Page 1 of Other Side Of Never
1
Peace
Istretchedawakeandlookedaround my temporary home.My fourth in the past year.
With its wide bay window, complete with a cushioned window seat, looking out onto the street below, it was, perhaps, my favourite.
I’d added a few splashes of color to its neutral gray décor since I moved in, and having my things around me made me feel more like myself than I had in a long time.
Here in Sage Ridge, I found friends and community beginning with Harley and Noelle before branching out quickly to include Shae and finally, sweet Wren.
A tease of spun sugar and vanilla wafted up through the vents from Mary Lou’s below.My Aunt Anita, God bless her, was already hard at work in her sweet shop.
Providing an old-fashioned candy counter, freshly baked cookies, bear paws dripping with every kind of topping you can imagine, real dairy ice cream, and her famous waffle cones to the good people of Sage Ridge, Mary Lou’s manufactured happiness.
It had certainly worked its magic on me.
When I first landed in Sage Ridge, I stayed with my aunt in her house in the neighborhood of Little River.When it became apparent I was none too ready to leave, I began to look for my own place.She offered me this apartment: free of charge no matter how I protested.It wasn’t until she pulled the family card that I relented.
In exchange, I added to her sweets inventory as often as she’d allow.Which wasn’t often.She was none too keen to give her kitchen over to anybody else, even family.
I rolled over in my comfortable bed and tucked my hands under my cheek.Facing the open window, I watched the treetops gently sweep across the sky, their leaves dappled with sunlight.A summer breeze lifted the sheers and caressed my face.I closed my eyes at its gentle touch and breathed deep.
Despite its location in the heart of the tiny downtown, here in this tiny apartment, I had space to breathe.
In a few weeks, when the heat of midsummer rolled over Sage Ridge, I’d have to keep that baby closed.But for now, I cranked my window open as often as I could, even getting up in the wee hours of the morning to open it before crawling back into bed.
Ever since I left, I couldn’t stand to be caged.
Leaving my heart and most everything I valued behind was the most difficult and the best thing I could have done.Not that I had much choice.
I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, breathing through the pain as I always did when remembering poked too sharply at the abscess in my heart.
It haunted my periphery.A shadow dance of grief and light, joy and pain.
Those first few weeks after he kicked me out, I lived at a motel.Located on a busy through street that hosted a series of bars, a few businesses, and the requisite strip joint, the best my rented room could boast was bug-free bedding and a surprisingly decent coffee maker.
Half in shock and still fully under his spell, I’d curled up into a proverbial ball to wait for the storm to blow over and his call to come home.
The motel was a far cry from the luxury upscale condo we lived in when we stayed in the city, never mind the sprawling Tudor style monstrosity he owned in the suburbs.The constant drone of traffic and the more-than-occasionally raised voices of my neighbors rattled me, especially in those first days, but after a few weeks I realized that low-budget motel provided something he never did.
Peace.
The hand he’d held for years around my throat had tightened so slowly, I didn’t know I was suffocating until he cast me aside.
Even then, I held my breath.
Three sharp knocks on the ceiling below shook me from the past and split my face into a happy grin.
My aunt’s voice reached me.“Get up, lazybones!If you want to take over the world, you’ve got to get out of bed!”
Throwing off the bad memories along with my covers, I crossed to the window and watched the activity on the street until the echo in my hollow heart subsided.I showered and dressed quickly then reluctantly closed the window before heading down the narrow, winding stairs to the store.
Ignoring the door leading to the street, I turned right and swung open the door leading to Mary Lou’s kitchen.
“Good morning,” I called.
“Morning?”she snorted.“It’s practically afternoon!”
