The Bridge

Bridge in moonlightI rubbed the scratchy stubble on my chin as I leaned my elbows on the wooden railing of the old bridge. I couldn’t remember what prompted me to stop here. I vaguely remembered playing in these woods as a child but that felt like a lifetime ago. Below me the expanse of river reflected the engorged moon as the water moved almost soundlessly over the rocks. It wasn’t the first time I contemplated jumping.

Exhausted, I bent my head and massaged my aching temple. I tried to think about all the clues that might have added up to this night, all the ways I’d gone wrong that had led to my broken heart. In my pocket still rested the ring box. I’d been planning to propose to Amber but I didn’t get up the nerve and then before I had the chance, it was all over.

On the soft breeze, I heard a whisper that sounded like my name. I looked up but of course, I was alone. After two in the morning in a rural town like mine, I’d be lucky to see a car pass even if I spent the next several hours standing on the bridge.

Maybe it was the fact that she’d never liked my job. I wasn’t ambitious enough, she’d told me once. I liked my job though. It didn’t make me rich. What I could afford was humble in contrast to what she was accustomed to receiving but I thought we could find a way to make it work. I thought she loved me for the person I was on the inside. Isn’t that the way that love is supposed to work?

Amber had accused me of messing around with some girl I didn’t even know. She told me she had proof of it, that others had admitted to seeing us together but I shook my head sadly to the night, acknowledging the conspiracy that had been set up against me. None of her friends had ever liked me. Was I destined to be alone forever, I wondered?

The breeze wrapped around me and I shivered. The seasons were changing so quickly now. At this rate, winter would settle over us before we knew it. I pulled my leather jacket tighter around me to try to keep the chill from settling into my bones but it was no use.

A scratching sound distracted my ruminations and I quickly looked behind me, not sure what I was expecting to find, but the bridge was still void of any sign of life, except for my own. My heart sank and I looked down at my cell phone at the last text message I’d received from Amber asking me to never contact her again. I contemplated responding, asking her what happened, asking for some sense of closure. She owed me that much at least, didn’t she? It wasn’t fair to leave me like this. No matter how many times I went over the past six months in my memory, I couldn’t put the pieces together to come to a conclusion for why she might have turned so cold. I deserved to know the truth.

My fingers hesitated over the keys as I remembered the look in her eyes. Ordinarily her eyes were a bright blue but the sadness had dimmed them to a murky gray as the tears threatened to spill. She hadn’t wanted to say goodbye. I was convinced of it, but yet she had insisted, and after all the arguments, there was nothing left to say to try to change her mind.

For better or for worse, my relationship with Amber was over.

I reached into my pocket and fished out the ring. It wasn’t anything special but it had taken me several paychecks to finally be able to afford it. I’d picked the beautiful blue Sapphire to match her eyes. I couldn’t imagine anyone else wearing the ring other than Amber so although it may have seemed crazy, I pulled back my arm and pitched the ring as far down the river as I could manage. It fell with a plop that almost seemed to echo through the quiet night.

I dug my hands into my pockets and stepped back from the edge, giving one last look over the river before turning my back and moving toward my beat up old car waiting for me at the side of the road. As I shuffled along, I could have sworn I heard the sound of a woman crying in the distance. I stopped and double backed, listening intently for the sound again. At first it didn’t come. Even the lonely crickets had given up and returned to wherever it is that crickets go when summer has ended and fall begins. Around me was only silence.

That’s it, I told myself, turning back toward the car. But something didn’t want to let me go, some strange nagging tugged at me, urging me to look closer.

Under the bridge, the wind whispered in my ear. I shuddered involuntarily. It would be a dangerous climb down the steep hillside in thick underbrush to reach the overgrown woods under the bridge. It was unlikely I would find anyone there. But then I heard it again, this time more distinct and without reservation I knew, it was the sound of a woman crying.

…. to be continued

Happy October from the Mom of a Kid Who Hates Pants

autumn colorful leaves backgroundThe sun sets earlier now, the days are slowly cooling down. All around us the trees gradually change from green to varying shades of reds, oranges and yellows.

I love this time of year for so many reasons. I embrace the cooler temps and the cozy sweaters. I happily trade in my flip flops for a pair of cute boots. I look forward to making a cup of hot tea before I sit down at the desk in the morning to write and actually drinking it without breaking into a sweat.

I love everything about fall.

Or at least I did until I had kids.

Spring and Fall are seasons of transition, at least in this part of the globe. While I may be thrilled to change over my entire wardrobe, there are others in my home who are considerably less enthusiastic about changing theirs.

As a mom to a kid with autism, even high functioning, I anticipate some of the challenges I will face from day-to-day while other challenges still seem to hit me completely off guard even when I know they are coming.

Even when I start giving warnings in mid- September with concrete boundaries. As in, “On October 1st, I am putting away the shorts and we will have to wear long pants.”

Period. The end.

It’s still a struggle. Who knew that long pants could cause so much revolt and strife? To me, they are simply shorts, only longer. Yeah, okay, it feels a little weird on my legs after so many months of being bare, but I adapt to the funny feeling quickly enough. To me, it’s more important not to freeze.

But maybe I’m just an odd ball?

For my son, who doesn’t adapt quite so easily to different sensory inputs, the day I declared it “no more shorts day” I might as well have been heralding the apocalypse. The world will never be the same. How will we go on?

Yes, even with the warnings that this day would come, my morning was met with screams and resistance.

Why do I love this time of year so much?

When my brisk walks through the park kicking dry leaves under my feet are overshadowed by the constant fight to get dressed in the morning?

Because you know, long pants are only the beginning.

There will be coats. (shudder)

Sigh. No matter what, being a mom is never easy and there are always going to be battles whether they are battles of will or battles of routine and sensory perceptions.

Put on the pants and maybe, just maybe, I’ll treat you to a cup of hot chocolate to make up for it? 😉

Just breathe… And let there be pumpkins and Halloween decorations! It’s October!

 

#ScintillatingSunday Hopeless Peril, The Kiss

scintillating sundayGreetings! Well, what do you know… I have finally resolved the wordpress issues that have kept me away since mid-April. Okay, so they kind of resolved themselves once I finally updated my browser, but I’m ecstatic to finally be able to access and post on my blog again. (It’s the little things.)

What better way to dive back into my blog, than to do it with a big splash. It’s summer, after all, and summer is hot. While my main writing focus is paranormal,  romance often sneaks its way into my stories so I’ve decided to give the Scintillating Sunday blog hop a try and share some spicy stuff.

Tthe rules are simple. Eight words, eight sentences, or eight paragraphs of our choosing, so long as they are “scintillating”. I hope I can live up to that. Want to join in the fun? You can find the rules and the sign up for next week on the main blog page HERE

.Enjoy my snippet and be sure to sample the other participants as well. No doubt, you will not be disappointed.

My snippet comes from my current work-in-progress, Commitment.. Whether or not this snippet survives the edits is yet to be determined. 😉

**

          What difference would one kiss make? Her lips could sweep over his and then he would disappear just as he’d done before and nothing in her life would change. She would still be in the same hopeless peril with the same lonely future staring back at her. She didn’t need Kent in her life. She didn’t need any man but for some reason, she wanted him.

Olivia closed her eyes and lifted her lips to his, a surprisingly easy distance to close since he’d lowered his face in anticipation of this moment. His arms pulled her in and the passion flared. Lips parted, he invited her to taste him and she did so, gratefully. She sank into his arms and crushed her chest against his, feeling the heat and the strength envelope her. Time stood still while they tempted each other with their lips and tongues and then just as abruptly, he let her go.

“What are you doing?” he whispered breathless, the desire evident on his face as he searched her eyes for some meaning or motivation behind what had just happened.

“I don’t know.”

He sighed and glanced at the clock before slowly stroking the top of her arm. She had so many thoughts in her head but she couldn’t seem to put any of them in logical or coherent order so she simply stood there waiting for him to say or do something, to make the next move.

“Is this your way of getting back at Haley?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re mad at her for sleeping with Ryan so now you’ll try to sleep with her brother.”

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#AtoZChallenge Who Are the Ghosts in My Attic? Isabella

Businessman hand holding a Crystal BallLet’s be clear about one thing. Isabella is not a ghost. Well, at least not yet. As far as I know, she just likes to pretend she is. I’m not going to say she is crazy either, but maybe she is just a little bit.

I followed her from one room to the next beginning on the main level of the house and then eventually working our way up the staircase to the bedrooms. She made a lot of sounds as we moved and sometimes she hummed or chanted softly, but none of that really made sense to me.

Finally, we stopped at the foot of the attic steps. She turned and looked at me. Was I supposed to lead?

“That is where they stay,” I said indicating the door, although being a highly recommended psychic, I had sort of expected her to know that already.

“I want to go up and take a look around,” she announced after an awkward silence. I ignored the warnings in my head screaming this was a bad idea and nodded. Slowly she ascended, one step at a time.

I probably should have followed but I couldn’t. My feet kept me firmly rooted where I stood as a wave of nausea struck me fiercely. Isabella opened the door and disappeared into their domain. Too dizzy to stand, I collapsed onto the bottom step to rest my head in my hands. I counted, forcing myself to breath. Inhale. Exhale.

Time barely passed, or at least it felt that way, before I noticed her standing at the bottom of the steps looking down at me. On shaky legs I attempted to stand.

“Well, what happened? What did you sense? What can I do?” I whispered because I was too afraid that they might hear me. I glanced up and felt relief as I realized that Isabella had at least closed the attic door behind her.

“There is definitely an energy here,” she said making no attempts to lower her own raspy voice. I cringed.

“Yes, but what do you think?” I wasn’t paying a psychic to tell me I had ghosts. I knew that much already.  “How do I get rid of them?”

“Not them. I only sense one entity in this house and I really don’t get the feeling you need to fear. It isn’t malevolent.”

“One? That can’t be right. I’ve spoken to at least eight of them already.”

She raised one eyebrow as if she couldn’t believe me or that I dared to question her professional assessment.

“A spirit can make you believe many things but I assure you, there is only one.”

I sighed heavily. Isabella obviously wouldn’t be of any help to me and I’d just spent one hundred dollars to do nothing but potentially anger the ones that didn’t want me to go poking where I didn’t belong.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I will perform a simple cleansing ritual and burn sage in all the rooms, especially the attic. This will send the energy back where it belongs and you will be free to enjoy your home.”

“Does that cost extra?”

Raised eyebrows again. “Ms. Ingram, do you want me to fix this problem or not?”

“Of course. It’s just that –”

That I think she’s clueless. Likely.

“– that I’m a little short on money at the moment.”

“No worries. I’ll give you a special discount. You are a friend of Sylvia’s, after all.”

“Thanks,” I muttered as I followed her back down the staircase and into the living room. She went to her large bag and started rummaging for things. At least she came prepared, I thought.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” I asked.

“That would be nice, thank you.”

She’d pulled out bundles of what I could only assume must be sage as I went to the kitchen, grateful to get away from her and the heavy perfume she wore. Strong scents gave me a headache and this lady was sending me straight to migraine territory. Then again, maybe it had more to do with the fact that I was no better off then where I’d started with the ghosts.

I leaned against the counter waiting for the kettle to boil. Perhaps I was being too hard on her? For all I knew, whether there was one ghost or twenty in my house, this sage thing just might do the trick and I could avoid putting the house up for sale. Being the only one remaining in my family, I had been feeling kind of guilty ever since making that decision. The house belonged to me.

I belonged to the house.

I shivered for no apparent reason at all.

I could hear Isabella humming as she moved through the house doing her work and another strong scent hit my nose, what I could only assume must be the burning sage.

“Geez, watch the crazy lady burn down the house and my luck, I still won’t be rid of the ghosts,” I muttered under my breath as I poured the boiled water over the tea bags.

I thought of Benjamin and my heart ached. This had to be the right decision.

When I returned to the living room, Isabella was humming her way up the main staircase.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she called back to me.

Just as well I had nothing better to do. I set the two mugs of tea on the end table and made myself comfortable on the couch while I waited. Outside the blue sky promised a lovely day and I decided I should get out and take a walk. The fresh air would do me some good. I smiled watching the birds, hopeful. The sage had to work.

Isabella screamed.

The sound of it sent shivers through me and without a second thought, I raced up the steps to find her wide eyed and pale in the middle of the hallway trembling … like she’d just seen a ghost?

This should be familiar territory for a highly recommended psychic, surely.

A faint smell of burning filled my nose. This time it didn’t have the pleasant aroma of sage.

“What happened?”

“Your house — the g- g- ghost — I can’t —”

“What happened?” I repeated, annoyed that she couldn’t seem to communicate with me but before I could hear her response, I was distracted by a waft of smoke coming down from the attic. The door was wide open and I could see the flames begin to lick around its edges.

“Oh god,” I moaned.

Luckily, I’d kept a fire extinguisher on each floor just as a general safety precaution. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever figure I’d need it for a situation like this. I grabbed the nearest one and ran up the steps. Thankfully, the fire hadn’t spread far and I was able to put it out. I stood for a moment as I tried to catch my breath and assess the damage.

“I take it you didn’t like our new friend, Isabella,” I said to my ghosts. I couldn’t see them but I knew they were listening.

By the time I was sure the fire was out and I went back downstairs, Isabella was gone. She’d taken her bag, her bundles of sage, and disappeared.

I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be hearing from her again.

**

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