Healing

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Healing Page 3

by Kennington, Belinda

A muffled sob called his attention and he looked in the direction of the sound. Allison was crumpled on the floor. How? Trent resisted the urge to go to her and scoop her into his arms. They were friends but from a distance. What would he be able to do to stop her pain, or would she let him.

  Face in her hands, she cried. A soft glow surrounded her. In her nightgown, she shone with the moon.

  He lowered his arm and leaned the piece of wood against the wall. Ah…Dreaming. He’d see where it went. “Allison?”

  She lowered her hands and looked at him. Tears rolled down her face.

  He couldn’t count how many times he had dreamt of Allison in his home, but that wasn’t right. “How did you get here?” He knelt in front of her.

  “He left me again.” She sobbed.

  He, who? Trent looked around the room again. “Are you ok?”

  She looked at him. The pain in her eyes, cut through him. Would that image ever disappear? What’s going on? He raised his hand wanting to comfort her. But as he did, she disappeared. He received only empty space. He stood and looked frantically around the room. He went through each room, one by one, not finding a trace of anyone.

  ***

  Rays of sun light shone through the window. Allison opened her eyes and stared at the clock. She had awoken before the alarm sounded. Memories of her vivid dream swirled in her mind. The scent of the beautiful flowers still hung in her memory. She touched her cheek where Rick had wiped away her tears. Rick wanting her to move on, even in a dream, confused her. She missed him and hated the idea of finding someone to replace him.

  Allison’s attention was drawn to the blue birds outside her bedroom window, collecting sticks in the warm April sun. It was a beautiful day, but a storm brewed inside. It was the anniversary of her husband’s death. Two years to the day, her Rick was suddenly taken from her. Rick was her one true love. She’d never find another like him. She didn’t want to try. They found each other when she was only eighteen and he was nineteen, but they knew immediately they were meant to be and married a year later.

  Her eyes watered and she put her hands on her chest. If she could hold tight enough maybe her heart wouldn’t shatter completely.

  A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. She quickly wiped under her eyes and sat up. “Yes?”

  “Mom?” Her door opened slowly. Bright hazel eyes peeked in. Allison looked at the door Liz held onto. “We’re heading to school. See you later.”

  “Have a good day. Love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  She sighed, flung the blankets off and forced herself out of bed. She had a job to go to. Curling into a ball and lying there forever sounded better today. Most days she was able to force the pain into hiding. Pretend everything was fine, but that day the pain didn’t want to be ignored. She made her way over to her bedroom window that looked out onto the front lawn. She watched Liz and Stephen climb into Liz’s car. Three years and her nest would be empty.

  Stephen, her youngest, turned fifteen last month. He’d be a sophomore next year. He had been the most difficult. Always sulking and snapping at everyone. Doors slamming had become a regular sound in the Behr house. Every day she wished Rick had been there to help Stephen through his adolescence.

  When the back of her daughter’s car disappeared down the road, she headed for her bathroom to get ready for the day.

  Half an hour later, Allison smoothed down her blouse then glanced in the mirror again to make sure her thick waves were still under control. Slipping on her ring she then put her necklace around her neck as she left her room. In the entry way she snatched her purse and keys off the stand. She paused staring at the beautiful piece of woodwork. Her tenth anniversary present. Pieces of raw wood Rick had cut, put together and stained. He had been so talented.

  She laid her things back down and slowly made her way into the living room. She looked around her home, seeing all the things Rick had given or made her throughout the eighteen years they were married.

  The floor lamp sitting in the corner behind her chair he’d gotten for her birthday because she loved to read. The floor to ceiling bookshelves he built into the wall. Books of all kinds, fiction and non-fiction, filled the wall. She smiled, thinking of the sleepy weekends they went to garage sales and second-hand shops. It was their favorite past time, walking around hand in hand. She hadn’t been to either since Rick had been gone. The opposite side of the room, framed pictures of the family showed the kids as they grew.

  He’d never left her wanting… ‘Til the day he died.

  She touched the necklace around her neck. It was her fifteenth year anniversary gift, a gold pendent Rick had put Allison’s and his own birthstones at the top and two at the bottom for their kids. She wore it every day.

  She stormed out of the living room. “How could you leave me?” She grabbed the necklace roughly and screamed at the ceiling. “I needed you and you went away.”

  Yanking the necklace over her head, Allison threw it onto the stand and stomped out the door. We were to grow old together.

  ***

  Allison sat in the parking lot at work in the still running car. She leaned on the steering wheel and bumped her forehead on it as guilt washed over her. How could she be mad at Rick? He didn’t leave because he wanted too. “Oh.” She sat up straight, rubbing her forehead where she’d hit it a little too hard.

  Pulling down the visor she checked her makeup. Mascara ran under her eyes. I should have taken the day off. She had always kept up a brave face, only letting herself feel even a little of the pain when she was alone. What else could she do? She had kids to take care of. She couldn’t let them see her fall apart.

  Reaching into her purse, she pulled out the package of wipes she was putting to good use lately and fixed her makeup. Just make it through the day. She took a deep breath and turned the car off. Holding onto her purse and grabbing her lunch, she opened the door and went into the building.

  Hurrying through the lobby and arriving at her desk, Allison sat. She didn’t stop to talk to anyone that morning. Keeping her head down, she avoided eye contact. She risked a peek at Grace. She was busy at her own desk. Thank heavens. She couldn’t risk breaking down in front of anyone. She put headphones on and listening to a dance mix, she started the work dumped on her the day before. Turning it up loud enough to drown out everything else, she lost herself in the rhythm. After a while her mood lifted and her mind wandered to the dream she had last night.

  She craved the peace and calm of the meadow. It felt good to be with Rick again even if only for a short time. But what confused her the most was being taken to her friend, Trent. They’d been friends for a long time and they both had been through something difficult. Her husband died, and his wife abandoned him and their son many years back.

  A large stack of papers slammed down on her desk and startled her. She yanked the headphones off and spun around. Bob Wilson towered over her. His thick gut invaded her personal bubble. She pushed her chair back against the edge of the cubicle as she looked up at him. He didn’t understand the invisible lines of a person’s space.

  “Are those budgets I gave you yesterday, done?”

  “No, I’m working through the pile now.” Wow, does he think I’m Speedy Gonzales?

  “Get those done first, then get to work on these.” He placed a large hand over the stack he’d dropped on her desk.

  “Okay, Mr. Wilson.” She flipped through the pile quickly. None of it was the work she was hired to do. Of course. What’s your excuse today? Did he really have that much to do or was he just lazy? “I’ll do my best to get all of this done.”

  “I expect nothing less.” Bob patted the edge of her cubicle as he left.

  Allison looked back at the stack of papers and sighed. That stack would take her most of the day. And she had to start with yesterday’s assignments. When would she get her own work done? Her head dropped. What was with him?

  ***

  Allison sat in the lunchroom, stari
ng out a large window. Absent-minded, she dipped her spoon into the yogurt, then placed the utensil in her mouth. She welcomed the cool sweetness as it slid down her throat. When did her life become something she dealt with instead of lived and enjoyed?

  A hand waved in front of her face, obstructing her view outside. “Allison, are you listening to me?” Emily wanted her attention.

  “Huh?” She looked away from the window. “Oh sorry. It’s been a day.”

  “Bob up to his usual?”

  “Of course.” Emily had heard all of her complaints when it came to Bob. She thought Allison needed to stand up for herself. But Allison decided it was better to let things play out and hope for the best.

  Murmurs of conversations reminded her other people were near. She sat up and leaned closer to Emily and met her gaze. “But, that’s not the only thing I’m all spacey about. Last night I had a dream I can’t get it out of my head.”

  “Ooh, do tell.” Emily twisted her blond hair around a long finger.

  “I don’t know. It was weird.” They’d been best friends since college. Inseparable.

  “Come on, you can tell me anything.”

  “I know.” Heat rose in Allison’s cheeks. She felt silly obsessing about one dream.

  “Must have been good. Was it a sex dream?” Emily grinned and her blue eyes lit up.

  Allison’s eyes widened. “No!” Her words came out a little too loud. A few people turned to stare. She leaned even closer to Emily and repeated quietly. “No. It wasn’t like that.” She moved her chair next to Emily so she didn’t have the table between them and described her dream.

  “So…your dead husband took you to another man’s house? And not just any man, Trent. Someone you both were friends with. What do you think that means?”

  Allison cringed. “Dead husband” still cut through her. “Nothing. It was a dream.”

  “All dreams have a meaning. They are the window to our subconscious.” Emily leaned over and put her hand on top of Allison’s. “Maybe you’re trying to tell yourself to move on.”

  Why did she focus on Trent? Didn’t Emily see the importance of Rick coming to her? “No, I had the love of my life. He was my one and only.” Allison removed her hand from under Emily’s and put it in her lap, lacing her fingers. The last of her food left untouched, her appetite completely disappeared.

  “I don’t believe that. Rick was the love of your life, but you can find happiness with another.”

  Allison looked at her watch. “It’s time to get back to work.”

  Emily put her hands out. “Okay, hold on, if you don’t like that, how about…” She tapped her finger on her lips. “Oh… I know, it’s how the dead can communicate with us. They’re not able to get through to us with our daily life taking up our attention.” She looked her in the eye. “Maybe Rick is telling you to move on.”

  Allison shook her head then stood up. “I’ll see you later.”

  Emily had always had an interest in the paranormal. Allison, on the other hand, kept her feet firmly on the ground. No evidence, no belief.

  Emily stood and caught Allison. She put her hands on her shoulders and frowned. “Just think about it.”

  “Ok, I’ll think about it.” She said what Emily wanted to hear. Emily’s expression revealed she saw through Allison’s ploy. But Allison wasn’t going to argue with her. “Talk to you later.” Allison turned and walked out of the break room.

  Five

  That night Allison sat in front of her computer at home before going to bed. After thinking about her dream all day, something bothered her. She had never been to Trent’s house and have only seen the few pictures on his profile. He lived in Montana and she’d never been there. Logging onto Facebook, she went to Trent’s page.

  They had gone to high school together. He was a grade ahead of her. They’d hung out occasionally when their friend groups got together, but hadn’t been close. She had a crush on him and tried to show her interest, but he’d been so quiet she barely got a word out of him. She figured he wasn’t interested and stopped trying. After school they went to separate colleges and didn’t hear from each other again for many years.

  While searching Facebook she saw his profile and sent a friend request. He’d accepted and they had messaged since. They emailed each other on a regular basis and occasionally talked on the phone.

  At their high school reunion, Rick and Trent hit it off and anyone would have thought they’d been friends their whole life. When Rick died, Trent got the first flight from Montana to make it to the funeral. Since Rick’s death, they became closer even though they lived in different states. He was a good friend.

  His profile picture was of himself, his son John, and granddaughter Faith. Allison clicked on pictures. One that caught her eye first was of a wooden swing hung from the ceiling at the far side of the porch, caught still in the image. In the middle of the porch was a matching table and chair set with cups and plates on it. A banner “Congratulations Graduate!” hung from the porch. People scattered the area smiling, holding plates of food and drinks. Father and son posed with wide grins. John held his diploma and Trent beamed with pride.

  The next picture was also outside, a view of a front yard larger than she had ever seen in Lincoln. A view of the mountains in the distance set a beautiful background. In the bright sun, Trent and his boy, around ten, outside playing catch. Father and son looked happy caught in that moment of time.

  Another picture from years before was his living room displayed in front of her. White walls with bright blue trim and flower-patterned furniture filled the room. The large window looking out onto the front yard covered most of the outside wall. Trent and John, when John was about six, sat on the floor in front of a Christmas tree. Smiling, they played with a new toy train set. Wrapping paper littered the floor.

  She flipped back to his profile picture. The living room was completely different. The walls remained white, but the trim was now also white. Tan couch and matching loveseat faced each other in the place of the floral furniture. Framed pictures lined a shelf across the room and nature paintings filled the room with color. The most recent pictures were what she saw in her dream.

  She stared at the photos for a while. Then it dawned on her. There were no pictures of his ex. She wondered what he did with the pictures of her. Allison’s pictures with Rick in them were packed away. She’d never get rid or destroy them but Trent’s situation was different. Trent’s ex-wife, left him many years ago with only a few words. There had been an extended time when Trent didn’t contact her, and later she found out what he had gone through. In a time of anger or sadness, did he pack the pictures away or were they disposed of?

  Her heart went out to him. Allison realized she was chewing on her thumb nail. She put her hands in her lap trying to make herself control the horrible habit. She didn’t know what to do. Her dream and all the questions surfacing were weird. There was no way she could prove or disprove what she had seen was real.

  Actually, she did know what she wanted to do; she wanted to talk to someone. But she didn’t want to call Emily and get another paranormal explanation from her. Trent was out of the question. She couldn’t understand why she had dreamt of him. He was her friend, one of two. And thinking about him in a different way was wrong. Did she want to move on? Did she want to move on with Trent?

  It was just a dream!

  ***

  Allison climbed into bed, hoping to dream about Rick. She knew it would be bittersweet seeing him, but she couldn’t help craving his sweet smile, his soft touch, and calming voice. She lay on her side and touched the empty space where her husband had slept. His pillow was still in its place. His clothes still hung in the closet, even his cologne sat in their bathroom. She hadn’t been able to get rid of any of his stuff. The pillow beneath her moistened. Wiping away the wetness, she rolled over and closed her eyes.

  Allison opened her eyes, finding herself in Trent’s living room again. This wasn’t what she wanted. She wa
nted the meadow of flowers and her husband. She took a deep breath, calming the tightness in her throat.

  She stepped around the couch trailing her fingers along the soft light brown material. Curiosity moved her to look out the large window. Moonlight bathed the front porch and lawn. It looked the same as the picture, minus people and dishes. The wooden swing swayed lightly. The mountains in the distance lighted by the moon took her breath away.

  How long before I wake up?

  Spotting the short bookcase on the other side of the room, she maneuvered towards it. A picture of Trent and his son, smiled up at her. The picture was taken almost a year ago. John held his baby girl in his arms and beamed like the proud papa he was. Trent looked at his son like a proud papa himself. Trent had posted it on Facebook and wrote of his granddaughter often.

  A picture of Trent caught her attention. Dark brown eyes stared back at her. His gentle smile calmed her. Gray salted his light brown hair. She chuckled, remembering his annoyance when he had found his first gray in his early thirties. Allison froze as she realized she’d been trailing her finger down the photo.

  She shook her head and put the picture down. Allison moved farther into the house, down a long hall, searching for a clue someone else existed. The silence overwhelmed her. Being alone was something she’d brought on herself but didn’t want anymore.

  The first door she came upon was open. A bedroom filled with art supplies. Trent’s son was an artist. John went to school and got a degree in art, then received a job with the Seattle art museum. The room was void of another person, so she continued down the hall.

  The next door was a large bedroom. She saw a large king-sized bed centered on the far wall. Clothing laid sprawled over the floor, hung over the open drawers of the dresser. Shocked at the mess of the bedroom compared to the rest of the house, she fought the urge to clean as she entered.

  The bed creaked as it moved. She muffled a cry. Not sure what to do, she froze.

 

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