Authors: Elizabeth Lowe
An
hour passed since Candy's departure.
Seated in dazed acceptance, dropping the spoon stirring her coffee
endlessly into her saucer with a little clatter, Sam began describing absent
circles with her finger on the table.
Tears stained her eyes, grief mingled with a look of bleak infinite
hopelessness on her face.
Feeling
outside herself, she peered at a pitiful bereaved skeleton.
Heaving a big sorry-for-herself sigh, she
rubbed her fingers over aching temples.
Slumping like a rag doll across the table, she sobbed oblivious to the
silent figure watching.
What
could she say?
What could she do, Bernie
felt utterly, useless.
She did not find
Candy's informative visit as surprising as Sam did.
She suspected there was more to Brad's
story.
It was burdensome to watch Sam’s expressions
change as Candy's story unfolded.
Knowing Sam needed time alone to contemplate their visitor's
enlightenment, Bernie returned to her customers.
Candy
became pregnant by another man before meeting and falling madly in love with
Brad.
Wanting desperately to be part of
his life, on their last date she encouraged his drinking to an inebriated state
to convince him they had sex, when in fact, he never touched her.
Due to other unfortunate events of the
evening, which Candy refused to explain, he returned to New York without
her.
They continued their relationship
through letters and calls until the pressures of beginning a new business began
to consume Brad’s life.
All
communication between them ceased for months before mustering enough nerve to
inform him of her pregnancy.
She did not
want to trap him, frightened if he suspected it wasn't his child she'd loose
him forever.
Despite
her parents insisting on knowing whom the father was, she refused until the
baby was born.
A beautiful baby girl,
with skin, hair, and eyes that favored Brads’.
Candy knew her parents were not financially capable of supporting the
two of them so when they insisted she put the baby up for adoption, she
confessed Brad was the father.
When Brad
refused to believe the baby was his, her parents gave an ultimatum - seek a
paternity suit or give up the baby.
Brad's attorney demanded a blood test.
When
the results were in, instead of being angry, Brad immediately flew home to
visit her bringing flowers and a beautiful new dress.
They dined and spent the evening discussing
why she lied and what her plans were for the future.
The following morning he insisted together
they would tell her parents the truth.
Borrowing
money from his parents helped Candy get by until Brad made other
arrangements.
Within a month, he secured
an apartment in New York and sent for her.
Included in the package was a position within his company, paid tuition
for modeling school and the best day care possible for her daughter.
Beaming,
Candy explained she recently married a wonderful, successful man in England,
and was living out her dream of a modeling career.
Her success and happiness was all thanks to
Brad.
She had tried numerous times to
return the monthly checks he continued to send her, but he maintained Amy
needed a trust fund for college.
It was
the least he could do for his God Child.
Hands
cupping her face Brad's words rang in Sam’s ears, “You're a child.
There's a lot you, don't know, would never
understand.
When you find it in your
heart. . .
I'm crazy in love with you. .
.
Send me the rose.
I'll come to you.”
Suddenly
torn away the black veil masking the face of the man in Sam's dreams revealing
it was Brad all along.
Not only was he
the devil of seduction that took her maidenhead, but the man in all the novels
she read.
The very image of the man she
dreamed of one day loving since a child.
Her fear they could never be one in the same never offered him the
opportunity to explain.
After all,
everyone knows little girl’s dreams rarely come true.
From
the moment she met Brad inflicted she was with an incurable illness - love, the
stinging inner ember disguised as hate.
She had been unable to deal with it by reason or, will or, even sanity.
Voluntarily surrendering, her heart was
trying to warn her of the truth.
She
should have known a heart would not lie.
Love is forever and she wondered whatever made her think she could fight
its power.
Now
was too late, she took the fatal step for which there was no forgiveness, a
mistake unable to be rectified.
Not
only did she ruin her life but Ted’s, and Brad’s, and her unborn child, her
punishment forever living an alibi - a life of disguise.
A
pang of vexation, of animosity began to bubble deep in the very hollow of her
as hostile emotions gained ground on shock.
The longer she sat the more the bubbles of hatred exploded and
multiplied and ate away at her insides.
Invisible fingers choked her with realities spiteful, piercing
pain.
Her stomach rolled as she fortified
herself for the worst confrontation she would ever face.
Why did Ted tell her such horrible lies about
his closest friend?
CHAPTER 47
“JULY, 2011”
Swirls
of smoke stretching upward filtering through the narrow gaps of trees disappeared
into the bleak sky.
A steady drizzle of
rain pattering on the sagging moss covered roof seeped through holes created
from years of decay.
Rendering a calming
melody tiny droplets splattered into pans arranged on sparse dilapidated
furniture and worn wooden flooring.
The
downpour washing a pair of matching windows on opposing ends of the structure
hammered the warm earth creating an impenetrable fog corkscrewing heavenward.
A citadel of pine trees camouflaging the
shabby miners’ cabin managed to block out mother natures’ signs of summer.
Scrap,
and seasoned wood clapboards making up the shell concealed two mediocre size
rooms.
Stones from a nearby creek
haphazardly stacked and mortared fashioned a crooked chimney, the same stones
used internally for the hearth crowned with a decayed beam for a mantel.
Varying size planks on the narrow porch and
interior floor boasted wear from years of inhabitants who had trod upon them,
and despite having been nailed, and re-nailed continued to defy man by warping
into their own symmetry.
Patches of
grass encircled the perimeter, the remaining dirt and stone rinsed clean of
amphibian footprints and those of the cabins only occupant.
No
breeze stimulated the caps of the stately tree's forming a battalion protecting
the cabin.
A creek swelling over its
embankments contorting in its search for a route from the snow kissed crest of
the mountains to the river below was the only sound.
Raccoons, rabbits, bear, deer were given no
choice but to find shelter within the thickets, and yet, surveying the scene
one might believe heavens portals awaited trespassers in this one tranquil,
cultivated patch in the wilderness.
There
were no legal documents establishing ownership of the property.
The laws of nature designated the owners to
be whoever needed shelter just as Ted and Brad while young boys on their first
camping venture alone.
One night taking
shelter inside the cabin by the fire each made a small cut in their index
finger to seal their promise never to reveal its location to anyone.
Not even their parents knew of its existence
though it was only a two-hour hike from the ranches below.
Throughout
their adolescent year’s the boys returned frequently to share significant
moments forming the foundation of their friendship, nostalgic memories that
would last a lifetime.
Formulated within
its walls were the aspirations and strategies for their future as they sat in
front of the fireplace now a blur in Ted's vision.
How appropriate, he mused, the finale’ come
to pass where all their dreams began.
Poking at the fire dancing in the grate shrouded by clammy, moldy air,
he became lost in miserable reflections.
Appearing
a shell of a man Ted sat in a rickety rocking chair, brawny muscles eaten away
by the lack of exercise and nourishment, his eyes opaque, empty, and
unspeakably intense.
The same limpid,
aqua marine eyes, that once shone of bright intelligence, arrogance and glinted
with humor, were now strangely glazed, almost inhuman.
Drained of its golden tan his handsome
energetic face registered frank disappointment as his jaw clenched and muscles
twitched.
Tears creeping over the crevices under his eyes, down shallow
cheeks, through a thick sandy beard dampened the collar of a soiled white
shirt.
He
took no time for a change of apparel or toiletries.
There would be no need for them.
Empty cans of sardines, beans, and beer
strewn about constituted his diet, sufficient nutrition to maintain his
strength and sanity until . . .
He
had been relatively unaware of walking a dangerous tightrope all of his life
until Samantha came along.
She was a
whiff of spring air, sweet, innocent, undaunted by humanities evil ways.
He sincerely believed winning her love,
possessing her, would be his only chance at becoming a person worthy of her
love.
All
his life he doubted his capacity for love of course, he loved Brad, but he
loved Samantha more.
For unknown reasons
he had been blessed twice, a rare phenomenon in some ones’ lifetime.
Foolishly, he chose to gamble and lost.
It was as if the two
most portentous people in his world held a magic mirror in front of him
exposing his inner self.
He hated what
he saw, so to prove himself deserving of their love, he dared to do the
unthinkable.
A sob raised in his
throat.
Like an abandoned child, he
wept.
Struggling
to regain a semblance of coherence, he reached for the pistol resting on the
table.
What seemed like the hundredth
time he challenged the odds by spinning the chamber. Positioning cold, hard
steal against his skull he summoned the courage to pull the trigger.
There
was no other plausible way to rid himself of Sam's memory, or to exonerate
himself for the horrible things he had done to her and Brad.
He was unworthy of their love.
“Sam,” he whispered, the sound of her name
causing a quick intake of breath and a sob to stall in his chest.
His eyes closed in pleasure.
As
his finger teetered on the trigger, he wondered why Brad had not come.
What was taking him so long?
Surely, he would track him down.
He was the only one who knew where to find
him.
He was certain he had left
sufficient clues.
It was befitting that
his, best friend, no, brother find him first, they had a great deal to discuss,
to account for, he lived for that moment.
That is unless when he pulled the trigger his luck ran out.