An Early Spring

by Ann Lister

  “I could hire a moving company to haul my things and we could fly back.”

  “You feel comfortable sending your stuff that way?”

  “It's not my first choice, but I think that plan holds the most logic,” she said.

  Nick nodded and set his hand onto her bare thigh, lightly squeezing. The passing cars illuminated the emotion building in her eyes. She was quiet for the last ten minutes of the ride and Nick began to worry she was having second thoughts.

  Colby turned into the driveway for the Malibu beach house and parked the car. Nick started to open his door and realized Colby hadn't moved. He watched her slowly remove the keys from the ignition and collect her purse on the seat, then step from the car, appearing to move in slow-motion. Nick came up beside her at the front door and waited for her to open it. Once inside, he slid his arms around her waist and turned her to him.

  “Babe, what's going on?” he asked. “Have you changed your mind about moving?”

  Colby pressed her face into the warmth of his neck; her arms folded behind his shoulders. “I want to go with you, Nick. I do. But, I'm nervous about tomorrow. It will be very...emotional for me.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “All the things from my past are in that storage unit,” she said. “Stuff I haven't seen in years.”

  “I'll be there with you,” he said. “Every step of the way.”

  She nodded against his shoulder, then pulled away and walked into the bathroom. A moment later, Nick heard the shower water running. Opening up the storage unit the next day would be like picking off a scab for her and he felt powerless to protect her from the pain.

  It was difficult for him to watch her struggle with feelings she had for a guy she loved a decade ago, but he knew she had to sort through it in order to fully move on – with him. All he could do was offer support where he could and hope their relationship was strong enough to survive it.

  Colby found Nick standing out on the deck overlooking the ocean; his backside facing her. A soft wind blew his brown hair about his head; the moon reflected off his broad shoulders. He looked tired, with his elbows resting on the railing. She watched him for a moment, listening to the sound of the tide crashing on the beach below them. She approached him silently and set her hand on the small of his back. She felt him flinch.

  “Are you coming to bed?” she asked.

  He turned to look at her; noticed her eyes were slightly swollen from crying, and ran his fingers along her jawline. He opened his arms to her and waited for her to step against him. Soon as her face settled against his chest, his arms surrounded her; gently rocking her in his embrace.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I know you do,” she said. “And I love you.”

  She took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He climbed onto the bed beside her and waited for her to curl against him beneath the cool, cotton sheets. He wanted to make love; to physically show her how he felt, but simply holding her seemed to be what she needed most.

  In the morning, Colby boxed up the things she had brought to her friend's beach home and set everything by the front door. She didn't want Nick lifting anything heavy and did her best to keep the boxes as light as possible. An hour later, they were loading her rental car and were soon on the road, with Nick driving behind her in his rental.

  Their first stop was at the rental car agency where Nick returned his vehicle, then it was on to the storage unit, with Nick sitting in the front seat beside Colby. They agreed it made more sense to keep Colby's rental car until the airport, just before they had to catch their eight o'clock night time flight back to Colorado.

  Along the way to the storage unit, Colby was almost completely lost in thought, adding more stress to an already stressful situation for Nick. By the time Colby pulled up next to her storage unit, Nick's stomach was tied into one giant knot. A few months back after his accident, she had been his rock. Now it was his turn to be hers. He took a deep breath and looked at her.

  “Is this it?” he asked.

  Colby nodded and flashed him a weak smile. “I'm nervous to open the door.”

  “Then let me do it,” he said, and reached for the key in her hand.

  She hesitated for a moment, then dropped the key into his palm. Nick got out of the car and stepped toward the unit. This needed to be done and done quickly, he thought. The less time they spent here, the better. He turned the key in the lock and pushed it open.

  Colby waited until Nick turned on the overhead lights before she entered. Her eyes flashed around the room. Neatly stacked boxes lined one wall with itemized labels adhered to the sides listing all the contents inside. One cream-colored couch and two matching plush chairs sat covered with sheets. An oval-shaped kitchen table and six chairs, an ornately carved headboard to a bed, the mattress and box spring; it was all there, an entire apartment disassembled and stacked. And all of it orderly - just like Colby, exactly as she'd left it.

  Nick watched her step around the furniture. She was looking for something and he didn't know what, although he had his suspicions. All he could do was watch and wait.

  “I'll go call the moving truck company,” he finally said, and stepped outside to make the arrangements. When he returned, Colby was kneeling on the cement floor gazing inside a box. As Nick got closer, he was able to read the label on the side of the cardboard box. It said: Wayne's Bedroom Items. Another plastic tub nearby contained sport's gear once belonging to Wayne. Then there were books, articles of clothing, and countless other items from a life that no longer existed – except inside Colby's head. By the looks of it, he doubted she had gotten rid of anything that had belonged to Wayne.

  Christ! This could be harder than I thought.

  He stepped closer and stroked the top of her hair; feeling the ultra soft texture of the long strands beneath his fingers.

  “Babe, dispatch for the moving company said they have a truck leaving a pick-up a few miles from here and it's final destination is Denver. They can be here within the hour to pack up your stuff. Is that gonna work for you?”

  Colby looked up at him. Tears streaked her face. “It makes no sense to bring Wayne's things with me,” she said. “So, I'm going to offer it all to his mother.”

  “Does she still live in the area?” he asked.

  “Far as I know,” she said. “I'll give her a call. Everything else can go on the moving truck for Colorado. Do you mind calling the movers back and finalizing that for me?”

  Colby stood up and took her cell phone outside the building to make her call to Wayne's mom. Nick could hear muffled pieces of her conversation but couldn't hear specific details.

  Nick made the final arrangements with the moving company and slid his phone back into his pocket. He pulled the sheet off of one chair and sat down; his arms folded across his chest.

  “Wayne's mom would like to see me,” Colby said, as she came back inside the storage unit and stood beside Nick.

  Colby had little to say, as they unloaded the beach house boxes from her car and put them with the other stuff going to Colorado. Then they loaded Wayne's boxes into her car and waited for the moving truck. When the movers finally arrived, she signed the necessary documents, gave instructions and directions to the movers and watched them load up the big truck.

  “I guess that's it,” Colby said, as they watched the moving truck drive out of the parking lot. “Do you think I'll ever see my things again?”

  He looked at her and saw a smile curling her beautiful mouth. It was the first sign of warmth he has seen from her since that morning. It made him sigh with relief. That brief moment gave him hope they would both survive the emotional impact of this trip.

  “The moving company came highly recommended,” he said. “I'm sure everything will be fine.”

  She reached for his hand across the seat and squeezed it. “Are you ready to meet Wayne's mom?”

  Nick looked out his side window. “I've given that some careful thought, Colby, and I'm thinking it
makes more sense if you go see her without me.”

  Colby sat up straight in the seat; her eyes flew open in shock. Nick lifted her hand and kissed the fingertips.

  “If you really want me to go, I will. You know that,” he said. “But I think you'll gain more from seeing this woman by yourself without the distraction of me sitting beside you.”

  She opened her mouth to talk, then closed it.

  “You know I'm right, babe,” he said. “I appreciate you wanting to include me in this, but if I'm there I know you'll feel uncomfortable.”

  Colby looked away and blinked back tears. “What will you do while I'm gone?”

  “You can leave me at the airport,” he said. “I'll wait for you there.”

  Colby nodded and slid the car keys into the ignition. She remained silent almost the entire trip to the departure terminal at LAX airport, then pulled her car over to the curb.

  Nick touched her face with his knuckles and waited for her to look at him.

  “I sense you're looking for something; answers, peace, whatever,” he said. “I'm hopeful this visit with Wayne's mom will give that to you.” He saw tears drop onto her cheeks and his heart burst into tiny pieces. “You need to see this through, babe. Otherwise it will continue to haunt you.”

  “I don't want to leave you here by yourself,” she said, her voice cracking.

  “I'll be fine,” he said. “I'll park myself at the bar closest to our departing gate and get something to eat.” He smiled at her, doing his best to reassure her. “You can do this. I know you can. And when you're done, I'll be waiting. Right here.”

  Colby nodded and watched Nick grab his overnight bag from the backseat of the car. She reached for him and pressed her cheek to his.

  “I'm scared, Nick,” she whispered.

  “You're the strongest woman I know,” he said, lightly brushing his lips against hers, then kissing her deeply; leaving her breathless. “Finish this, babe, then come find me.”

  Nick passed through the airport security check-points and went straight to the bar adjacent to his departing gate. He sat at the bar, shoulders slouched, mindlessly nursing a shot glass of Jack Daniels. He was nervous and his stomach hurt; probably because he'd had very little to eat all day, but there was no way he could eat now. With each passing hour Colby remained a no-show, his heart clenched tighter.

  He was starting to wonder if she'd show up at all. Maybe she had decided her life really was here in L.A. and not with him? Maybe seeing Wayne's mom would stir up old memories and make her rethink her decision to marry him? His fingers sifted through his hair. He felt like he was losing a grip, hated the uncertainty of things, hated not having control of the outcome. Their future was resting in Colby's lap and all he could do was wait.

  Great. More waiting.

  He thought about ordering a burger, anything to absorb the alcohol now burning the inside of his gut. Instead, he tossed the remaining whiskey in the shot glass into the back of his throat and signaled the bartender for another.

  He looked at the wall clock. The hours were passing and Colby still hadn't arrived. He pulled out his cell phone, saw there were no missed calls, and tossed it on top of the bar.

  What the hell is taking her so long?

  Colby didn't like leaving Nick at the airport. It didn't seem right. She really felt he should be with her on this trip to see Wayne's mom, but wrestled with the reasons why. Did she want him with her for emotional support or simply as a distraction to a situation she knew would be stressful.

  She navigated the side roads to an upscale neighborhood north of the city, then pulled up in front of a brick-faced estate and parked her car. She glanced at the two-story house with near perfect landscaping. It hadn't changed much in the years since she had last visited. The shrubs had grown taller, and the floral vegetation had changed, but that was about the only difference she noticed.

  She collected her purse from the seat and opened the car door, then stepped out into the bright California sunshine. After taking a deep breath, she walked up the brick pathway to the wide front door and knocked.

  “Colby,” an older woman with dyed blond hair said, swinging the door open.

  “Maryann! So good to see you,” she said.

  Maryann Masters was a delicate, slender woman, schooled in proper etiquette and manners. She wore her pearls like a badge of honor. Those that knew her, loved her. Those that didn't, respected her simply for what she stood for.

  They hugged for several, long moments until Maryann stepped back and closed the door. “Please come in,” she said, directing Colby down the hall covered with the same rich, paisley swirled wallpaper framed by white trim boards that Colby remembered and into the living room on the left painted in burgundy and cream-colored tones.

  “The house is still as I remember it,” Colby said.

  “Well, you know how Walter feels about change,” Maryann said, referring to her husband of nearly fifty years.

  “How is Walter?” Colby asked. “Is he still working at Mercy hospital?”

  “Not much has changed with him, I'm afraid,” she said. “Instead of considering retirement, he is still working far too many hours at Mercy. But he's head of cardiology now, and insists that title requires him to be a visible daily force in the heart unit.”

  Maryann extended her arm, offering Colby a spot to sit on the flower print couch, the very same couch Colby had sat beside Wayne during numerous holiday celebrations. Colby scanned the room. Several photographs of Wayne hung on the walls and an almost life-sized oil painted portrait of Wayne hung above the mantel. A single light mounted above it, lit the painting like it was hanging in a museum.

  The room was like a shrine to Wayne, Colby thought. She swallowed hard and wrung her hands in her lap. Two fingers scraped over her one carat engagement ring, bringing her gaze down to the sparkly gem. She toyed with the ring; centered it on her finger, and for a brief moment her thoughts went to Nick.

  “I was surprised to hear your news, Colby,” Maryann said. “Tell me why you're moving and where you're headed.”

  Colby looked at Maryann sitting across from her; the woman once destined to be her mother-in-law. Maryann's gaze was glued to Colby's lap, watching her spin the ring around on her finger – a ring that pledged her heart to another man and not her son. Colby felt herself flinch at Maryann's questions; tears began to bite at her eyes.

  “It felt like it was time for me to make a few changes in my life,” Colby said.

  “That sounds reasonable,” Maryann said. “Walter and I have long since thought you should.”

  Colby nodded. “I, ah, decided to give Colorado a try.”

  “Colorado? What on earth would you do out there?”

  Colby cleared her throat and shifted on the couch. “I took a job as a translator at a ski resort.”

  “Ski resort? But, you don't ski.”

  “My job doesn't require me to,” Colby said. “I'm working as a liaison for vacationers from foreign countries.”

  Maryann watched Colby fidgeting and adjust pillows that were perfectly fine where they were.

  “What's wrong?” Maryann asked.

  Colby felt her lower lip begin to quiver. Maryann was a woman Colby had once been able to talk to about anything, and now she has having difficulty articulating a single thought or sentence to her.

  “I've met someone,” Colby finally said, in a voice so weak, Maryann had to lean forward to hear it.

  The statement made Maryann lightly touch her chest and smile. Her long, thin fingers fanned; displaying perfectly manicured nails. “That's good news, isn't it?”

  “It should be, but I can't help but feel some degree of...guilt.”

  “You've got nothing to feel guilty about, Colby,” Maryann said. She stood up from her chair and crossed the room, then she sat down beside Colby and took her hands. “Let me see what you've been trying to hide,” Maryann said.

  Colby turned her hand over in Maryann's palm. Tears began to spill down h
er cheeks.

  “My Lord, Colby, that is a gorgeous ring.” Her eyes rose to Colby's. “Did that someone you met give this to you?”

  Colby managed a nod.

  “He obviously loves you a great deal,” Maryann said. “Do you love him?”

  “Very much, and that's why I feel guilty.”

  Maryann bent forward and pressed a cheek to Colby's, tenderly kissing her. “My son loved and adored you,” she whispered. “And I know you loved him. But he's been gone a very long time, Colby. You can't dwell on the past and what might have been. It's time you moved on with your life.”

  “I want to, I really do,” Colby said.

  “What's holding you back?”

  “I don't know.”

  Maryann sighed and patted Colby on the hand. “If you love this man, as that beautiful ring implies, than you need to give him your whole heart – as you did to my son. Life is short and Wayne proved that point to all of us. Don't waste a minute of it living in the past.”

  Maryann sat back, still facing Colby. “Tell me about him.”

  Colby wiped at her cheeks and gave her a weak smile. “His name is Nick,” she said.

  An hour later, Colby had told Maryann every last detail of how she and Nick met, fell in love, and their plans for an October wedding. She unloaded Wayne's belongings from her car and handed it all over to Maryann.

  “I'll take good care of these things, Colby,” she said. “Now, go take that ride out to the cemetery, as I suggested, and say good-bye to my son. Tell him about Nick and let him give you that final nudge you need to move on with your life. I'm certain by the time you leave, you'll feel that sense of closure you desperately need. No more feeling guilty, Colby. You have honored my son more than we ever could have imagined. Honor him one last time, by living a full and happy life with Nick.”

  Colby hugged the woman and walked down the brick pathway to her car. She slid into the front seat and looked at the dashboard clock. It was getting late, but this had to be done. When she boarded that plane with Nick, she wanted all her old baggage to be safely left behind her.