Rebirth ...Part 2 ...Fears or Premonitions of Danger?
—C. Douglas Dillo
I had been in sorrow for a year grieving the death of my fiance, Regan, but just before Thanksgiving I met Marin Woods a girl from my graduate seminar and we hit it off instantly.
I couldn’t believe how natural we seemed to fit together and since I sensed we were going to be a couple I invited her to my family’s Thanksgiving dinner.
I wasn’t sure if meeting my family so early in our relationship would intimidate her, but Mar surprised me by readily agreeing.
She even looked forward to the weekend.
As it turned out I needn’t have worried—my family instantly took to her—even Quincy, our finicky golden retriever, adopted her and lay beside her, his muzzle gently resting on her foot.
“You seem to have won some hearts,” Mom smiled at Mar, while subtly winking at me.
Yes, she has won hearts, I smiled inwardly, feeling as if my own would burst.
After lunch, she and I hiked to the ridge where Regan had her accident. I had to show her—to get it over with and out of the way.
She peered cautiously over the edge at the green and yellow quilt of fields below. “It’s lovely here, but windy.”
“That’s how it happened,” I said solemnly. “One sudden gust of wind and poor Regan was swept over the edge.”
“How terrible for you to witness, Jess.”
“No, thankfully I didn’t see it. Regan and Charly had hiked up here—Charly’s our neighbour—you’ll get to meet her later.”
She shook her head sadly, sobered at the thought of what transpired.
“I just felt I had to bring you here,” I explained, “ I wanted to make sure there was nothing unspoken between us. I’ve spent a year grieving Regan, but all my sorrow won’t bring her back.”
She looped her arm around mine and leaned against me. I inhaled the faint scent of perfume.
“That’s a lovely fragrance—your perfume,” I told her. “What scent is it?”
She laughed, “I’m not wearing perfume. It’s fresh air. I guess I’m just a country girl at heart.”
I breathed in the fragrance of her skin and hair—it was fresh as snow with a hint of green apple.
“You really are a country girl,” I laughed. “I like that.”
We shared our first kiss on the ridge, buffeted by autumn winds, and watching a hawk circle the fields below.
Charly took to Marin as easily as Quincy did and by the time the family was sitting around the bonfire the girls seemed well on the way to becoming fast friends—sort of like Charly and Regan.
That thought made my throat tighten and my eyes smart—Mom noticed and called me aside, “Are you all right, Jess?”
“It’s nothing, Mom—just some wood smoke in my eyes. I’m doing fine—really.”
“Charly and Marin seem to be hitting it off,” she observed, “does it bother you?”
I feigned shock. “Bothered by two women being friends? No, not all, Mom—I hope Charly and Mar become close. I think it may even help Charly get over Regan as well.”
“You know Charly’s uncle has been worried about her—says she’s practically erected a shrine to Regan in her room. Poor thing—first her parents die, and then her best friend—it must be hard on her.”
I nodded. “I know it has been hard, Mom—on all of us, but I think it best now that we try to put it behind us—move on with our lives.”
She smiled at me and patted my hand softly, but seeing the two girls laughing by the fire put a wistful look on her face.
“Put it behind us…” she whispered, “I hope we can.”
Thank You!!