Ashes to Ashes: Contemporary Romance Novella

by Tess Oliver

  Denni strolled over toward the fire as her fingers flew over the phone. With hesitation, she lifted the phone to her ear and waited. I could hear a voice on the other side. I was sure Denni would hang up. The long pause that followed seemed to confirm my guess but then she spoke.

  "Hey, Mom, it's me. It's Denise."

  I got up, grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and headed out onto the deck to give her some privacy. Dad's rusted, frayed chaise lounge was folded up and tucked against the side of the cabin. I pulled it out of the cold shadows and gave it a shake to get rid of the dead pine needles and any spiders that might have taken up residence.

  The lounge fought against me, wanting to retain the folded shape it had been in for months. With some effort and determination, I managed to pry it open. I settled it in the center of the deck where I could see through the railing and down to the forest below.

  I pulled the blanket around my shoulders to ward off the crisp icy breeze shifting through the forest. It seemed the last traces of Dad's ashes had been whisked off to the far away corners of the woods, which was exactly what he wanted.

  I leaned back, and surprisingly, the rickety lounge didn't collapse beneath my shifting weight. It was so quiet around the cabin, I could hear the soft murmur of Denni's voice as she spoke to her mom. I'd made the bargain and now I was going to have hold up my end of it. The thought of finishing Dad's novel was exciting but scary as hell. What if I started writing and discovered that my writing was shit? What if I couldn't set the tone or style to match my dad's? There was a lot to consider. I didn't want to start a project that could very well end in disappointment. I would feel as if I'd let Dad down completely.

  The sliding door opened and shut. I glanced back at Denni. I couldn't quite read the expression on her face, but I was relieved to see she wasn't angry or upset.

  Without a word, she straddled the lounge and settled back against me. I wrapped my arms and the blanket around her. She sighed as she looked at the view. I decided not to pry or ask her how the conversation went. She'd tell me if she wanted to.

  "It gets so cold here when the sun starts to set." She wriggled her body against me in a shameless attempt to steal more of my body heat. I was glad to give it. I'd have gladly transferred every molecule of heat to her, leaving myself just a frozen piece of human jerky if that's what she needed.

  "Those trees are beautiful scenery, but they provide just a little too much shade. It's great in the middle of summer, but at any other time of year it's too cold."

  She took hold of my wrists and pulled my arms tighter around her. "It's a good thing I brought along my Luke shawl with all his hot, hotness. You know what would be fun right now?"

  "I can think of at least one thing." I moved my hips forward to let her know that in those few seconds in my arms, she'd given me an erection.

  "Oh good, then we're on the same page. But not on this creaky old lounge. Let's go in by the fire. We can pull the blankets and pillows off the bed," she suggested.

  "I am in complete agreement with every damn part of that plan. I'll get more wood for the fire and you get the blankets and we'll meet in the middle. Preferably naked."

  She wiggled against me. "It's like we have the same mind." She grew quiet for a second. "Luke?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Thanks for talking me into calling my mom. I think she really is trying to make amends. We're planning to meet next month."

  "I'm glad, Denni."

  She twisted in my arms and peered up at me. "So when do you start writing?"

  Ten

  As much as Denni loved to tell me life stories, she kept enough things to herself that even though we'd been intimate all weekend and had talked and laughed together as if we'd known each other for an eternity, there was still a lot about her I didn't know. Like, for example, where we would be once we drove away from the cabin and the weekend slipped into the past.

  We'd spent all night in front of the fire, having some of the best damn sex of my life. I hated to think like a shallow asshole, but I was really going to miss having her naked in my arms.

  We'd nibbled on leftover crackers and sipped coffee and then I closed up the cabin. I'd tucked Dad's laptop into my duffle, not convinced I'd start writing but at least firmly committed to think more about the possibility. Denni had accepted that as holding up my end of the bargain. 'For now' she'd added, and I tried hard not to allow myself to believe that meant we'd see each other again.

  We walked along the uneven trail to the car. Denni kicked at the occasional pinecone and stopped every so often to watch a squirrel or scrub jay in action on a tree branch.

  "Denni, where are you heading once we get back to the highway? I'll take you wherever you need to go. I want you to be safe . . . and secure . . . and—" I stopped and badly wanted to finish with the words 'and mine forever' but it was stupid to even send my mind that direction. Other than the incredible bond we'd created in just two days time, Denni had never given me any indication that she wanted this to go any further than it already had.

  She shifted her heavy backpack on her shoulder, a bleak reminder that she was on a journey and that she had no intention of stopping in any one place. "Actually, if you can take me as far as the turnoff to Redmond, I can catch a ride."

  I stopped. "You're going back to Redmond? You really do like those bats." I focused on the conversation, trying hard not to let my true feelings show.

  "Well, the bats are a perk, but I'm starting a job there tomorrow. At the diner. I asked about the job when I went up to pay the check." She shoved her hands in her back pockets and continued walking. "I figured it was about time I found a job and started looking out for myself. I'm going to stay at the motel until I can afford more."

  I nodded but couldn't speak. She was moving on, and I was heading home to my life, the life before Denni. A prospect that seemed even more grim since Denni had popped into my life and shown me the difference between being begrudgingly content and blissfully happy.

  I swallowed back the dryness in my throat and managed to speak. "I'll take you to Redmond. I don't mind. I don't want you to hitchhike on that desolate road. It's not safe."

  She reached down and took hold of my hand. We walked in silence for awhile with only the forest music to entertain us.

  "Thank you, Luke. It's been a long time since I've had someone worry about me. I've forgotten what it feels like." She pushed her hair behind her ear as a faint smile crossed her lips. "It feels nice."

  We drove the hour to the Redmond turnoff, talking about fluffy, meaningless things like the best way to eat peanut butter and about which Seinfeld episode was the best. Denni stayed next to me, holding my hand or touching my thigh or resting her head against my shoulder. I kept wishing the miles to Redmond would stretch on forever.

  The sky was gloomy from a grouchy looking set of gray clouds when we reached the shabby motel, the place she intended on calling home for awhile. I hadn't noticed the tears in Denni's eyes until we were standing outside of the truck. She secured her backpack on her shoulder and turned to face me.

  "That motel room isn't going to be nearly as much fun without you," she said with just enough shake in her voice to make my chest feel heavy. "If you're ever in town," she said with a sweet, short laugh, "stop by."

  I was such a sap I couldn't get any words out, and there were plenty stuck in my tight throat. Stay with me. I don't ever want you to leave my side. Be with me forever. Those were all the words flashing through my head, but the only ones I could utter were "stay safe, Denni. Please."

  She threw her arms around me, and I held her until the first drops of rain fell. Then with a quick kiss, the girl of my dreams turned around and walked away from me.

  Eleven

  Three months later

  The pawn shop was cluttered with everything from musical instruments to macabre looking skeleton parts from a museum display. The rotund pawn shop owner walked out at the sound of the bell. He was chewing a mouthful of, from the
aroma in the otherwise musty smelling shop, something with onions.

  He wiped his hands on his shirt and walked up to the counter. "Do you have something to sell or buy?"

  "Uh, I'm looking for a particular necklace. It's gold with a tear drop shaped pendant that has a diamond inside of it."

  His gray eyes assessed me for a moment, and he seemed to decide that I was legit. He walked to the back without a word and returned a few minutes later with a large box and a key. He set the box on the counter and opened it. He reached in and held up a gold chain with a sparkling pendant. I had never seen the diamond necklace, but something told me this was the one. I could almost picture it hanging around her long, graceful neck, partially shrouded by her mass of wavy brown hair.

  "How much?"

  "Eight hundred. It didn't come in a box."

  I pulled out my wallet, paid the man and walked out holding the necklace in my hand.

  I climbed back into the truck. I had a long enough drive to think about everything that had happened in the past few months. I'd broken off with Emma almost the moment I'd returned from scattering Dad's ashes. She was upset and angry, but, in the end, I think she realized that it hadn't been working for a long time. Naturally, my resignation from my job followed, especially when my boss, Emma's dad, asked for it. I was glad to be free of the place. It gave me time to write. I'd never been a big spender, and with a small chunk of inheritance money, I decided to give myself a year to become a writer. If nothing came of it, I would head back to the work force. But I needed to try. Dad's incomplete novel had pulled me in, and I immersed myself in the world he'd created. I found the words flowing right along behind his. Everything had changed, and there had been only one more thing on my list. It wasn't a bucket list but more of a life list. And I had to check off the final thing.

  I knew that there was a good chance Denni had already moved on from Redmond. There was a good chance she'd found someone else. There was a good chance she wouldn't even be happy to see me. Maybe it would even take her a second to recognize me. All of the possibilities I faced were heartbreaking, but I had to try.

  I drove past the world famous chili dogs and the miserable little outbuilding where Denni had hidden. That was the place, the moment where my life had changed completely.

  The drive felt longer this time as if the road was being stretched with each rotation of my tires. It was a crisp winter day, and the sky was a sharp blue interrupted only by a few lingering clouds from an earlier storm. It seemed there were even less cars than usual on the road.

  When the sign for Redmond appeared on the side of the road, my heart hopped into overdrive and all my earlier worries returned. I'd convinced myself that this would more than likely end with disappointment and heartbreak, but it would have been worse not to know the ending.

  I drove over the speed limit. My truck hurtled down the uneven road. I clutched the steering wheel hard, afraid that if I loosened my grip, the truck would turn around on its own.

  Redmond was a distinct little town with its bat adorned street signs and bus stop benches. It was small enough to drive around in less than twenty minutes. Its shops and houses were dilapidated and out of date. But I hadn't come for the ambience of a small, remote town, famous for its winged mammals. I came for the woman who had changed my life so dramatically in one weekend that it made me feel as if the rest of my adult life had just been a dull, meaningless dream.

  I parked along the curb across from the motel. Up the street, a row of pigeons were perched upon the sign over the diner. I stared at it, wondering just how I'd handle the disappointment. Hell, it wasn't going to be disappointment. Disappointment was finding out there were no chocolate glazed left in the break room donut box. If Denni was gone or worse not interested or not happy to see me, it would be nothing short of heartbreak.

  I took a deep breath and climbed out of the truck. The brisk air helped revive me from a long drive mired in deep thought. My focus was on the diner as I headed across the street, but it was a soft familiar voice that caught my attention.

  "Luke?"

  My gaze shot in the direction of the voice. She was wearing the diner uniform, a cheesy fifties skirt and blouse, and she rocked it like a top model on a designer runway. Her long mass of hair was tied up in a ponytail and her eyes . . . those hazel eyes.

  I walked toward her but in the end, we were both running. She flew into my arms and our mouths crashed together for a kiss that had been three months in the making.

  Denni lifted her lips from mine and smiled. "You came back to me. I was hoping you would."

  "Yeah, I just needed to take care of a few loose ends. Oh—" I reached into my pocket. "And I brought you this." I held up the necklace.

  Her eyes rounded. "My necklace!" she squealed. And we kissed again. A first in a long life of kisses.

  A Bend in the Road

  A Bend in the Road

  Copyright © 2015 by Tess Oliver

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Chapter 1

  I glanced up in the rearview and the faded blue bruise stared back at me, mocking me, reminding me that I’d made an embarrassingly bad choice. Decent radio stations had vanished along with the chunks of tract homes, gas stations and mini marts. I pushed the CD button and turned up the volume.

  The sky was a crystal blue and the smell of manure and garlic drifted through the miniature vents on my very miniature car assuring me that Aunt Gail’s house was just a few miles away. Four years of college and another year of slogging through job searches and interviews had kept me from visiting my favorite aunt. But as my carefully planned, carefully controlled life had unraveled over the past year, I'd realized how badly I needed to see her.

  Aunt Gail had always been a free spirit, a never take life seriously type of person, the complete and polar opposite of my mom . . . and of me. From as early as third grade, I’d had my life planned and organized right down from my Hello Kitty pencil box to the college I would attend and the type of man I would marry. But last summer, when my perfectly methodical and predictable mom announced in an almost humorous fashion that she was leaving my dad, it knocked me off my path. That one bend in the road led to a series of wrong turns from which I was still reeling.

  A highway sign was my marker for the unpaved road leading to my Aunt’s farm. The sign was still tilted at a precarious angle from when Ryder Stevens, a neighbor boy, and I had taken a joy ride in his dad’s tractor. Ryder had given me my first real kiss, and if my uncle had not decided one blistering hot August day to sneak out to his barn for a midday beer, Ryder would have been my first everything. Ryder had been one of those dreamy boys who never said much but who could still talk any girl out of her jeans, and I had been no exception. My teenage hormones would spin out of control whenever he was near, and even though he’d never fit into my perfectly tailored scheme of life, he'd been impossible to resist.

  Titus, Uncle Robbie’s massive black shepherd, looked the same but moved a little slower as he trotted out from the farmhouse to greet my car. After the long drive, it felt good to stand. “Hey, Buddy.” His plush fur smelled like hay as I leaned down and hugged his wriggling body. In the distance I could see Aunt Gail with a red kerchief on her head strolling in from the field with a basket resting on her hip.

  She saw me and lowered the basket to the ground. “Janie!” We both ran.

  We threw our arms around each other and hopped around in a circle, laughing and crying. It had been too long. We finally stopped long enough to catch our breaths and Aunt Gail took a step back. Some o
f the creases around her mouth and eyes had deepened and some of the auburn hair had been replaced with streaks of gray but she was still radiant.

  “My little Janie.” She reached up and brushed back a strand of my hair and her smile sagged. “Ooh, that man, I could take him out back and--”

  I took hold of her hand. It felt warm and slightly calloused. “Aunt Gail, it’s fine. He’s out of my life for good, and I would rather not be reminded of my stupidity.”

  She nodded and kissed my cheek. “I won’t mention it again.” She took my hand and led me back to the basket, which was brimming with smooth red tomatoes. She sighed. “We’ve had tomatoes coming out of our ears.” We picked up the basket together and carried it back toward the house. Aunt Gail laughed as she said, “I’ve been serving Robbie tomatoes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and even though he doesn’t complain much, I fear if I put one more tomato dish in front of the man, he’s going to run from the house screaming. I’m planning to box some of these up and drop them off on neighbor’s porches. But not Fran down at the end of the road… she’s having the same tomato abundance problem as me.” She paused, then smiled. “Although it might be kind of funny to leave her a box! Anyhow, enough about tomatoes. Come inside for a sandwich and you can tell me everything that has happened in the last four years.”

  Aunt Gail’s kitchen had a breathtaking view of the entire farm. A weak breeze bent the tender tips of the grass that ran along the border of the fields. The air lingered with the fragrance of freshly picked vegetables and a hint of garlic. The neighboring land had been used for growing garlic for years and the entire valley had always smelled a bit like an Italian restaurant, but it had never been an overwhelming smell, just enough aroma to keep you perpetually hungry.