Inspiration 16

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Today, we will explore first love, young love, born out of the evil that men do.

Trista and Townes:

A teenage girl that witnesses her mother's murder would undoubtedly be traumatized. In seeking comfort, Trista made poor choices, choices with consequences, but found love despite the beginning.

Parker, Ray's son, literally sat between Trista Gautier and Townes Johnson for his uncle at the Christmas gathering. "You're too close to each other," he told them with a wilting look. Little did anyone know just how close they were.

Trista had been severely depressed since her mother's death. Raif had tried on numerous occasions to talk to her and spend extra time with her, but she seemed to push him away. So, when his daughter came into Raif's home office in April and said, "Dad, I need to talk to you," he was greatly relieved.

Raif swiveled on his drafting stool and asked, "What about, baby?"

Trista seemed nervous, shuffling her feet and looking at the floor. "I sure am glad you're not Uncle Ray," she mumbled. "If I were Courtney, he would strangle me."

"What would make you say that? You haven't done anything that bad. You're too sweet."

"You won't think so for long."

Trista looked so much like her mother Raif found it hard to be angry with her, but the way she was acting worried him. "Talk to me, baby," he said with love.

"Dad!" Trista flung her arms around Raif's neck and began to sob.

Raif held her tightly and soothed her long dishwater-blonde hair. "Shh, baby. It's all right. We're all going to be all right. It just takes time. I love you. Now, shush."

"Oh, Dad, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"For what, baby? What happened wasn't your fault."

"Do you really love me?"

"You know I love you. What's wrong?" Raif held Trista at arms' length.

She blinked back more tears and took a breath. "Dad, I'm pregnant."

At the reception, Courtney caught the bouquet. Ray whispered in her ear, "A long time."

She nodded. "As you say, Daddy, 'You know it.'" She laughed. "I'm only fifteen."

Standing beside Courtney, Tasha Johnson, only eleven months older than her brother, Townes, nodded agreement. "You can have it. I don't want it. It'll be a real long time for me."

Patrick ducked so as not to catch the garter. It landed squarely in Raif’s hand.

"I have another precious Christine. Pap and Neely and Uncle Patrick are going for a visit next week. Trista and Townes are doing great. It appears they really do love each other. I heard you fussing at me. I needed it.

Patrick and Jenna:

 A few hours later, Patrick and half a dozen fraternity brothers wandered into a strip club on Bourbon Street. "Whoa!" Patrick said as he watched an exotic Cleopatra lose everything but her headdress.

"That one might just be a painted-up hussy." Todd snickered behind a bottle of beer.

Patrick rolled his eyes at his friend. "Just because these girls dance, does not mean they're hookers."

"Uh-huh."

When the girl came on stage, Patrick leaned in to get a better view. "Now this one is breathtaking. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! She can cast a spell on me any time."

Somewhat petite, she looked like a fairy, costume and all. Sheer green silk fell in front of Patrick. He reached out and let the material trail across his hand. When the music stopped, the girl bent to retrieve her scarf and their eyes met. She graced him with an innocent smile.

Last performance of the night. She'll be leaving. Patrick turned to his friends. "We need to go."

The guys left, and Patrick looked around as if searching for something. Ah. At the bus stop. He started over. Todd reached for him. "Don't go over there."

He did not listen. "Excuse me," he said with a hand on the post of the bus stop sign.

The girl started and pulled her jacket more tightly at her throat.

The young man continued, "I just wanted to tell you I thought you were fantastic. My name's Patrick." He extended his hand.

Irish Spring looked at it as if it were an alien. In a brisk Irish brogue, she said, "Ya should be knowin', Patrick, that there's no touchin' of the girls on or off stage. I'm not a hooker. When I leave that stage, I'm merely a student at Tulane. I dance to earn a livin'. That's the end of it."

"I'm sorry," he apologized, pulling his hand back. "I didn't think you were a hooker. I'm a student at Tulane too. I'm studying structural engineering. How about you?"

The girl looked at this tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed man. He was audacious, yet non-threatening. "Photography," she replied.

The bouncer from the club exited the rear for a smoke. He saw Patrick talking to the dancer and asked, "Jenna, is this prick bothering you?"

"No, Falon. He's 'armless. Just a fan."

Patrick said, "You can't work every night. I'd like to call you—take you to dinner. What d'ya say?"

The bus pulled up. The girl said from the steps of the bus, "Patrick is a strong, fine, Irish name. I'm in the student directory if ya can find me." And she was gone.

Back in his dorm room, Patrick searched every name in the student directory, finally finding a Jenna Thornton. Thornton is an Irish surname; not as overtly Irish as O'Something, but Irish, he thought. She was a freshman, too, but she lived off campus. Uncommon. Maybe because she's foreign?

The next morning, Patrick dialed the number listed for Jenna Thornton. Sleepily, an Irish brogue answered, "'Ello?"

"Hello, Jenna," he said. "This is Patrick Gautier from last night. How about lunch instead of dinner?"

Jenna sat up. The man had actually looked for her and found her. She said a bit anxiously, "Patrick from the bus stop?"

"Yes."

"How did ya find me? I didna even tell ya me name."

"Falon called you 'Jenna.' I looked for every Jenna in the student directory. Thornton is an Irish surname."

"I dona believe it."

"Honest to God."

"Aire ya stalkin' me, Patrick?"

"Should I? Would that get your attention?"

"No!"

"Then, how about lunch—with all your clothes on?"

Jenna was too stunned to say "no." She stammered, "All roight. I'll meet ya."

At one on the dot, Patrick pulled into the cheap apartment complex in the metallic blue Porsche Boxster convertible he had received for graduation. Jenna waited on the balcony of her second-floor apartment. Patrick grabbed an umbrella and ran up the stairs to fetch her.

In the warm, dry car, Jenna said, "Patrick is a fine Irish name, but Gautier is French."

"I'm American," Patrick replied with an impish grin.

"An audacious American. Me grandmother warned me aboot yer sort."

"What sort is that—handsome, charming, and polite?"

"And rich," Jenna added, rubbing the luxurious leather as she settled into the car.

With a grin, he said, "That's my father, but he's handsome, charming, and polite too."

"When can I see you again?"

"Sunday is me only night off."

"You work six nights a week?"

"Six nights, four hours, eight dances, two an hour. I make good money. A lot of students dance."

"I'm sure you make excellent money. You're beautiful, and your routine was hypnotic."

"Ya only saw one. I do eight different dances each night."

"Maybe you could give me a private show sometime." He wiggled eyebrows in mischief.

"Private dances aire five hundred extra, and there's still no touchin'."

"I could afford it."

"With yer da's money?" She grinned at the bold American.

"Touché."

Jenna laughed. Patrick escorted her to her door where he asked, "Is there any chance of touching the Tulane co-ed?"

Jenna smirked playfully. "Ya mighta earned a wee peck."

The next Sunday, Patrick and Jenna went ice skating. When Patrick took Jenna home, she invited him to stay for "a spot of supper."

Patrick laughed out loud as Jenna made chili cheese dogs for them to eat. She laughed, "This is an American dish I love."

Dessert had been tastier than a chili dog, and a lot more than a single kiss. Patrick left knowing he was completely in love with this Celtic enchantress.

Patrick went home for Thanksgiving. He saw how much his father still mourned his mother's death. He watched his younger sister who had seen her mother die. "Bratikin," he said draping his arm around her shoulder as she stood and talked to Townes Johnson. "How ya doin'?"

Trista gave a scornful look. "You're too damned happy, Patch. She held up her hand in a tight clench. "June." One finger popped up followed by another with each word. "July, August, September, October, November. Five months. I'm not ready to laugh." She took Townes's hand and led him away.

Patrick let out a long puff of air. "Need a friend?" Parker Reynolds asked at his shoulder while pointing at Trista and Townes. "Uncle Raif already had me sit between those two. I'm a little worried their hormones are on full throttle."

"Mine too."

The holiday continued with Larkin's annual tree-trimming party. Patrick found he was able to laugh though he worried about his sister whose face remained in a perpetual frown. As he went to talk to her, his phone rang.

Stepping away from the crowd, he answered, "Jenna, what's wrong?"

Her voice shrill and frantic, Jenna wailed, "Patrick! I canna do it anymore. I was assaulted at work."

"I'm on my way."

Patrick made an excuse about a school project falling apart and raced back to New Orleans.

"Jenna, what happened? What's wrong?" he demanded.

She sobbed, "I canna work there any more, Patrick. I'm not a whore, and I will not be sold and treated like one."

"What happened?"

"Some skin-headed man asked for a private dance. 'Is idea of dancin' and mine aire not the same."

"Did he hurt you?"

Jenna slipped off the cardigan sweater she wore to reveal obvious finger imprints on both her arms.

"Is there anything else?" asked Patrick, eyes and nostrils flaring.

"No. Falon threw him out and brought me home. But I'm so scared, Patrick."

Patrick started back to his car.

"Where are ya goin'?" she yelled.

"To kill the bastard."

"No! He won't be back in the club."

Patrick returned to Jenna.

He pulled her close as she wept. "Don't cry. Quit if you want to. I'll take care of you," he soothed.

"How?"

"We can make it work, Jenna. I love you. Marry me."

"Married, Patrick?" She pushed up from his embrace.

"Do you love me, Jenna?"

"Yes, but marriage?"

"I know a place where we can get married tonight. We can drive there and be back for classes on Monday.

"Patrick! Tonight?"

"This afternoon actually. Yes. Say, 'Yes.' You won't have to quit your job if you don't want to, but I'll be there every night to protect you. I love you, Jenna. Say, 'Yes!' We can make it work."

Jenna caught Patrick's enthusiasm and answered, "Yes. Yes, Patrick."

Christopher and Kimberly:

 One cute blonde slipped her arm around Christopher's waist. "Christopher Reynolds, do you recognize me?"

Christopher stared at the girl for a minute. "Kimberly LaFontaine?"

"You got it!"

"Wow!" His eyes roved over her body. "You've changed. You look a lot different from the Christmas cards."

"You too."

"Are you gonna be at the party tonight?"

"You bet. Try and find me."

As Kimberly drifted away, Christopher called, "Hey! Wait! Can I call you?"

"Sure." Kimberly wrote her phone number on his palm with a Sharpie she pulled from the small shoulder bag she had.

When Christopher returned to the family Larkin asked, "Who was the girl that was all over you?"

"Kimberly LaFontaine."

"Really?" She looked back toward where the teenage girl that was almost the same age as Courtney walked toward a modern Volkswagen Beetle. Looks a lot different from the one I had when I met Ray.  "We haven't seen the twins at all in three years. Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell came for Aunt Chris's funeral, and Uncle Raif has seen Saul Blackwell since he's the firm's attorney."

"Yeah. I got her number." He waved his palm in triumph.

Christopher spotted Kimberly near the bonfire and made his way to her. "Hey!" she said when she saw him. "You made it."

"Yeah. I wanted to hang out with you."

"Really? Just me? There were a lot of girls around you today."

"I didn't get anybody else's phone number, did I?

"Did you?"

"No."

Kim slipped her hand into Christopher's. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "We have hotdogs."

"No, I had dinner already. My grandmother makes the best fettuccini Alfredo."

"Yum. That's better than hotdogs."

"Yeah."

"Do you want a beer or a Coke?"

"What are you having?"

"Coke. I don't like beer."

"Then, I'll have Coke."

Kim got Christopher a Coke. "Do you want to take a walk?" she asked innocently.

"Yeah. It's hard to talk over all the noise." Christopher took Kim's hand, and they walked down the beach.

 Kim looked up at Christopher. She had her father's soft blue eyes and curly blonde hair. Christopher leaned in to kiss her, and she responded.

Christopher Reynolds was exceedingly happy to get home and finish his senior year with the rest of his classmates. However, Saturday trips to Baton Rouge became habit since he enjoyed spending time with Kimberly LaFontaine.

Christopher graduated with honors, and, as had become a family tradition, he celebrated at Mama Rosa's Italian Eatery. Deanna Blackwell's family joined the celebration. Deanna whispered to Larkin as they watched their children dance, "It's obvious Christopher has a serious case of like, if not downright love, on Kimberly."

Larkin nodded and pointed the couple out to Parker.

Parker cornered his younger brother when the dance was over. "Congratulations! I just want to ask you something. Did Daddy give you anything from his toolbox?"

Christopher laughed. "He did that to you, too, huh?"

"Yep. I never used mine. I waited for Sheena."

"I hear you, Parker."

"Do you?"

"Yes. I haven't done anything inappropriate with Kim. She's the same age as Courtney."

"And?"

"It's just too soon. Parker, I can't promise to wait like you did. I'm not you, but I'm not stupid."

Kimberly and Christopher also exchanged special gifts. Since Christopher had been a child, he had been obsessed with tigers, so, perhaps, it was a good thing that he attended LSU as the mascot was a tiger. One whole wall of Christopher's room was devoted to his tiger collection. He personally donated funds to the tiger exhibit at the Audubon Zoo each year from the time he was twelve. Because of his love for the creature, Kim chose a topaz and onyx tiger sculpture. Christopher caressed it as if it were alive.

Then, Christopher gave Kim a cubic box. It contained a small diamond, only about an eighth of a carat, in a tiffany setting in fourteen karat yellow gold. Christopher slipped the ring on Kim's finger in the presence of two sets of stunned parents. As he did so he said, "It's a promise ring, Kim. I promise when we're both finished with college, the diamond will be a lot bigger." Kimberly and Christopher did not even pretend to need mistletoe as he kissed her soundly for everyone to see.

Courtney and Kyle:

At the reception, Courtney caught the bouquet. Ray whispered in her ear, "A long time."

She nodded. "As you say, Daddy, 'You know it.'" She laughed. "I'm only fifteen."

"What aren't you saying, Kyle?"

"What if I'm like him, Neely? I'd rather die."

"You're not. I can tell because you're worried about it, not that you should worry."

Neely watched as Kyle chewed the inside of his mouth. She sensed there was something much deeper that he needed to talk about. Then she remembered his reaction when she mentioned what would happen to him if he went to prison.

"Kyle," she said barely above a whisper, "is that why you were so afraid of going to jail? Were you scared of being raped yourself? Sweetheart, are you gay?"

Without responding, he walked to a locked cabinet and jerked on the handle. "Saul keeps his liquor locked in here. I sure could use a drink."

"Booze won't help. Answer my questions. Are you talking to your counselor?"

With a deep sigh he said, "Yes, no, yes."

Neely tapped an impatient foot.

"Yes, I was scared of being someone's bitch. No, I'm not gay, but I can't imagine any girl wanting me. Yes, I've talked to the quack I'm seeing."

"You need to start dating, build your confidence."

"There's only one woman that I think is the most beautiful creature alive."

"Who's that?"

"You."

She shook her head and set her mouth in a firm line. "Kyle, honey, you know that isn't a possibility. First, I'm too old for you. Second, you know I love Raif with all my heart. Last, considering our past, even if all the other weren't true, do you really think it would work?"

"No." The boy averted his eyes.

"You're right. No."

"But who would want to go out with me if she knew about me? Thankfully, I cut that deal with the prosecution, or I would be a registered sex offender. I could never keep my past a secret. But what woman in her right mind would want to go out with me if she knew what I've done?" He walked back to the chair where his shirt lay, picked it up, and pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Well, I know one girl who thinks you're really cute."

"Who?"

"Courtney."

Kyle sat at a table with Courtney Reynolds. Courtney, the constant chatterbox, hated mono-syllabic conversations. She finally asked crossly, "Kyle, are you gonna talk to me or just grunt all night?"

"Sorry. I don't talk a lot. I've found that it often shows a fine command of language to say nothing."

"Now that's profound, but I guess you're not planning a career in politics."

"No. I think maybe medical school."

"That would be good, but you'll have to talk to your patients. Any particular branch?"

"Psychiatry. I won't have to talk, just listen and repeat what my patients say."

The girl sipped her Coke and stirred ice cubes around before she said, "You don't like your counselor."

"How can you tell?"

"Your tone of voice. You don't think he's helping."

"Nope. For what he charges, I would expect a little more guidance."

"He must take the non-directive approach."

Kyle shrugged. "I guess. It sounds like I'm talking to a mynah bird. He just repeats what I say." He drained his glass of root beer.

"I think I'll be a teacher like my mom."

"She's also a writer."

"Yeah, but I like to talk too much to be a writer."

"You could narrate your books on discs for the blind." Kyle laughed. "I listen well. Maybe Neely was right. Maybe we are complementary."

"What did Neely say?"

"That you think I'm cute." He chewed on his straw for moment. "Do you?"

"Yeah. You're very nice-looking."

"Do you think I'm a nice person inside?"

"Kyle, I think you've been hurt deeply, and you're afraid to show the real person you are."

He dipped one eye lid. "You sure you wouldn't like to be a psychiatrist, too?"

"Are you suggesting a partnership?"

"Courtney, would you actually consider going on a date with me knowing what I did and all?"

"Are you asking me out?"

"I don't know." The boy began to tie the straw into knots. "I'm scared to ask any girl out because I don't wanna have to tell anybody about what I did. You already know. You know all about me and my dad. I wouldn't have to lie to you. I could be myself, but I'm not sure your dad would like it. He might think you wouldn't be safe with me."

 "Kyle, I'll tell you a little info." The girl bragged, "I would kick your ass and leave you in a heap if you tried anything I didn't want. I'm not afraid of you. You aren't a bad person, Kyle."

"You're not disgusted by what I did?"

"Yes." She gave a quick nod. "It was a repulsive action. But it's the action that's revolting, not you. Kyle, do you wanna go out with me, Courtney Reynolds, not just any girl?"

"Yes, if your dad okays it."

"Then, go ask him. Do it now before you chicken out."

"I feel like I'm gonna vomit."

"If you vomit, you won't get a kiss." Courtney's wink brought a smile to the boy's face.

Amidst the hoopla, Neely slipped into the entry hall where everything went black. Having seen her leave, Kyle poked Courtney. "I don't think we've actually wished Neely a Merry Christmas."

"Okay," agreed Courtney, tired of the carols.

They found Neely lying in the entry. "Get Raif!" commanded Kyle.

Courtney dragged her uncle from his yearly rendition of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" while Ray donned a Grinch mask and pretended to steal the children's gifts. Raif carried Neely to their room where she began to come around. He was followed closely by Trista, Larkin, Audrey, Courtney and Kyle. Kyle hung just outside the door feeling a little awkward.

With all the people around her, Neely protested, "I'm fine. I just got dizzy."

"Again?" asked Audrey. "How often has this happened, Neely?"

"A few times, but I'm fine. I've just been tired."

The older woman puckered her lips. "Are your breasts tender? Do you need to urinate a lot lately?"

"Yeah. So?" Neely responded with her brow furrowed.

"Neely, honey," Audrey continued, "I think you're pregnant."

"You know that's not possible, Audrey, not with the damage from what happened to me. I can't have children. You know that."

Kyle stepped into the doorway. "You…you can't…can't because of me. Oh, my God!" Kyle took off like a fox with its tail on fire.

"Kyle, come back!" Neely called, trying to get up.

"Lie down," commanded Raif.

"Go get him, Courtney," begged Neely. "Please. He'll do something stupid. He can't handle the guilt. I never wanted him to know."

Courtney followed Kyle in hot pursuit. Kyle had exited through the front door and left it wide open. Courtney flew out the entrance.

Courtney stayed her course. She was terrified as she followed her instincts. "Kyle!" she screamed as she hit the relative clearance at the end of an overgrown path where the bodies of Robert (Row-Bear) LaFontaine and his clerk, Dinah Horn, had been found beside the old rickety trestle. She hurdled the fence that separated Raif's property from the old train track. She fell flat as her foot caught a spike on the fence but jumped up quickly.

"Go away, Courtney!" Kyle yelled back with one foot on the rail.

"Kyle, don't be stupid!"

"It's too late for that! I've already been stupid!" He shook long curly blond locks. "Look what I did to Neely! I'm more despicable than my father! I don't deserve to live! It's only fitting I should die in the same place he did."

"Kyle, none of that matters! It's over! It's past!"

"Neely can't have kids because of me!" He glanced over his shoulder. "That's now! That's forever!"

"No, Kyle! I'm now!" Courtney was very close to Kyle. She spoke softly. "Kyle, look at me."

Blue eyes brimming with tears, he turned slightly, but left his foot on the rail.

"Kyle, we're now. We can be forever."

"Why would you want to be with me? Pity? You have no idea how disgusting I really am."

"You're not disgusting. You're wonderful."

"Oh, Courtney, you don't know. Nobody knows."

"Kyle, this is more than Neely. Tell me."

"You'll leave me. Then, I might as well be dead." He inched his body higher onto the railing.

"I won't leave you, Kyle. I love you."

"You won't when you know."

"Yes, I will."

"I never told anybody what really happened the day I caught my dad with Lloyd." The lakes of tears cascaded down the boy's cheeks. "I couldn't tell my mom. It would've killed her."

"Kyle, did they molest you?"

"Not my dad, but he watched. He let it happen. It hurt so much, Courtney. Then, when I hurt Neely, it felt good to hurt somebody else, but only for a brief moment. Afterward, I felt so dirty, so nasty and repulsive. I never wanna hurt you, Courtney. I love you. You know everything about me."

"And I still love you. If you don't wanna hurt me, come away from there. Please?" Courtney begged in tears.

As Kyle leaned further to peer at the swamp, the old wooden rail cracked, and he toppled over.

"Kyle!" Courtney screamed and dashed forward. She fell on her stomach and looked over the trestle. Kyle clung to the broken wood and hung precariously fifty feet above the swamp.

"Courtney, get back!" Kyle yelled.

The stubborn girl twisted one ankle in the old rope supports and locked her ankles around another piece of the railing. "Give me your hand," she commanded.

Kyle grasped Courtney's wrist, and she held on with both hands, putting her shoulder into another piece of wood.

"Don't let go," whispered Kyle.

"Never."

"You're right, Courtney. I realized that after watching your dad. Kyle, do you love Raiford Reynolds?"

"Not like my dad did."

"I know that. How about as a surrogate father?"

"Yeah, I do. He's Courtney's dad and my godfather. One day he'll be my father-in-law."

"You two are that serious, huh?"

"We're okay," said Kyle. "But there's something I'd like to ask you."

"What, Kyle?" Ray said.

"I really need to get away from here for a while." He took Courtney's hand. "Do you think it would be possible for Courtney and me to take a year off between high school and college and spend the year in Europe with y'all?"

"Hmm. What does your mom think?"

"I haven't asked yet. I wanted to clear it with you."

"Courtney, what do you think?"

"I'll be fine, Daddy, but Kyle needs this. I'm not a child anymore. This is the man I love." She looked her boyfriend in the eye. "I'll do whatever I need to do for him."

Raif covered his mouth to keep from laughing at his brother.

A final excerpt

:He sat on the bench in front of the door. "Let's see. First, I'm having another baby tomorrow. I always wanted more with you, but you were set on the three you had. That's okay. Neely and I have the girls. They're delightful. How did you know there were three little girls who needed a home? You told me three awaited a miracle. Now, miraculously, we're having a boy, and so far Neely is okay. She's been on bed rest for a month, but the cerclage is holding. Second, I wish you could meet Jenna, but I think you know. Patrick confessed that he's heard your voice." He breathed deeply as the gardenia wafted on the air. "She will definitely keep Patrick on his toes for a lifetime. They haven't made me a grandfather again, but I feel it coming really soon. Having Gram Thornton and Colleen living in the guesthouse is a blast. We just got Gran's paperwork for her immigration. You would laugh so much around those two characters." He laughed out loud thinking about the two women.

"Are you ready for this next tidbit? I hope you're sitting, even in Heaven." He paused as if to give Chris time to sit. "Ray has retired." He waited a long moment after the declaration. "I can hear you laughing. I don't see it lasting either, but he's taking off to Europe for half a year. He's running out on our family holiday scene this year! He'll be home the third week after the New Year. Christmas in Paris! Missing our birthday! The scoundrel! Audrey and Walter will be hosting. Of course, Larkin and Cherie are going with him. So are Courtney and Kyle. Robert will finally be a part of the family through his kids—both of them. Christopher already proposed to Kim, but they're planning to finish college before they get married. I will put money on Courtney and Kyle coming back hitched. Kyle has endured more than I could imagine. He's one tough kid. His PO has approved him to travel. I still find it hard to believe he was the one who brutalized Neely. He's really a good kid who finally feels loved.

"Trista and Townes are great! She's really grown up, and she's you made over. She's studying accounting and plans to manage my financial affairs at Gautier and Associates when they move back here. I bet no one will embezzle with her in charge."

He sat quietly for few minutes. "Last, Palermo exacted his own justice. He confessed via letters and a recording, but face-to-face with Kyle. Then, he killed himself. My feelings have been ambivalent about that. I wanted justice, but, Chris, if he was truly penitent, I hope he received a pardon. Nonetheless, it's over." He released a long sigh.

"I'm not crying today, baby. Things are good, really good, again."

Once more, Chris's voice came to him. "You need to go home. I'll always be right here in your heart, but right now, you need to go home. Next year, bring me a rose bush for the other side of the door. Now, go."

Raif's phone rang.

Cover by Christopher Chambers.

The lovebirds as I see them: Trista & Townes, Patrick & Jenna, Christopher & Kimberly, Courtney & Kyle