to the middle of the yard before stopping and turning to face me, tilting her head to the side and giving another yelp.

Suddenly it dawned on me that maybe something was out there. Carefully, I stepped out onto the back patio and glanced around, the sun was slowly setting, leaving the sky streaked with brilliant hues of red-orange, yellow, pinks and purples and though it wasn’t dark, there were shadows cast across the ground that some small animal could easily hide in. “You see something out here, Daisy?”

She gave a woof and wiggled on all fours, waiting until I had stepped just off the back patio and into the grass before turning once more and heading straight for the edge of the yard. I watched bewildered as she reached the wooden stairs built into the cliff that looked out over the beach, and then with one glance and sharp bark in my direction, she disappeared down them.

“Daisy!” I started for the stairs in a hurried pace. Something strange had gotten into my dog and I had to rein her in before she was trying to swim across the Pacific to Hawaii or Japan.

By the time I got to the stairs and down them onto the beach, my chocolate Labrador was nowhere to be found. I felt a small panic and glanced around, careening my neck to peer further down the beach in either direction. “Daisy!?”

There was no response and I ran a hand through my blonde hair, pushing it from my face and spotting her tracks in the sand. Thank God. I could just follow those, hoping she didn’t get far before I caught up.

Wondering what on earth had gotten into her, I started the way she had taken, her path taking me back up closer to the cliff that jutted out over the sand. It was a few feet before they disappeared around a corner, leading into a little alcove. We were probably three houses down from mine, and knowing that this beach was private; I hoped no one would think I was a trespasser and report me to the police. I didn’t know too many of the neighbors.

“Daisy!” I called again as I rounded the corner and stopped, finding her sitting in the sand next to a white and brown Bernese Mountain dog with a silky coat and friendly eyes. The two were sniffing each other, her tail wiggling wildly in the sand, creating a groove.

Both heads turned as I came into view and the Burmese rose to its feet. Daisy gave a friendly bark, as if letting the other dog know I was family then she tilted her head at me and watched me in a way as if saying ‘what took you so long?’.

I shook my head, carefully keeping an eye on the other dog, though he had settled back into the sand after Daisy’s bark. “What is going on with you?” I snapped my fingers, motioning her to join me. “Get over here.”

But she just cocked her head, a childlike expression on her face.

Next to her, the Bernese was settling down into the sand.

“Daisy.” I frowned and motioned her to join me once more.

But she continued to sit on her rump, an action that was quickly annoying me. She had never before been this disobedient. Did dogs go through hormonal teenage years like people did? Because if so, then maybe she was in hers.

“What is your deal?” I took a step towards her and she plopped herself down into the sand next to the other dog.

I rubbed my forehead and glanced around in hopes of spotting the owner of the Bernese, but there wasn’t another soul in sight. He probably had come from the house up the steps and she had smelled him and gotten the crazy idea she wanted to meet him. She was fixed so I wasn’t worried about any mating and little puppies, but still. This was strange, even more so for my dog.

Deciding the other dog wasn’t going to hurt me if I approached; I moved to Daisy’s side and took hold of her collar, suddenly wishing I had the leash with me. With a swift tug, I soon had her on her feet. “Say goodnight to your boyfriend. We’re going home.”

She gave a little whine but didn’t object, and as I led her away, she turned towards the other dog once more, as if trying to tell him she would be back one day. I cast a glance back as well, finding him watching us with an indomitable expression.

Deeming the whole thing weird, I led her back along the path we had taken, not sure what to think of it or her behavior. “Maybe you’re lonely too.” I mused as I reached our section of the beach and started for the stairs. “You miss having a guy around I think.”

She nudged my leg with her nose and we were soon in the backyard. I finally released her collar and gave her head a little pat. “Everyone’s allowed to have a moment every now and then and that was yours. But no more for another few years, mmkay?”

She licked at my hand and I took that as an apology. Scratching gently behind her ears, I led her back into the house and closed the door, securing it behind me. “You’re forgiven.”

Watching as she trotted towards the kitchen, probably in search of her water dish, I gave a sigh and started for the stairs. Thinking back on Daisy’s behavior as I made my way towards my bathroom and a hot shower, I could only contribute it to the fact that she was lonely. And then I wondered if dogs could go on dates.

~*~*~*~*~

The night was precarious; darkness all around me so thick and black you couldn’t see a hand in front of your face. I could feel the fear in my veins and felt the beating of my heart pounding in my chest. Something was after me, something dark and ominous, so sinister that it would make Charles Manson look like a nice boy. I didn’t know what it was, but I could feel it closing in, the hairs on the nape of my neck standing straight up. I was running blindly in the blackness surrounding me. If I strayed off the path it would have me in a second flat. Nothing could stop it; it was after my own soul.

Trying to push my legs faster, I ducked my head and prayed nothing would trip me up. I knew if I fell, it would be on me and that would be it. Death, so ominous but something no one could avoid. When it came for you, when it was your time, that was it. There were no second chances. And those that did happen to be pulled back, those deemed lucky to have another try at life; well it simply hadn’t been their time. When it was time for you to go, you went.

It had been Hugh’s time, and soon it would be mine, because this thing would reach out to me, wrap its bony, ice cold fingers around my neck and squeeze the life from my body. I could feel the brush of something against my neck and a jolt went through me. I wasn’t ready to die yet; I wanted to live, for many more years. I wanted that happiness I once possessed back. I wanted those lazy Sunday morning brunches and car trips to Florida. I wanted laughter, joy, hugs and kisses.

Something snagged the back of my shirt and I struggled against it. Damnit, it wasn’t my time. I was going to fight it; I was going to live again. The chill moved down my back and goosebumps slowly spread, those icy fingers inching closer to my neck, trying to wrap around it. No! I struggled harder, feeling the fear spreading through my belly as the hand finally enclosed my throat. It began squeezing, choking the breath from my lungs. I fought it, but it was useless, I could feel the burning as my eyes began to water. This was it… it was over. It wasn’t supposed to end this way, I was supposed to live again. No!

With a cry, I jerked awake and sat bolt upright in the bed. My lungs heaved hard beneath the worn t-shirt, my eyes wide. I scanned the room then leaned over to the nightstand, flicking on the lamp. A warm glow filled the room and I rubbed my eyes, finding them damp. The dream still filled my head and I squeezed my eyes, trying to force it out. It was the same dream; the same dream for nearly two years. Something pursuing me, something so evil it made the worst serial killers seem tame.

Only tonight one thing was different. I fought it. Every other night I’d had the dream, when the fingers wrapped around my neck, I didn’t struggle. It was as if I was welcoming death. Each time I’d awake just before the last breath left my body. But tonight… I didn’t want to die. Suddenly I wanted to live.

Daisy moved up from her spot at the foot of the bed and nuzzled her nose into my side.

I opened my eyes and looked to her, stroking my hand along her side. “It’s okay, girl. Just another bad dream.”

She settled down onto the bed and shifted until she was right against me. Her eyes seemed to tell me it was okay and that she was there now. That I would be safe.

I smiled and leaned over, kissing her head. “You’re such a good doggie; even if you do run off to find yourself a boyfriend.” I scratched her head and shifted back to the bed, stretching out and letting her rest her head against my chest.

Daisy was a good companion and she tried to take care of me the best she could. But I missed having that body in the bed with me. I missed having that someone to come home to and share my life with. I missed Hugh. Tears began to fill my eyes and before I knew it, I was giving those silent sobs.

My Labrador was used to my behavior, for she licked my hand in that comforting way and nuzzled against me. She did her best and I was grateful to have her, but suddenly I wanted something more. I wanted to live and I wanted more.