The Color of the Season

The Color of the Season

A Color of Heaven Novel

by

Julianne MacLean

The Color of the Season

Copyright © 2014 Julianne MacLean

ISBN-13: 978-1-927675-21-2

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or a portion thereof, in any form.
This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others.

This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Cover Design: The Killion Group, Inc.

Cover Image: Charles Doucet/BookCoverArt.ca

Formatting: Author E.M.S.

Prologue

Josh Wallace

This past holiday season, I received the greatest gift imaginable—the gift of love. Or maybe it was the gift of life, or wisdom, or a combination of all those things. I’m still not entirely sure. All I know is that I am transformed.

Sometimes I look back on what happened and wonder if it was some kind of stress-induced hallucination. The doctor I told tried to convince me of that, but others were open-minded about my experience and admitted freely that they didn’t have all the answers. That what happened to me was outside their realm of experience.

What I am referring to is my unexpected encounter with the afterlife.

Who would have guessed that such remarkable things would happen to a man like me? A cop who carried a gun, never went to church, and considered any type of spiritualism to be silly new age stuff. That was for people who were weak and afraid of the real world, people who needed something else to believe in. Something to help them cope. Or so I thought.

I’ll be the first to admit I was naive in that area, and I viewed the world, and my place in it, very superficially.

“What you see is what you get,” I used to say.

Who knew there was so much more beneath, and above, the surface of absolutely everything?

Chapter One

A heavy rain was falling when I got out of bed that fateful morning, which seemed fitting, considering I was about to get dumped. I’d felt it in my gut all through the night, churning inside me like a rancid meal. I’d hardly slept a wink.

I rose from bed and stood at the paned window of my Boston flat, watching violent gusts of wind sweep raindrops across the asphalt in the street. Mist rose up from the ground, while leaves on the maple trees along the sidewalk fluttered and the branches swayed.

My body tensed and my head throbbed as I imagined Carla out there somewhere, ignoring my calls.

Because she was with
him
.

What were they doing right now? I wondered irritably. At this very moment?

I bowed my head and leaned forward over the white windowsill, bracing my weight on my knuckles and clenched fists, breathing deep and slow.

Hell
. I needed a cup of coffee.

Turning away from the window, I moved into the kitchen to brew a pot, then poured myself a bowl of cereal, which I ate on the sofa while watching the sports channel on television.

I checked my phone again for a text from Carla. Still…nothing.

A part of me wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, because I knew I wasn’t the most rational guy in the world when it came to cheating girlfriends. I’d been burned once before, so I had a small problem with jealousy.

But what if she’d been in a car accident on her way home yesterday and was in a coma at the hospital and couldn’t get in touch? If that was the case, I was going to feel pretty guilty.

But it wasn’t the case, and I knew it. I’d have heard something.

No, she hadn’t texted or called because she didn’t know how to tell me it was over. She felt badly about standing me up for dinner the other night and probably wasn’t ready to face me and explain herself.

I felt a muscle twitch at my jaw.

Setting my empty cereal bowl down, I rested my elbows on my knees and stared at the blue velvet ring box on the coffee table.

Thirty-five hundred bucks
. That’s how much that gigantic sucker had cost, and I’d had no choice but to set up a financing plan with monthly payments because I didn’t have that kind of cash just sitting around. I probably should have chosen something smaller, but I wanted to make an impression.

Looking back on it, I suppose I thought—with my limited view of the world at the time—that the bigger and flashier the ring, the more tempting my offer would be.

I reached forward to open the box.

Yep, it was one blindingly gorgeous ring. If she could just see it and give me a chance to pop the question… Surely there was still hope. She barely knew the other guy.

In that moment, my phone vibrated with an incoming text. I quickly picked it up.

Chapter Two

A half hour later, I opened my front door to find Carla standing on my veranda, shivering in the wind and rain. Her long blond hair was pulled up in a clip at the back, and she looked as classy as ever.

It was astounding, how physically attracted I was to her. Even now.

Especially
now.

“Hey,” I coolly said. “Come in.”

I lived on the second-floor apartment of a century home that had been converted into a rental property, so there wasn’t much room in the narrow entrance hall. It certainly wasn’t an ideal location to hold a conversation about the rest of our lives together, so I started up the stairs.

“Want a cup of coffee?” I asked, more than a little aware of the chill in my tone, but I couldn’t mask it. I was pissed.

“Sure,” she replied, unbuttoning her belted trench coat as she followed.

We reached the second level and I went to pour her a cup while she hung her coat and purse on a hook in the hall. By the time she joined me in the kitchen, I was stirring in the cream and sugar.

“Here.” I held out the mug.

She accepted it without meeting my gaze and glanced around the apartment. “Thank you.”

An ominous silence ensued. The tension was thick as mud.

“Should we go and sit down?” she suggested.

I nodded and gestured toward the sofa in the living room, where we’d spent many evenings wrapped in each other’s arms, watching late night movies.

She chose the leather chair by the window, however, which I considered a bad sign.

I sank onto the sofa and watched her sip her coffee. Still she hadn’t looked me in the eye. Then, at last, she set the cup down on the table. Naturally, after she called, I’d moved the ring box and placed it in a drawer in my bedroom. At least for now.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” Carla said at last. “I hope you were able to cancel the reservations without any trouble.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not like they bill you for it.”

She nodded and looked down at the floor. “No, of course not.”

Another awkward silence rolled through the room, then she cupped her forehead with her hand and shook her head. “God, I’m really sorry, Josh. You’re angry with me and you have every right to be. I know things have been…
strained
between us lately.”

“Have they?” I asked, needing her to elaborate, because honestly, I’d thought everything was fine. Well, mostly fine. Maybe there was a part of me that knew she didn’t belong to me completely, and that’s why I’d bought the ring.

Carla let out a sigh. “Yes. I think maybe, we moved a little too fast, right from the beginning. We’d both been through some rough times with relationships that didn’t end well, and that’s why we wanted so badly for this to work.”

“I thought it
was
working,” I replied. “And I’m still not convinced it isn’t. We’ve been together almost a year, Carla, and we’re good together. You know that. We have great chemistry and we both want the same things—to get married someday and raise a family. Everything was fine until…”

I stopped myself, because I needed to hear
her
say it.

“Until I flew to Canada to be with Seth in the hospital,” she replied.

The muscles in my shoulders clenched.

A few months ago, Carla had received a phone call about her late husband, Seth, who had died in a plane crash the year before. But apparently they’d found him alive—or so they thought. In the end, it turned out that the man floating on an iceberg in the middle of the North Atlantic wasn’t Carla’s husband after all, but some other passenger on the plane who had claimed Seth’s belongings.

The man’s name was Aaron Cameron—and I wanted to wring his scrawny neck.

Carla sat forward. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something happened to me when I was in Newfoundland, and I’m as confused by it as you must be. All I know is that I need to figure this out, and in order to do that, I have to be with Aaron.”

My gut squeezed with nausea. I shut my eyes, clenched both hands into fists. “You barely know him. You spent a couple of days with him in the hospital, and now you think he’s the great love of your life.”

“I’m sorry,” she continued in a gentle tone. “I wish you knew how hard this has been for me. I hate doing this, but I don’t want to lead you on, or heaven forbid, cheat on you while I figure out what I want.”

My eyes flew open. “Figure it out? So you’re not even sure?”

She sat back and stared at me. “Like you said, I barely know him, but there’s something between us that…” She paused. “I don’t know how to explain it, Josh, but it just feels right. It’s as if we were meant to find each other and I need to explore that.”

Meant to find each other? Seriously?

Reeling with frustration, I rose to my feet and went into the kitchen to pace around for a minute or two. After I cooled the anger in my blood, I returned to the living room and stood on the carpet, facing her.

“We have a good thing here,” I said, “but you want to throw it all away for a guy you’ve only spent a few days with? I thought you were the rational type with both feet on the ground, but maybe I don’t know you as well as I thought I did. Maybe the so-called ‘magic of the universe’ is doing me a favor here, because I sure as hell wouldn’t walk away from what we have to go on some ridiculous quest for my
soul mate
. You know I don’t believe in that crap, and I sure as hell hope you don’t expect me to wait around for you while you go and do that.”

She stared at me with something that resembled pity. It only served to piss me off even more.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” she said, “but you’re right, I suppose. The universe is doing you a favor, because this isn’t meant to be. If it was, everything would be clear. All the pieces would have fallen into place.”

“It
was
clear,” I reminded her. “At least, it was for me. And you don’t really believe that, do you? That the universe will take care of everything? We have to take control of our lives, Carla, and make things happen the way we want them to happen.”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t take control,” she argued. “I’m just saying that sometimes you have to follow your gut.”

“And your gut is telling you that you should run off with a guy you barely know,” I reiterated. “That sounds really intelligent.” I tapped my forefinger on my temple. “Good to see you’re using the old noggin for these major life decisions.”

“I’m sorry, Josh. I never meant to hurt you.”

Well, you did
.

My stomach lurched.

“You can show yourself out,” I eventually said.

All the color drained from her face. Then she stood up.

I stepped out of the way to let her pass. Slowly, she collected her coat and purse from the hook on the wall while I stood watching with a tight jaw that made my entire skull throb.

Don’t go
, I wanted to say.
Please stay.
You’re making a mistake
.
We can work this out
.
I have a ring for you in the other room. Would that change your mind if I offered it to you now?