Hi Sixers and friends. I appreciate your comments as I continue with Starting Over. Emily and Patrick marry. She finds he is a complex troubled man letting his past interfere with their future. In this scene Patrick explains himself.
“I want you to know that I’m through looking in the rear view mirror at my past. You miss what’s right out in front of you, within reach. I’m through beating myself up over well-meant intentions gone wrong. Now I promise you, my precious wife,” Pat stopped walking and faced her, “I’ll love you and take care of you always. You accepted me from the beginning at face value for who I am and who I could become. Thank you, Emily, I’ll never let you down.”
Welcome Sixers and friends to another Six Sentence Sunday. Last week I introduced you to Emily Kendrick, a watcher with binoculars and a runner on the beach. This week we move on. Patrick Corwin, a lawyer, is the runner on the beach. After a few days of running with him, Emily invites Patrick to her swim and tennis club party.
Patrick escorted her outside, kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Goodnight, my little sweetheart.” When he breathed against her skin, she felt a tingle she’d missed since her husband died. A glow from the pleasant evening warmed her until she turned into her street and the good mood changed. It was always like that, coming home to an empty dark house. She must remember to leave some lights on. She wondered when grief would stop haunting her the way it showed up unexpected like an uninvited guest.
Welcome sixers to another Survive&Thrive story on this beautiful Sunday as the days dwindle down.
Unaware of binoculars trained on her every move, Emily Kendrick runs fast on the hard-packed sand of St. Augustine Beach. Alone on this early morning, tears spill down her tanned face. Leaping over one hurdle and another, she stumbles and falls. . .and doesn’t get up. A lone runner reaches Emily’s side. Binoculars slam into the widow’s walk perch.
Ah September with the leaves about to turn golden and crimson. Another Six Sentence Sunday finds widow Carly Evans involved with Chicago’s most eligible bachelor. After months of putting him off, she waits for him in her new home at the edge of Lake Michigan. Rain pounds against the ceiling to floor windows. Dinner grows cold; candles burn down. She calls and calls with no answer to the always prompt Martin Ambrose. Carly closes her eyes and summons her lost beloved husband.
Night descended as Lake Michigan roared against the boulders in a sudden storm. No lamp was lit yet a shimmer of light surrounded me. My eyes opened to what appeared to be a cloak of gold, purple, white and shimmering silver slipped around me, caressing my skin and this time the contact was different. Slow with purpose, each caress communicated thoughts from my beloved and listening, I understood his meaning.
Now the rhythm changed, pressed close bringing familiar heat, sensual tingles in the dark private places of my body; arms, legs, neck, shoulders, breasts, everywhere, over and over again until I burned, yes, burned with desire. And when I reached for ecstasy, the cloak wrapped tighter until I burst open, calling Bob’s name.