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Authors: Julianne MacLean

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BOOK: The Color of the Season
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“Maybe you need to live in a pineapple under the sea for a while.”

Holly laughed again and the clock pendulum clicked steadily in the other room. The humor of the moment faded quickly, however. The mood turned melancholy. Again, I knew she was thinking of Leah.

“What’s his name?” I gently asked.

“Paul.”

“How did you meet him?”

“Med school,” she told me. “He was in his final year, I was just starting. Thanks to my dad—who made a few calls on Paul’s behalf—he got into a great neurosurgery program in Dallas, which is exactly what Paul always wanted. He’s from Texas originally.”

“I see.” I nodded my head in an exaggerated manner. “Your dad must
love
him. He probably has a church and reception hall already picked out for the perfect date in June.”

Holly gave me a warning look. “I would tell you to behave yourself, but you’re probably right. Dad adores him. He thinks he’s the cat’s meow.”

I detected a hint of cynicism in her tone as I watched her sip her coffee.

“What do
you
think?” I asked. “Will there be a June wedding?”

Holly sighed. “Not after everything that happened with Leah. I don’t think it would be wise for me to make any major life decisions right now.” She continued to hug her coffee mug in both hands. “Now that I think about it, it’s been that way for the past couple of years, ever since Leah was diagnosed. All I could do was keep gliding along. I feel like I’ve been living my life on auto-pilot.”

I stood up to refill my coffee cup, at least relieved to hear that Holly wasn’t tempted to rush into anything. “So is it serious with this guy?”

“I suppose.”

Returning to my stool and wondering why she hadn’t mentioned a significant other the night before when we were up all night talking, I set my mug on the counter. “That kind of sounds like an auto-pilot response.”

We gazed at each other intently, then she let out a sigh. “He’s an amazing man, Josh. Really. Smart, handsome, responsible. I’m very lucky.”

“But…” I prodded, leaning forward and feeling not the least bit guilty about urging her to rethink things.

What the hell was I doing? I’d just come out of a relationship with a woman who wanted to be with another man whose neck I wanted to wring. Now I was trying to become that “other guy” who couldn’t keep his hands off a woman who was already taken?

Holly set down her cup.

“What’s his family like?” I asked.

“His father owns an investment firm so they’re very well off. His mother didn’t have a career, though she sometimes does volunteer work. They’re a lot like my own parents I suppose.”

I nodded in understanding, and we quietly finished our coffees.

“I should probably get going,” I said, though I didn’t really want to leave, but it seemed the appropriate thing to say in that moment. “Thanks for the dinner and the use of your sofa. I enjoyed talking to you.” I rose to my feet.

“I enjoyed talking to you, too.” Holly followed me to the back hall where my jacket hung on a hook. “But some of the things we talked about still seem so…unanswered.”

“You mean about Riley?” I asked as I slid my arms into the sleeves of my jacket.

“And Leah,” she replied. “What happened to you during your surgery was incredible all on its own, but then you talked to my sister—if that’s what really happened. I don’t know how you’re getting by without knowing what it all means. Whether it was real or not. Part of me thinks we should put you in a lab and do experiments on you.”

“That sounds like a whole lot of fun.” We walked to the front door. “You know, it’s strange,” I said, pausing on the braided rug. “A month ago, I never gave a single thought to heaven or the idea that we might actually have souls. I’ll admit I was arrogant about that kind of thing. I thought people who believed in their “higher selves” weren’t operating on all four cylinders. I thought I knew everything about who and what we are—that when we die, it’s game over; pure nothingness—but now I feel completely…humbled. At the same time, I think I saw things most people can’t even dream of. Maybe that’s arrogant too.”

Holly gazed at me, looking bewildered.

“I should get going,” I said again when she made no comment.

Moving to the door, I waited for her to open it, then stepped out onto the covered porch.

“Will you let me know if you’re going to get in touch with Riley? I’d like to see him myself, but I don’t want to get in your way.”

Holly stood in the doorway, holding the screen door open. “I’ll keep you posted. The first thing I need to do is talk to my parents and tell them what you told me. See how they feel about moving forward. And you have my cell number, right?”

I nodded. “And you have mine? Call or text any time, Holly, because Lord knows I’ve got nothing else to do for the next five weeks.”

She smiled and waved good-bye as I walked down the steps, going easy on my sore leg, as best I could.

Chapter Thirty-two

That night, I dreamed I was back at work, alone in a squad car, pursuing a speeding black vehicle on the Interstate.

Rain came down in buckets and I could barely see through the water sloshing down my windshield.

I increased the wiper speed and they beat back and forth in front of me like two upside-down clock pendulums, but nothing could clear away the watery blur.

I was driving dangerously fast. Though I gripped the steering wheel tightly in both hands until my knuckles turned white, I still felt as if I had no control. I feared that at any second, my tires would skid and I would spin around a dozen times and tumble down the embankment.

Suddenly the guy I was chasing hit the brakes. His vehicle flipped over and flew into the air. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as I drove under his airborne car and looked up at the undercarriage—like an airplane over my head.

It was a mistake to take my attention off the road, because the instant I faced forward again, I slammed my foot on the brake pedal to avoid a woman pushing a baby carriage across the street.

It was too late. My front grill collided with the carriage. It flew up into the air, over my head—just like the speeding vehicle.

The baby, swaddled in a white blanket, landed on the hood of my car and bounced across the windshield.

I woke in a panic, sat bolt upright.
“No!”

Breathing heavily, I lay a hand on my bare chest. My heart was pounding like a drum. I was completely drenched in sweat.

Taking a few deep, slow breaths, I lay back down and blinked up at the ceiling. Why did I dream that? What did it mean?

After a few minutes, I knew I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I switched on the light and got up.

Release

Chapter Thirty-three

Holly James

It’s funny how some days are dull and unremarkable—a small fleck of gray in the tapestry of your life—while others are like explosions of color that can define your entire existence, from the moment of your birth until you draw your last breath.

The day Josh Wallace walked through my door and spent the night on my sofa turned out to be one of those days.

Or maybe the word “explosion” is putting it too mildly.

Chapter Thirty-four

Since I’d already taken three weeks off from school to remain at Leah’s bedside during her final days, attend her funeral and hobble through the initial stages of my grief, I knew I couldn’t continue to avoid school much longer. After Josh left that Sunday morning, I sent an email to one of my instructors and asked what would be happening on Monday.

I was told there would be a brief oral exam on obstetrics. He gave me the option to postpone, but since I had the entire day to prepare and I was a rock star when it came to hitting the books, I promised to be there.

o0o

Three hours later, I sat at the desk in my room eating a bowl of leftover lasagne when a car door slammed shut outside. Rising from my chair, I crossed to the window, pushed the lace curtain aside with my finger, and looked down at the driveway below.

My parents were unpacking the car and heading for the door with their suitcases.

“Darn it,” I whispered, glancing back at my dirty bowl of lasagne on the desk and wondering where I was going to hide it, because there were very strict rules in the house about taking food up to the bedrooms.

All my life I’d followed those rules without challenging them—I’d seen what happened to Riley; it really wasn’t worth the fight—but if there was an opportunity to do what I wanted when my parents were away, I seized it. Afterward, I cleaned up my mess so no one was the wiser… But suddenly here they were, home earlier than expected, and my room smelled like an Italian restaurant.

I thought about shoving the dirty bowl under my bed, lowering the dust ruffle and opening the window to let some fresh air blow through—but something in me felt different that day. At the time, I thought maybe it was my stress levels due to the exam. Or maybe something inside me had changed after losing my sister. Suddenly, stupid details like where food could be consumed within the house seemed rather irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

Or maybe I was just cranky and defiant from drinking too much coffee.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Knowing I should go downstairs to welcome my parents home, I decided to proudly carry my lasagne bowl to the kitchen without trying to sneak it past my father’s notice.

That decision turned out to be a grave mistake.

Or maybe it was the smartest thing I’d ever done.

Chapter Thirty-five

“Welcome home,” I cheerfully said as I descended the red carpeted stairs with dirty dishes in my hands.

My father stopped in the main hall and set down his suitcase. “What is that?” he asked.

As if befuddled by the question, I regarded my cup and bowl and held them out for him to see. “You mean
these
?”

His expression became a mask of stone. “Yes,
those
. Did you take food up to your room?”

I pursed my lips. “Yes, I did. I was studying for an exam and I was hungry.”

He took a few steps forward and spoke in a tone that conveyed his shock and disappointment in me. “You know the rules, Holly. Why would you do that?”

“Because I was hungry,” I explained a second time, moving past him to the kitchen. I pulled open the dishwasher door and placed the items inside.

“But there are
rules
,” he reminded me yet again, for the millionth time in my life. “Even when your mother and I are not at home, they still apply, and there are reasons for those rules.”

“Like what?” I demanded.

“Like getting stains on furniture, or attracting mice or insects. But that’s not really the point, Holly. Without rules that everyone agrees to respect, things can degenerate into pure chaos.”

I gestured toward the dishwasher. “I’m not a total slob, Dad. I had a napkin on my lap and we do have laundry facilities if, heaven forbid, a drop of tomato sauce should land on a bedspread.”

With that, I moved to the kitchen doorway to hug my mother. “Hi Mom. I’m glad you’re home. Did you have a nice time?”

“Oh well, you know…” She was, of course, alluding to the fact that we were all still grieving deeply over Leah. “It was nice to just be quiet for a few days, come to terms with everything—though I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be able to do that.”

I drew back to look at her in the late afternoon light. “It’s going to take time for all of us. We just have to be here for each other.”

She pulled me into her arms again and I was vaguely aware of my father moving past us to carry the suitcases upstairs.

o0o

A short while later, we stood around the kitchen island while Mom made turkey sandwiches for herself and Dad.

“Did Paul make it home all right?” my father asked, surprising me by letting the food-in-the-bedroom issue go without doling out consequences.

“Yes,” I replied. “He called this morning. Smooth flight. No delays.”

“Glad to hear it. And what’s the exam on tomorrow?”

“Obstetrics.”

“Are you ready for it?”

“Not yet,” I admitted, “but I still have the rest of the day to prepare.”

Mom sliced both sandwiches diagonally. “Don’t you have a karate class later?” she asked.

Using a fork to draw a pickle out of the jar, I took it between my fingers and crunched into it. “I do, but I’ll need a break by then.”

“Are you sure?” Dad asked. “You’re taking a break now. Maybe you should skip the class.”

I shook my head. “No. I’m going.”

He regarded me with puzzled displeasure.

We all sat down on the stools around the large center island while Mom and Dad ate their sandwiches and told me about their weekend on the Cape. I waited until the right moment, then carefully broached the subject that was foremost on my mind.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” I rested my chin on my hand. “Something happened yesterday while you were gone. We had an unexpected guest.”

BOOK: The Color of the Season
12.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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