And yet, in the end, the how far had been … too far.
“Ma.” Ryan snapped his fingers again.
She slipped out of her haze. They looked at her oddly.
“Can you fix me a coffee, Lee?”
“Sure, Ma. Are you okay?”
“Can you bring in some more firewood?”
Ryan raised a brow as he regarded his sister, then simply nodded. Lee-Anne followed him out of the room.
Lynn made certain her daughter didn’t see her. She slipped off her blanket and went clear across the cold hardwood, to the tall bookshelf in the corner. She slid the diary between two books on the lowest shelf, far enough in, but not too far to draw attention.
She returned to the hearth and knelt before it. She opened the fire screen, and then, with some misgivings, regarded the envelope in her hand.
She wanted to tell them; wanted so badly to. Lee seemed completely oblivious, the lucky girl, but Ryan had been having as much trouble sleeping as she had. He hadn’t spoken a word about it, but more than once she had heard him rambling in his sleep. In his nightmares. In his own way, he probably knew.
She decided he didn’t have to know. Time would be his healer. Time.
She drew a match from the metal box her father kept beside the wood. And just as she struck it, she paused. She blew it out and tossed it into the hearth.
Take a good look.
That’s what Kain had written.
She drew out the clippings and fingered through them. Flipping them over and back, expecting to find something she had missed—something important—she had been disappointed in her search. She went to slip them back inside, and at that moment, she found it.
She had missed something.
Kain had folded a small piece of paper in half and had taped it inside the envelope at the bottom. She slit the tape with her nail and drew out the note; it had two tiny hearts coupled, drawn by his hand. She unfolded it, and when she saw what it was, cupped a gentle hand to her lips.
Now’s the moment,
Now’s the time …
Make Now count,
Every time.
I wrote it down so you didn’t have to. As time goes by, we tend to forget the simple things.
I love you.
Kain
She returned the papers, all but one; the last she slipped in the pocket of her robe.
She tossed all the wrappings into the hearth. The envelope burned quickly.
Big Al scampered into the room and snuggled up to her. She stroked her ears, then patted her on the side of her tummy.
“Thanks, Rye,” she said, as her son filled the log carrier with an armful of maple.
“You’re crying,” he said, and Lee-Anne, overhearing, joined them.
“Ma? What’s the matter?”
Lynn wiped her tears. She looked up at her beautiful children. She put her arms wide, and they fell in next to her in a hug. She would not let them go. Not ever.
She sniffled. And then she laughed.
Again they looked at her strangely.
Lynn looked to the window with a smile. It was snowing quite heavily again.
“You drive carefully,” Ryan told her. Rosa had been running the genny to keep things going at the diner. At least for another day, that was.
“Do you really have to work today, Ma? You barely made it back yesterday.”
The tears kept coming. She couldn’t begin to lose that grin; it was having its way with her, and it felt utterly wonderful. She was heartbroken, yes, in love with a ghost, but her heart was soaring.
As time goes by, we tend to forget the simple things.
“Let’s make a snowman instead.”
And they did.
~ a final word
Thank you. For being a reader. For coming this far.
Velvet Rain has been a long journey for me—much like it was for Kain Richards, I suppose. Sometimes, I feel like I’ve walked every step with him in those tired leather boots. I hope you feel the same way, at least at some level, and I hope you come away from his story feeling a little brighter, a little hopeful that every one of us can make a difference. We can all be heroes to someone.
Until next time, my friend. Be well.
David
March, 2012
~ dedication
For Mom—I know you can see this.
For Dad—I know Mom can see you.
~ acknowledgments
Cover design by David C. Cassidy
eBook prepared by David C. Cassidy
Author photograph courtesy Tina Forgét
Cover, Artwork, and Photography
Copyright © 2012
“Disgusting Behavior” font used with permission,
courtesy Eduardo Recife
Copyright © www.misprintedtype.com
~ about the author
David C. Cassidy—author, photographer, half-decent juggler—spends his writing life creating dark and touching stories where Bad Things Happen To Good People. Raised by wolves, he grew up with a love of nature, music, science, and history, with thrillers and horror novels feeding the dark side of his seriously disturbed imagination. He talks to his characters, talks often, and most times they listen. But the real fun starts when they tell him to take a hike, and they Open That Door anyway. Idiots.
David lives in Ontario, Canada. From Mozart to Vivaldi, classic jazz to classic rock, he feels naked without his iPod. Suffering from MAD—Multiple Activity Disorder—he divides his time between writing and blogging, photography and photoshop, reading and rollerblading. An avid amateur astronomer, he loves the night sky, chasing the stars with his telescope. Sometimes he eats.
~ connect with David
davidccassidy.com
facebook.com/davidccassidy
twitter.com/davidccassidy
Table of Contents
Prologue
What Really Happened
Part I ~ Life
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Part II ~ Death
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
Part III ~ Hell On Earth
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
Epilogue
A Final Word
Dedication
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Connect With David
Velvet Rain - A Dark Thriller Page 50
