Back to Yesterday

by Pamela Sparkman

  I tipped my glass towards the winking star. My chest puffed with pride and gave credit where credit was due. “Here’s to you, Tank and Levi. I wouldn’t be here without either one of you.” I drank to both of them. “Until we meet again.”

  ~ Hillsong United

  Oceans

  Charlie caught me writing one day. I wasn’t exactly hiding the fact that I was writing but I wasn’t exactly sharing it either. I don’t know why.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I finished writing my thought and then set the pen aside. Deciding to be truthful, I said, “I’m writing our love story.” He folded his arms across his chest, propped his shoulder against the doorframe, and with a grin breaking across his face like the sun eclipsing the horizon, he asked, “Yeah? What are you gonna call it?”

  I leaned back in my chair and contemplated for a moment. “I’m not sure,” I said. “I’m still thinking about it.”

  “Well don’t tell me how it ends,” he chirped. “I want to be surprised.”

  I threw a pillow at his head. “Get out of here,” I said with mock frustration. “And let me get back to work.”

  That was a few years ago.

  I picked up the manuscript and read back over the last thing I had written. Perhaps it was time I finished the story.

  I had stopped writing after Charlie and I lost our son Connor and our daughter-in-law to a horrible accident. We were never the same after that, and writing mine and Charlie’s love story seemed fruitless in the face of extreme and utter heartbreak. The only thing that kept us going was Cooper, our grandson. He was only twenty-one when he lost his parents, barely out of college, and he became our number one priority.

  For the better part of that first year, we were all hopeless souls, bound in grief with ropes of despair and chains of utter sadness, cutting off our will to go on, to live.

  One night Charlie awoke with a start, crying and reaching for me in the night.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I had… I had a dream,” he said. “I was alone in a room, no windows or doors. I was covered in a blanket of darkness and I felt this extreme amount of despair, like…like I had the sins of the entire world sitting on my shoulders.” He wiped the sweat from his forehead. “I had a desperate need to rid myself of it…throw it back out into the world and unburden myself. It was…” He rubbed his chest like it hurt. “It was awful. I couldn’t get out of that room. There was no escape. And then this light appeared and I felt warm and loved. Someone stepped forward.” Charlie looked at me, tears rolled down his cheeks. “It was Connor. He…he was smiling at me.” Charlie shook his head. “He showed me pictures like he was going through our photo album. He showed me a picture of him with a missing front tooth, then a picture of me teaching him how to throw a baseball. Then one of him on his first day of school, all grins and smiles. Then of his prom night and the day he graduated college. He showed me his wedding day and the day Cooper was born. He kept showing me picture after picture until I realized he was showing me his life and how in every image he was happy.”

  Charlie pulled me into his arms and with a trembling voice, he said, “Then monarch butterflies flitted and fluttered around the whole room.”

  The tears I had been holding back broke free and we held each other, crying. We weren’t crying because we were sad. We cried because it brought us peace. Our son had given us peace. He wanted us to know he was okay.

  That was how we were able to move on. We had shared that story with Cooper and it brought him a certain amount of peace too, and it put our broken pieces back together. We all felt the shackles of our grief loosen enough that we could all breathe easier after that.

  I didn’t know six years later I would be faced with another catastrophic blow to my heart.

  Charlie and I had eaten an early lunch together. Shortly after he’d said he didn’t feel well and he was going to lie down. When he was still asleep two hours later, I went into our bedroom to check on him. He was half propped on his pillow and half lying down, a letter on his chest. I picked up the folded piece of paper. It was the letter I had given back to him on our wedding night, worn, and yellowed from age.

  At the bottom of the letter, he had written…

  Sixty-seven years ago you waited for me to come home. Now, it’s my turn to wait for you. As long as it takes, I’ll wait.

  All my love, Charlie.

  When I looked back at Charlie, I fell into a heap on the floor beside our bed, realizing he had died in his sleep.

  The pain was insurmountable. Had it not been for Cooper, I think I would have died of a broken heart. My grandson and I held each other up when the other could no longer stand. We took turns being strong and we took turns falling apart.

  Charlie died September 5, 2009, and I still expected him to walk through the front door and greet me with a kiss and a hug and ask, “What’s for dinner?”

  Sometimes, I would talk aloud to Charlie like I did when he was at war. I would catch him up on the comings and goings of everyone, even though I felt like he already knew.

  Looking back down at my manuscript, I once again reread what I had written, wanting to finish writing the love story that had been in the making for years and not knowing how to finish it.

  Then I had an epiphany.

  I put the pen down, got up and turned out the lights, realizing I didn’t need to bring the story to a conclusion.

  Because our story didn’t have an ending. It had a…to be continued.

  Of this, I was certain.

  Sophie Louise McCormick Hudson

  April 15, 1924 – September 6, 2014

  Sophie Hudson passed away Saturday evening surrounded by family and close friends. She was loved by everyone who knew her, young and old. She left behind a legacy of love and kindness and words can’t fully express how much she will be missed. Funeral services will be held at St. Mary of the Seven Sorrows at 2 pm Monday, September 9, 2014. Burial to follow at Calvary Cemetery, Nashville, TN.

  I was in a dark room and then a brilliant bright light appeared, warming me from the inside out. In all my life, I’d never seen or felt anything so beautiful. A voice whispered behind me.

  “Sophie.”

  I turned around and there he stood, looking as dashing as ever in his uniform. Fixing his tie and smoothing out his sleeves, he smiled, and the light in the room became remarkably brighter.

  Cupping my mouth, I shook my head, not believing I was standing in front of him.

  I know it was only seconds, although it felt like a lifetime that we stood, staring at each other. Finally, my hands came down, my eyes still wide and unbelieving.

  “Ch-Charlie?!”

  His voice trembled. “You’re home.”

  A tear slipped down my cheek. “Y-you really waited for me?”

  “I promised you, didn’t I?”

  I flew into his arms, and we clutched each other as tightly as we could.

  “I missed you,” he said. “I missed you so much.”

  I wiped my eyes. “I have to look at you!” I exclaimed. “I have to see you.” I pulled back and held his face in my hands. My eyes bounced around from his chin to his nose, eyes and forehead. I traced my fingers over his eyebrows and outlined the contours of his ears. “It’s you – it’s really you!”

  He was young and so was I. Young and so very much in love. It was 1943 all over again.

  “You’re home!” he cried.

  “I’m home.”

  He took my hand and together we walked into the light. “Hey,” he said, stopping to drop a kiss on my nose. “Did you ever give our love story a title?”

  I smiled. “You remembered.”

  “Of course, I remembered.”

  “Yes, I gave it a title.”

  “What did you call it?”

  “Landslide.”

  Tilting his head, he asked curiously, “Why Landslide?”

  I kissed his mouth, tasting his love. “Because… I fell for you
the way the rain-soaked earth slips down a mountain. On solid ground one minute, and in the next, I was swept away.”

  “Oh Sophie,” he whispered, caressing my bottom lip with his thumb. “Sophie, Sophie, Sophie.”

  I knew what each Sophie meant. Charlie was the love of my life. He was the air in my lungs. He was everything I grew up to be. And now, he was my eternity.

  I looped my arm through his and we started walking again.

  “Come on,” he said, “Connor is waiting to see you.”

  Every book gets harder to write. Every word means more than the last. And this book is closest to my heart. If you read the Stolen Breath series you’ll understand why. I gave Sophie and Charlie my best. I hope my best will do. It was a pure labor of love. Not a single word was wasted. Every sentence, every paragraph was meant to leave a mark on the heart of the reader. After all, I had you mind when I wrote it.

  Unsteady ~ X Ambassadors

  Dark ~ Breaking Benjamin

  Smile ~ Nat King Cole

  Ain’t He Sweet ~ Annette Hanshaw

  On & On ~ The Sweeplings

  She Used to Be Mine ~ Sara Bareilles

  Strong ~ London Grammar

  Love in the Dark ~ Adel

  Chasing All the Stars ~ Fleurie

  High Hopes ~ Kodaline

  Come to This ~ Natalie Taylor

  Til my Heart Stops ~ Too Far Moon

  Journey (Ready to Fly) ~ Natasha Blume

  Give Me a Sign ~ The Sweeplings

  Shelter ~ Dash Berlin, Roxanne Emery

  Oceans ~ Hillsong United

  I have SO many people to thank. People who truly gave their hearts and souls to Charlie and Sophie’s story. So, let me begin my list of thanks and eternal gratitude. This is in no particular order.

  My beta readers:

  Anne Woodall. You are one of my favorite people. I value your friendship and your most valuable input. You never steer me wrong and I thank you so much for all the time and dedication you give me. Muah!

  Trenda London. You’re a gift. A sweetheart. You’re like my spirit guide. Thank you so much for your astute observations and your words of wisdom. I treasure them. And you!

  Trisha Rai. My dear, you stick to me like glue. You never waver and you are rock solid with our friendship and your advice. All things important to me and valued. I love you, girl. Don’t ever forget that.

  Sharon Hanson. Friends since high school. Bet you never thought you would be beta reading my novels and offering me pearls of wisdom, did you? But I’m glad you are. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart – I thank you for your amazing belief in me. You said something to me once that I will never forget, and I won’t mention it here, but it stuck with me and I’ll never forget it. And you probably have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, but that doesn’t matter. I do. I hold on to it and keep it safe in my heart. Thank you for being my friend. And thank you for the faith you have in me.

  Maayan Nahmani. You are a gem, sweet friend. I adore you. I thank God every day for you coming into my life. You do so much for me and you do it with a smile. I hope you know how much you mean to me. You do, right? I love you! Never forget it.

  Author Melyssa Winchester. As always, I look to you for your valuable thoughts and insight. I appreciate you more than words can say. Another literary journey taken with you by my side and I couldn’t ask for anything more. Thank you!! Love your face.

  Christie Parker. YOU – ARE – AMAZING. I know without a shadow of a doubt that you gave Charlie and Sophie your undivided attention from start to finish. No minute detail went unnoticed by you. And if you couldn’t find anything to critique you asked me to give you another day to find something. LOL. You have no idea how much I loved you for that. Because I know how much you wanted their story to shine. I honestly believe this is the best story I’ve ever written – and it shines brighter because of your attention to detail. I’ll never be able to thank you enough! From the bottom of my heart – THANK YOU!

  Joey Winchester. Dude, you rock. Your reactions to Charlie and Sophie gave me the cheesiest smiles on the planet. Your potty mouth and ‘get to the point’ analysis was the icing on this writing journey. I looked forward to the things you would say every time I sent you chapters to read. You never disappointed me. Don’t ever change! Thank you for agreeing to beta read. I needed a male’s perspective and you were never shy about offering it to me. Again, thank you!

  To my editor, Felicia Sullivan. You always have my back. You are the best at what you do! Thank you!

  To my cover artist, Letitia Hasser with RBA Designs. You did such an amazing job. I told you what my vision was as best I could and you brought it to life with perfection. Thank you so much!!

  To E. M. Tippetts Book Designs. You guys make me so happy. You always do an amazing job and you do it so quickly. Thank you for making the hours and hours of writing down words and making them beautiful on the page.

  And a very special thank you to my dad, who falls in the category of beta reader and aviation consultant. When I told you my idea for Sophie and Charlie you were my biggest cheerleader. And not only that, but you helped me with all the mechanical stuff regarding Charlie’s plane. Even sending me text messages at four a.m. with afterthoughts and brainstorming ideas to get Charlie off the ground. Without your knowledge and expertise I would have been dead in the water. Or crying in a corner somewhere. Either way. You’ve always been there. When I needed you the most – you’re always there.

  Thank you.

  Also, thank you for letting me use your poem Imprisoned Heart.

  My dad wrote that poem years ago. I found it in a book of poetry he had written. I read it and knew it would be perfect for this story. Almost as if it was – fate.

  To my husband and children. Thank you for putting up with me locking myself away to write once again and not grumbling about dinner being late or the fact we had pizza too many times. Your quiet support enables me to write stories that, hopefully, touch hearts and minds. I write the stories that your love inspires. Thank you for that.

  And to my readers. I humbly thank you for letting my stories come into your life. If this is your first book by me, I hope you enjoyed it. If it isn’t and you’ve read my others, I hope I delivered everything you expected. After all, every word written is with you, the reader, in mind.

  Thank you for reading!

  Please consider leaving a review on Amazon and Goodreads.

  I grew up in Alabama and have always been an avid reader. I had a stack of those Little Golden Books and I can remember reading Three Little Kittens over and over and over again. It was my favorite.

  Fast forward and the older I got the more in love with books I became. So, I’m admitting that I am a huge nerd. The only reading I don’t like are those math word problems. And I’m okay with that because no one has ever asked me in real life... “If I give you two bananas and take away six apples, how long will it take the southbound train to collide with the northbound train if Johnny left his house at midnight?” It just doesn’t happen.

  So, yeah, books are my thing.

  Oh and music. All kinds. Love.It.

  Each book in Stolen Breaths series is a STANDALONE novel.

  You can find the first book in the Stolen Breaths series here…Lily and Cooper’s Story

  The second book in the Stolen Breaths – Shattered – Joe and Maggie’s Story

  The third book in the Stolen Breaths series – Skin Deep – Hayden and Beth’s Story

  Please feel free to contact me by email

  Facebook page

  Goodreads

  Instagram

  Copyright © 2016 Pamela Sparkman

  Edited by Felicia A Sullivan

  Cover Design by RBA Designs

  Interior designed and formatted by:

  www.emtippettsbookdesigns.com

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the
author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Books by Pamela Sparkman

  About Back to Yesterday

  Letter

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four