Destiny

by Cindy Springsteen

  Destiny

  Forever &Always

  Book One

  Cindy Springsteen

  This book is a work of fiction, although inspired by true events. With the exception of recognized historical figures, the characters in this novel are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental, except by those willing to have their true names used.

  Copyright © 2015 by Cindy Springsteen

  NEW EDITION

  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.

  Cover & Book Design: Wicked Muse

  Photo: Cindy Springsteen

  New Edition Editor: Leanore Elliott

  ISBN-10: 1530027624

  ISBN-13: 978-1530027620

  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to two very special people: my Mom and Dad, who sadly aren’t here anymore. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about them and wish that they were still here with me on earth. I would have loved for them to have been a part of all the happiness life has brought me. The love they had for me impacted me in so many ways. There aren’t enough words in the world to describe how much I love and appreciate all they did for me and my family.

  Love and miss you Mom & Dad!

  Acknowledgements

  I never thought I would see my novel truly come to life a second time and be published again. It took a lot longer than I thought it would and I continue to learn in this process. So many people have helped me in this journey and in bringing this book back to life. It is very hard to know where to even start.

  First, a HUGE thank you to my family, my wonderful husband and two amazing children for supporting my writing career. They believe in my story and in me, more than I do at times. It has been a long hard road making this the best that I possibly could. Thank you all for standing by my side, Forever & Always!

  Thank you my wonderful editor and cover designer, Leanore Elliott, who read this story over and over, to make sure it was as perfect as it could possibly be. Then you took so much time working with me creating a cover that everyone loves! I am blessed to have found you!

  To Crystal Bozeman Clifton, my dear friend, who for the last five years has listened to me talk about this story and is always there to lend a helping hand or an ear to listen whenever I need it. You are a treasure and I am eternally grateful!

  To Deborah Schmidt, Elizabeth Tencza, and Debra Delakas. Each of you made such impacts in my life and my choices. You have stood by me after all these years and continue to support everything I do! Love you!

  To Micaela and Barbara Kessler, Lori Lite, Ella Gram, Mary Ann Robinson Meyer, Carol Ann, Debbie Pesiri Falcon, Krystle Javier, Maria Regina-Walters, Cheryl M Maye Pav, Jessica Baker-Bridgers, Belinda Gallant, Corry Parnese, Linda Phillips and so many more for always being there when I need you. Each of you plays a part in my inspiration to continue to write more.

  To Air Supply, after approximately 34 concerts to which I have had the pleasure of attending, including the one where my children got to sing on stage with you. For 40 years, I have been listening to your music and I wanted to thank you! Your music inspires me always has and always will. Your songs are truly my story!

  Prologue

  A peaceful evening can take a turn in a split second. I have been anticipating this moment all week. I pour a cup of coffee and pick up the book I’ve been trying to finish. I sit on the couch and finally have time to relax. The television is on with the volume down low. It’s been hard lately, to find time to enjoy the simple things in life.

  From outside, a car door slams, then another, as angry voices filter in from the street. Waiting for them to stop, I pick up on my daughter’s distinctive tone. I can’t make out the words, but I feel the desperation. Moving to the window, I peek past the blinds. I see her out in the street, arguing with him, again. It’s hard not to get annoyed, as this is the second fight this week. Will they wake up the whole neighborhood? I want to listen, but know I shouldn’t. I don’t want to interfere, but know that I might have to.

  It is so hard to walk away and go back to the couch. As a parent, my every instinct is to protect my daughter. It takes every ounce of willpower to let her walk her own path. I stare at the pages of my book, unable to focus or read. The yelling continues as I try to block it out.

  I believe some people are destined to be together. Then there are relationships that look like they will last forever, while fate works to intervene. My heart breaks for the pain of my daughter’s unknown future.

  Thirty-four years ago, I was that young girl on this same street. I was the one crying and begging for it not to end. I close my eyes and can still picture the scene as clearly, as if it happened just yesterday.

  I remember everything about that night, that moment in time. I remember his face and the sadness in his eyes that I had never seen before, even having known him for so long. I was scared, I knew whatever he was about to tell me was worse than anything my mind could have imagined. It would forever change my life, as I knew it. The day when the person you believed in, gave your heart and soul to, betrays you and your heart hurts so much that it can barely beat. A true darkness arrived that would shadow every second, every moment and every day in the coming years. My world as I knew it had just died and I didn’t know how I was ever going to move on.

  I jump back to the present as my daughter comes bounding into the house, slamming the front door.

  Tears are falling from her face.

  I look at her and my heart breaks. Why must love always be so hard?

  “He hates me! He doesn’t want to ever see me a-again,” she stutters through the endless tears falling from her eyes.

  I know from experience that there is nothing I can do, nothing I can say that will take away the pain she is feeling at this moment. “I know you won’t believe this, but I was once a teenager. I know how you feel…more than you can ever imagine,” I say to her as memories of a first love and heartache begin to flood my mind.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Thirty-six years earlier

  1977 – Age 14

  Moving Day, June 25th

  I was up all night. There was no way that I could sleep; it was like Christmas Eve. We were finally getting our own house. Up until today, we had lived in an apartment above my grandparents, where I’d lived for as long as I could remember.

  There were only six houses on the block we were moving to and my house was right in the middle. It was nothing fancy or special, but in a couple of days, it would be ours. It was gray with a nice picture window that I envisioned my mom decorating with her plants. A huge tree took up most of our postage-stamp-sized lawn. The backyard looked pretty small too, but our dogs Winnie, a Yorkie; Henri, a poodle; and Toto, a silky terrier, were gonna love having their own yard to run around in.

  Liz arrived early, just as she promised, to help us move in. Liz was my best friend. We met three years earlier, right before we finished fifth grade. We were both a part of a community service project, making ornaments for a local nursing home. We became instant friends.

  Now, we had just graduated middle school a week before, and it couldn’t have come soon enough. It’d been a complete nightmare for both of us. Without her friendship, I don’t know how I could have gotten through those tormenting last three years. We seemed to be singled out early on. Two shy, awkward young girls, with not much fashion sense, gave every bully in the school cause to choose us as their targets. It didn’t matter when we finally got the gist of what clothes to wear, how to fix our hair, or what makeup to use, the nasty comments always continued. Now that was finally all behind us. In September, we would
go to high school and hope for things to be better.

  “Come upstairs, I want to show you my room,” I anxiously told her.

  My room wasn’t huge, but it was larger than the one at my grandmother’s. The walls had light brown paneling on them, and my ceiling was pink. I had a nice-size closet, and I couldn’t wait until all my clothes were hanging in it.

  “It looks really great! Maybe we can get most of it set up today, if we can find the boxes with your stuff in it,” Liz suggested.

  “I hope so. I can’t wait to sleep in here tonight. Let’s go find some more boxes.”

  When we walked down the stairs, I heard a knock at the front door and went to answer it. Standing in front of me was a woman and two children.

  The woman was holding a chocolate cake with strawberries on top. “Welcome to the neighborhood,” she said with a huge smile on her face. “My name is Sarah, and this is David and Michele. They live on the corner of your street. I live directly across the street from you,” she continued as she handed me the cake she was holding.

  The boy looked about my age, medium build, with dark brown, longish hair, and his sister was a little younger. She was really cute and had wavy, long brown hair.

  “Hi,” they both greeted me.

  “Hi,” I said back. “Thank you for the cake. Let me get my parents.” I felt sort of awkward, not knowing what to say to them. I found my parents in the kitchen unpacking and told them about the woman at the door. I saw Liz coming in the back door with a box. “Where did you go?” I asked her. “A neighbor and some kids were just at the door welcoming us to the neighborhood. Look at the cake they gave us.”

  “Wow. Yeah, I was out looking for more boxes with your name on them to unpack.”

  After working on my room for a couple of hours, we decided it was time for a break. The house was in chaos with boxes everywhere, as we made our way downstairs.

  “There’s a bunch of kids playing on the street. Are those the ones you met?” Liz asked as she looked out the front window.

  I walked over and saw a bunch of kids. “Yes, two of them are the ones I met earlier. “Let me grab a couple cans of soda and we can sit outside on my front steps.” I headed to the refrigerator.

  “Don’t you goof off too long; there’s a lot to be done around here,” my mom called out as we were heading out the door.

  “We won’t,” I called back.

  We sat on the stoop and watched all the kids playing street hockey. The two I met earlier waved when they saw me. I waved back and smiled. A few minutes later, I saw another boy about my age, heading towards me. My every instinct was to put my head down.

  “Hey! I’m Danny. My brother and sister said they met you earlier.”

  I glanced up and when I saw him up close, my heart skipped a beat, fluttering uncontrollably. I’ve never felt anything like this before. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but looking into his blue eyes made me feel like instant melting butter. “Hi, I’m Cassidy—umm—yes, I met them earlier.” I was instantly dumbfounded as to what more to say. “This is my friend, Liz.”

  “Hi Liz. Nice to meet you.”

  “It’s nice to meet you too, Danny,” Liz replied, giving me a holy cow look that he couldn’t see.

  A warm feeling came over me, as I took in his athletic build, clearly visible in his blue jeans and t-shirt. I found myself staring at him, mesmerized by his every move and the sound of his voice. I forced myself to look away for a moment. When I glanced back, he was staring at me.

  “Well, I’d better get back to the game, but I will talk to you later, okay?”

  “Sure. I should get back to unpacking anyway,” I replied as Liz and I headed back into the house. “Did you see his eyes? I couldn’t stop staring at him. I think I’m going to really love living on this street.”

  “I noticed,” Liz teased as she laughed.

  We went back upstairs to my room and returned to emptying more boxes. I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about Danny. I wondered when I would get to see him again. We managed to finish unpacking and setting up my room before Liz had to leave. I had hoped she could stay later, so we could sit outside again.

  Exhaustion finally came crashing down as I climbed into my bed, in my new room that I loved. I closed my eyes as thoughts of Danny filled my head and dreams took over.

  ~* * * *~

  Everyone was playing outside the next day when I gathered the courage to go sit on the steps alone.

  As soon as Danny saw me, he came right over and sat down. “Did you get all unpacked yesterday?”

  “Yes, my room is all done, but there’s a lot more to do in the rest of the house.” A quivering feeling began to churn in my formerly calm stomach. Why when I saw him did I instantly feel different? Not that I had much experience with boys, most were pretty mean to me in middle school. I didn’t understand what was happening to me but—I liked it. A good-looking boy actually knew I existed and wanted to talk to me.

  “Can you stay outside for a while? I’m going to play hockey for a bit, but I would also like to hang out with you…if you’re going to be around?” he asked.

  “Sure, I’ll be around.” I couldn’t believe he wanted to spend time with me. Am I dreaming? I sat there, mesmerized by Danny’s every move. I didn’t know if it was minutes or hours later when he came back to sit with me.

  We spent the next couple of hours talking about everything.

  He was 15 years old and would be going into tenth grade in September. He told me about his brothers and sisters. I’d only met two of them—he had two more. His parents owned a beverage center in town, and he worked there whenever he could.

  I told him that I was an only child and that I had been living not far away, before I moved to this neighborhood. As far as school was concerned, I didn’t share with him my middle school experiences. I was afraid he might see me differently.

  He also told me he was on the school hockey team and went on Sundays to practice.

  I wasn’t surprised by this. I could already tell that he loved the sport by watching him play all day and the day before.

  He then said he would like me to go to one of his practices sometime.

  I was ecstatic that he invited me. Oh, wow. A boy had never invited me anywhere before. I felt nervous suddenly and decided to try to move the conversation to something else. I went into a story about how last month, I was in my cousin’s wedding party and had to dance with a boy for the first time.

  When I told him the boy’s name, his face changed.

  “What? What’s wrong?” I asked, worried that maybe I said something wrong.

  “You’re not going to believe this, but Jerry is one of my best friends. He told me about you and how he had to dance with a girl,” Danny said with a laugh.

  “No way! His brother married my cousin.” I felt instant relief and smiled. How strange is it that he heard about me before we even met? I believe in destiny. Maybe there was a reason why we were meeting.

  “Wait until I tell him that I met you. He did say the wedding went good and the dancing wasn’t as bad as he thought it was going to be.”

  “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be either. He’s a nice guy. It was just strange, dancing with someone I didn’t even know.”

  He asked me if I had ever gone out with someone. I’d only been one date, one night and it was a disaster. A boy asked me out to the pizza parlor and we met there. What he failed to tell me was that our date was dutch treat and that I was supposed to pay for my own food. It all felt awkward and we truly had nothing to say to each other. After we ate, we went our separate ways and avoided each other in school the rest of the year.

  Danny and I continued to talk until he told me that he needed to go work and asked me if I would be around later.

  I told him I would and to ring the doorbell when he got back. I watched as he walked away and continued to watch until he walked in through his front door. When I could no longer see him, my mind began to r
amble over our conversation. I loved the way talking to him made me feel. I felt special, because he thought I was interesting enough to talk to. Not like how other boys had treated me up until now. Like they thought, I wasn’t bright enough or pretty enough to spend time with. I really hoped he would come back soon. I went back inside and helped my mom unpack.

  When the doorbell finally rang a few hours later, I nearly fell over the boxes in the middle of the room, rushing to get the door. I opened it and invited Danny inside to meet my parents.

  CHAPTER TWO

  My parents were cool with Danny. They treated him like he was just another one of the kids in the neighborhood. For the next week, we saw each other every day. He came over in the mornings. I made him breakfast and then eventually, lunch. We spent so much time talking, yet I couldn’t tell you about what. It was everything and nothing at the same time. We were learning about each other on a deeper level, even if we didn’t realize it at the time.

  I did know something in me had changed since the day I met him, and continued to change every day after. It’s inevitable that changes occur when your soul finds its other half—at least that’s what I believed. I felt like a different person around him. I found myself laughing more, smiling all the time, and counting the seconds until I saw him again. I think I was meant to meet him.

  Then, on July 1st, things became a little complicated for us. I was sitting in my bedroom, listening to some of my 45 records, when I happened to look out my window. I spotted Danny's brother, David as he put something into our mailbox. From his rapid movements, I could tell he was trying to do it unnoticed. Unfortunately for him, I was a very observant teenager. Intrigued, I went downstairs, my brain going a thousand miles a minute. What did he put in there? I went outside, opened flap and pulled out a letter, which read: