REBORN (Metamorphosis Book 1)

REBORN

Metamorphosis Series

Book One

Marissa Williams

REBORN

Metamorphosis Series

Book One

This book is a work of fiction.  Any references to real people, places, or events are used for fictional purposes.  Names, story line, characters, events and incidents are either the product of the writer's imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to persons leaving or dead is coincidental.

Copyright 2015 by Marissa Williams

All rights reserved.  Except permitted under the U. S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying or recording, or stored in a database or retrieval system, or transmitted by email without the prior written permission of the author.

ISBN: 978-0-9963260-0-1 (eBook)

This book is dedicated to my mom and to all the strong, independent women who came before me and inspired me to pursue my dreams.  Also to my amazing children who have supported me throughout this process, and last but not least to my remarkable husband who stood by my side while I pursued this crazy idea.

CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Metamorphosis, means profound change, transformation…

Like an egg, once cracked it is still an egg; but is it the same?  Am I the same?

Prologue

We are lying on the bed, barely awake. "Good morning," he says with a smile on his face.

I turn to him. "Good morning, my love."

"Te amo," he tells me, looking at me with hooded eyes.

"Te adoro," I respond as my lips find his.

It is a glorious morning.

The sound of the alarm wakes me from the most wonderful and vivid dream.  What is going on with my brain?  Perhaps it was something I ate.  The reality is that there is no man in my life and to be perfectly honest I have no interest in one. 

What I'm interested in is not missing my flight, so I jump out of bed and head to the bathroom to get ready for my flight to America.  I can't help but peek at the mirror and notice the smile on my face.  I have changed, if only on the surface; I know I look different but inside I'm still a small town girl. 

Chapter One

I don’t know when I decided that it was time to let go.  When was the moment when it was better to be alone than to be together?  The relationship had been cracked for sometime now, but neither Julian nor I were willing to walk away; he was too decent a man to quit, too stubborn.  I was too afraid of the loneliness, of the unknown.  At the end, it was an inconsequential event that pushed us over the precipice…one of those things that under different circumstances would have made us laugh, one of those quirks that meant nothing; yet it meant everything in the wrong hands at the wrong time.

"Enough of that for now," I said, shaking my head briefly as if to get rid of the memory.  The clatter coming from the L riding along our side as the taxi headed downtown brought me back to the present.  In the distance I could see the majestic skylines, with peaks piercing the clouds.   I was back in Chicago, my beloved city.  Perhaps these thoughts kept pouring in because I was back where it all happened, where it started, where it ended.  The cab ride from O'Hare to downtown Chicago felt longer than usual.  I had been gone for only two months and yet everything felt different.  The air was crisp and I noticed signs of autumn fast approaching.

My cell phone rang, waking me up from my reverie. "Mom, you're back?  Why didn’t you call? We would have picked you up from the airport," Vickie scolded sweetly into the phone.  My oldest daughter Victoria, always so helpful!  In so many ways she was like me during my younger years.  Always eager to please, to be there for others and not for myself. 

"I figured I'd surprise you all and save you the time to drive to the airport during rush hour."

"Mom, it's only two o'clock, what are you talking about?  You've been gone for two months and we're all dying to see you in person. Can you think of us instead of yourself for a change?"

That was another way that Vickie was like me; it was so easy for her to make others feel guilty about their choices!  Despite the guilt, the reality was that I was not ready to deal with anyone, not even my three children whom I adored more than life.  I just needed a few days alone to get settled into my home and adjust to my new life before facing the world and its responsibilities.  And so she was right, I was being selfish and thinking only of myself rather than the family I'd left behind.

"I know we have a lot of catching up to do, but I just flew four thousand miles and feel drained.  I will see you all tomorrow or Friday if you prefer.  I just need to catch up from the jet lag.  Perhaps you guys can come to the apartment and then we can go to lunch.  But this afternoon I just need to adjust to being in this time zone."  I wanted to see my family, don’t get me wrong.  Yet at this moment I just didn’t want to face anyone.

"Okay Mom, I will talk to Emily and Damien and let them know you are in town.  I'm sure they will want to see you tomorrow.  We all missed you, including Dad," said Vickie in resignation and with a hint of frustration, her desire to please me overriding her need to see me.

"Love you baby, I missed you too.  Can't wait to see you," I responded, ignoring the last guilt-filled comment about her father.

The taxi moved through the crowded Chicago streets, competing with double- parked vehicles and hurried pedestrians.  The sounds of the city were everywhere, from the blast of sirens to the honk of cars.  It was mesmerizing! A smile popped onto my face. "I'm home."

In the midst of the hustle and bustle, the cab turned into a quiet residential street, a secluded lakefront community not far from the Magnificent Mile with a mixture of single-family homes and high-rise condominiums.  Before I knew it I was standing in front of my new apartment building on Chicago's Gold Coast, a beautiful turn-of-the century building … I stepped out of the cab and into a new life.

I have called Chicago my hometown for the past thirty-five years despite the fact that I have lived in the western suburb of Hinsdale for the last twenty.  For years I have looked at the city from afar, like a child captivated by the Christmas windows in the big department stores, never being able to touch, to get too close.  And now, out of the ashes of my divorce, I owned a place in a prime Chicago location that most could only dream of and few could afford.

I had been married to a successful tax attorney; the divorce settlement had left me with enough money to buy my new home and fulfill a lifetime dream to spend time in Paris.  I had owned this place for only three months, and two thirds of that time I was gone exploring the world.

"Welcome back, Ms. McCabe; here, let me help you with your luggage."

"Thank you Tom, it's good to be back," I responded, awestruck once again by the beauty of the lobby and impressed by the warm atmosphere.

The elevator ride to the fourteenth-floor seemed interminable and when I opened the door to my apartment and stepped inside, the view took my breath away.  In front of me was the spectacular sight of Lake Michigan.  The blue from both the water and the sky took over my senses and my heart started beating faster, my eyes watering.  I was overtaken by emotion, by the surreal feeling that this place, this view was mine. 

Everything looked as I left it.  The familiar sight of the few pieces of furniture I brought from the old house as well as the pictures of my kids at different stages of their development warmed my heart.  I wanted a very minimalistic feeling to my place and bought only the very basic pieces of furniture I needed, all in earth colors and dark woods.  The combination of old and new, of my old world and the one yet to emerge, was compelling. A large painting by Mexican artist Alejandro Romero depicting a combination of Mexican and African motifs adorned the fireplace and provided a splash of color to the otherwise muted living room. More art on the walls, this time by Dominican artist Candido Bidó, provided additional splashes of color in the dining area.  The kitchen also had more art on the walls, depicting several roosters by a Chicano artist I met on a trip to Texas.  All featured colors that made me happy, deep yellows, splashes of orange and red with touches of brown; stunning!

Art was my passion and it was evident everywhere you turned.  But the art paled in comparison to the natural wonders outside my windows, the different shades of blue, the white puffiness of the clouds, the creamy color of the sand, and, if I turned right, the Ferris wheel on Navy Pier.

My spirits lifted as I walked through my new home.  I felt energized and lighter than I had felt since my decision to return to Chicago two weeks earlier than my anticipated arrival.  When I received news from Ron about the job offer at the Art Institute, I knew I was going to need time to settle in and readjust before the job began.  I was thrilled about the opportunity to work in a place that I love surrounded by beautiful art. My job, working as liaison between different museums and the school system, was a dream come true.