Second Time Love Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Laura M. Baird

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-502-9

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  Always, to my husband, for his constant support. And to my wonderful co-workers at the best dental office ever—thank you for your enthusiasm as I transition into the next phase of my life.

  SECOND TIME LOVE

  Romance on the Go ®

  Laura M. Baird

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  Her grief was oppressive, a heavy weight Grace couldn’t shed. It wrapped around her like a vise, squeezing every ounce of joy from her life. She saw no reason to get up in the morning, no reason to nourish her body with food. No reason to vacuum and dust and weed and water. To wash the car and go grocery shopping.

  All the normal things normal people did, day in and day out.

  What did it matter? Who would it matter to?

  She had no one now that her husband was gone. Thirty years together. Seven moves. Four states. No children. Countless pets. One who now fruitlessly tried to nuzzle under the covers with her.

  Freak accident. That was what the authorities called it. The kind people joked about, never thinking it could really happen to them.

  “I could step off a curb tomorrow and get hit by a car…”

  Well, that was exactly what happened. Michael apparently had been so focused on answering his phone that he didn’t realize he was already in the street, crossing against traffic. Until it was too late.

  Idiot! her mind screamed. He was too smart for that. He knew better!

  She went through the gamut of shock, denial, anger, sorrow, and back to anger. Now, just depression. Emptiness. Loneliness.

  How could you be so careless? How could you leave me?

  His scent lingered in the sheets she burrowed in, and she had not wanted to change them and lose what little connection she had remaining with him. His clothes still hung in the closet. His shoes lined the wall of the mudroom. His dentist appointment reminder card was clipped to the calendar. It was last week. She forgot to call and cancel.

  Michael had been gone a month now, yet it seemed like years. How had the hollow feeling taken such complete control of her? Gutting her until there was nothing left? No emotions, just a shell of the person she used to be.

  When was the last time she had showered? Fed Speckles, her long-haired Dappled Dachshund? Answered her phone or checked her messages? Had a friend come by to check on her?

  She couldn’t say. Couldn’t even say what day of the week it was. By the light filtering in through the drawn curtains, it was at least mid-day. The incessant beeping that suddenly sounded told her it was Wednesday. The garbage truck was negotiating her cul-de-sac. Was her can out? Did she even have any trash to collect?

  Grace burrowed deeper into the covers, trying to block out the sound. Any sound. All sounds.

  Speckles’s whining usurped the beeps, tugging at her heart. Yes, she understood whining. That was all she wanted to do for the past four weeks.

  With a pitiful groan, she threw the covers back and was greeted by happy yips and a wet tongue on her cheek. Fresh tears rolled down her face at the pure joy that danced in the form of a little weiner dog. Doe-brown eyes shined and the little mouth looked like it smiled between licks. The tail swishing wildly announced her happy meter was pegged.

  As more whining occurred—delighted whining now—Speckles danced on the bed until Grace scooped her up in her arms and hugged her tight. She buried her face in the soft, wavy fur, inhaling the remnants of lavender shampoo last used at the doggy spa. That was just last week, when her friend, Laurell, had come by, offering to take care of some things for Grace.

  Last Tuesday.

  It had been eight days since she last saw another human being. Probably another week before that. She was on an extended leave from work, and her job as art teacher at the high school was being covered by a substitute. It was only two weeks into the start of the school year and she hadn’t even stepped foot into her classroom. Met her students for the year. Although she had the summer off, she went in now and then to organize and prepare for the coming year. Now the substitute would benefit from her eagerness and diligence to her job.

  Thank goodness for tenure. And Michael’s pension. And his life insurance.

  Goddammit, I don’t want to use his pension or his life insurance! I want him!

  She wanted his soft kisses good morning, his singing in the shower, his hand-holding during their evening walks. She wanted to make his favorite beef enchiladas, rub his feet after a long week of work, and argue with him over what movie to watch.

  Oh, they never really argued. Their years together were tranquil, harmonious.

  They’d known each other since grade school. Began dating. Were separated for a bit before reconnecting and marrying at the age of twenty. He knew she couldn’t have children due to a severe case of endometriosis at a young age. Michael was fine with that. Said they could consider adoption. But as they both worked their way through college and began their careers—him a lawyer, her an art teacher—they were content with their lives. They had an abundance of stamps that filled their passports. And with each move, Grace’s first stop was usually the animal shelter, where she would eagerly volunteer and seek out their next companion.

  Losing her pets over the years had been hard, of course. It was a fact of life. And while she never got used to it, she had a way of dealing with it that limited her grief. She had much love to give the next one while always remembering the love from the previous.

  Losing a family member was altogether different. Both she and Michael had already lost their parents, as both sets had had their children later in life.

  Grace was fifty. Her parents had been eighty-nine and ninety when they passed two years ago. Michael’s weren’t much older themselves when they passed four years earlier. But they had the luxury of growing old together. Of having their loved one by their side for much longer.

  Now Grace’s loved one was gone. In the blink of an eye. And she would never know the feeling of having him by her side another forty years from now.

  Fresh tears gathered as she continued to sit on the bed, her dog becoming anxious in her arms. Finally, she stood and slowly made her way to the kitchen. After setting Speckles down on the floor, she opened the pantry to get her kibble and fill her bowl. She then rinsed her water bowl and refilled it, placing it next to the kibble. Speckles happily munched on her breakfast, occasionally looking up as if to ask, aren’t you going to eat now?

  Grace had no appetite. She wasn’t even sure what groceries she had in the house. Hadn’t Laurell commented on stopping by the store for her last week? She couldn’t remember. Opening the pantry again, she took stock of what was there. She then went to the fridge and did the same.

  Sweet tea, milk, eggs, and cooked sausage greeted her. A package of bread sat next to the butter dish. And various covered dishes lined the shelves.

  Friends and co-workers. Well-wishers who took it upon themselves to see that she wouldn’t go hungry.

  Well, she hadn’t gone hungry. One couldn’t go hungry when they felt no hunger. Grace tr
ied to think when the last time she even ate was. Fog filled her mind. Hazy, unclear.

  She looked to the sink and saw no dirty dishes. She opened the dishwasher and saw it was empty. A glance back at the milk carton told her it had expired yesterday. Closing the door, she walked to her sink and got herself a glass of water. After downing that, she stared out at the back yard and saw the grass needed mowing. No doubt her neighbor, Colin, would volunteer to mow it again. She didn’t even ask last time. He kindly took it upon himself to do the deed.

  And had she thanked him for it? She didn’t think so. Had she called Laurell to thank her? Probably not.

  She looked to the answering machine on the counter and saw there were twelve messages. Staring vacantly out the window, she barely registered the birds pecking at the ground beneath her empty feeders.

  Grace turned and left the kitchen to enter the bathroom. Catching sight of herself in the mirror stopped her from her intended duty. Who was that woman with the vacant green eyes? Where were the dimples that adorned her constantly smiling face? What happened to the shine in her auburn hair that brought her pride because she hadn’t yet spied a gray hair on her head?

  Her face was ashen, her cheeks sunken, her lips bloodless. Her nightshirt hung loosely off her shoulder, her panties barely staying up around her hips.

  How much weight had she lost in the last month? She had some to spare, being pleasantly plump, as Michael liked to say. When was the last time she put on clothes other than to sleep in?

  One month ago. The black shapeless dress and simple cardigan.

  Grace looked down at her feet and saw the chipping polish. She was surprised there was any remaining color on her toes at all. She had treated herself to a pedicure right before she and Michael went away to Lake Chelan. They had a quick get-away a week before his death. Four days in August when the temperatures reached over ninety in Olympia, Washington, but stayed closer to eighty at Chelan.

  She and Michael loved being on the water. They often went out on friends’ boats or took their canoe out to Capitol Lake or onto Budd Inlet. Their travels took them to Hawaii and Mexico. They even took a cruise out of Amsterdam, visiting several European capitals.

  Their next destination was to be Fiji. They talked about it for years, debating on there or the Maldives. In the end, they settled on Fiji, as it was closer to New Zealand. And since they were traveling to the other side of the world, why not go there too? Another dream destination.

  Their trip was to take place over the Christmas holiday. Summertime in that part of the world. Since Grace and Michael had no relatives to celebrate Christmas with here, they were treating themselves to a spectacular holiday vacation.

  The trip had already been booked and paid for. They would leave the week before Christmas and return a few days after New Year’s. Sixteen days of bliss.

  A sob escaped Grace’s mouth. A tear splashed down onto the top of her foot, drawing her attention to the little white daisy painted over the yellow. She always loved the designs the nail tech would so skillfully decorate her toes with. Being an art teacher, she could appreciate the delicacy of the details. A little black gemstone was glued into the center of the petals.

  Grace sobbed harder as she crumpled to the floor, curling herself into a ball on the bathmat. She didn’t feel the cold of the porcelain tub against her back. She didn’t smell the coconut shampoo that Michael loved her using. She didn’t hear the jingle of Speckles’s dog tag on her collar when she dashed down the hall to see to her mistress.

  She was once again consumed with despair. Abandonment.

  Fear.

  How was she to go on without the love of her life by her side?

  Chapter Two

  Grace startled awake to a loud banging. Speckles alternated between howling and barking, running back and forth from the bathroom to the living room. Opening her eyes, Grace realized she was still curled uncomfortably on the bathroom floor. She slowly sat up and held onto the edge of the tub to aid in her standing. A wave of dizziness rocked her, and she thought for sure she’d faint dead away.

  The absurd thought flitted through her mind that if she did, then she’d see Michael again.

  She shook her head at the silliness and made her way to her bedroom, slipping on her robe. As she walked toward the front door, she saw a figure darting back and forth. Then came another bang. Then a voice called out.

  “Grace! It’s Laurell! Are you in there?”

  Grace didn’t bother yelling in return. She went to the door, trying to quiet her dog before she unlocked it and opened up to a frantic Laurell.

  As soon as the door was cracked, her friend pushed her way inside. A frightened look gave way to relief.

  “Oh my God, Grace! I thought the worst.” She hugged Grace fiercely as she continued to talk. “I hadn’t heard from you. You won’t answer your phone. Your neighbors haven’t seen you leave the house.” Laurell released Grace and held her at arm’s length. “And when I knock on the door, Speckles is yipping like crazy.”

  At the mention of her name, the dog danced around their ankles, barking for attention.

  “Yes, yes, I know,” Laurell addressed the dog. “Well, I see that she’s fine now.” Her gazed returned to Grace, almost wincing. “Well, maybe fine is pushing it. Come on, let’s get you looked after.”

  “Why?”

  Laurell halted, giving Grace a curious look. “What do you mean, why? Why not? It looks and smells as if you haven’t showered in days.” She took in the surroundings of the living room, shaking her head. “You’ve got this house all closed up and the air is stale. I bet you even let the milk sour in the fridge. When’s the last time you ate?”

  Grace barely shrugged, not knowing, not caring.

  “Grace Archibald, if I were your mother, I’d probably spank you. Seeing as I’m your friend, I’m going to throw you in the shower and not let you out until you’re scrubbed clean.”

  “I’m fine,” Grace half-heartedly protested as Laurell led her down the hall.

  “You are anything but fine. You’re a mess. And I mean that with all the love in my heart. But that’s going to change. You’re going to shower and dress and come out to lunch with me.”

  As they entered the bathroom, Grace’s vision landed on the scrunched up bathmat where she had her recent meltdown. Laurell’s gaze followed, and then glanced up to see the despair on her friend’s face. She stood right in front of her and held her shoulders. “Grace, you will get through this. That I promise.”

  Grace met her friend’s stare. “How?” she whispered.

  “With plenty of help. Now, let’s get started.” Laurell reached into the tub and turned on the water before pulling the curtain across. She then took it upon herself to remove the robe from Grace and lift off the nightshirt. Grace reluctantly stripped herself of her underwear.

  Laurell pulled aside the curtain and helped Grace step into the tub beneath the shower spray.

  “Take your time and wash. Don’t just stand there. If I have to strip and climb in there to wash you myself, I will.”

  And Grace knew she would, too. Laurell was that kind of friend. Tenacious. Loving. A God-send.

  When she pulled the curtain across again and left the bathroom, Grace stepped beneath the warm water and let it cascade across her aching body, driving away the chill. For a few minutes, she just stood there, allowing herself the peace. She reached for the bottles to hastily wash and condition her hair. Then she soaped up a washcloth and went to work scrubbing her body. It actually felt good. Washing away the grime and sweat, the tears and frustration. She went a step further and shaved her armpits and legs.

  Once rinsed, she shut off the water and flung open the curtain to grab a towel. As she wrapped it around herself, Laurell came to the door and peeked inside.

  “Better?”

  “Yes,” Grace answered softly. Physically, she felt much better. Mentally, she had a ways to go. A long ways to go.

  “Good. I took Speckles out and she
did her business. She’s still outside getting her exercise. It’s a beautiful day. Indian Summer, and all.” The middle of September brought temps still in the eighties, which was rare in Washington State. But it would be enjoyed, because all too soon the rain and cooler days would descend. “Now, I’ve put out some clothes on your bed. Which I stripped and remade. I’ll get that linen washed and put away later.”

  “No!” Grace yelled, startling Laurell. “Not yet.”

  “Grace? Those sheets stink, they need—”

  “They don’t stink! They smell like Michael.”

  Grace saw the pity on her friend’s face and hated it. Hated the thoughts that must be going through her mind. Poor dear. Will she ever get through this?

  “Not yet,” Grace said meekly.

  “Okay. It’s okay,” Laurell said softly. “I’ll fold them and leave them in the laundry room then. You go get dressed. It’ll be all right.”

  Grace only nodded as she stepped past her friend and went to her room. She saw the underwear and a bra on the bed next to a set of capris and a loose blouse. She removed the towel and ran it across her hair before tossing it on the bed. Then she went through the motions of putting on the garments before returning to the bathroom to put on deodorant and lotion.

  When she entered the kitchen, Laurell was letting Speckles inside and refilling her water bowl.

  “I’m sorry for the outburst.”

  Laurell faced her, sympathy still evident. “There’s no need to be sorry. I’m trying to understand your position, and I’m the one who’s sorry if I pushed too far. I only want to help you, Grace.”

  “I know, and I thank you. I, well, I guess I need more time.” She hesitated, not really knowing how to explain to someone who hadn’t lost their spouse. “I…”