Untitled

In A Father's Journal

         Penelope stood looking out over the horizon. The sinking sun peered through the treetops as she dreaded for the night to fall. Tonight would be the first night she would be without her father. How could her mind be put to ease knowing that she had left so many things unsaid?


         Through the years her father had given her unconditional support and love. He was her rock. There was never a time he judged her or made her feel guilty for any decisions she had made.


         Falling to her knees she prayed for her father’s soul, she prayed for closure.


“Father, please forgive me for anything I have done to disappoint you. I was not able to explain how much you meant to me while you were here. I never understood just how much I needed you or how much you impacted my life. Who is going to listen and guide me through life,” the continuous tears fell down her cheeks.


         Her arms spread over top her father’s grave with the memories of the past lingering through her head. Just last summer they had planned to travel and spend time together, they planned to get reacquainted. It had been a long time since they were able to spend some quality time together. There were always holidays and phone calls, but their work schedules conflicted with one another.


         Pain stung her heart with the thoughts of their future hopes and plans, hopes and plans that were now perished. Her father would never walk her down the aisle or hold her first child. More importantly, she would never be able to tell him that she loved him again.


         She headed back for the house now that the sky darkened. The house seemed so empty, so alone. On the nightstand there was a journal and inside spoke of many memories and dreams her father had. A lump began to grow in her throat as she read the last entry her father would ever write.


March 4, 1995

Today was rather an important day. I spoke to Penny about plans for this summer. We have both decided to travel. I would look forward to this, but something inside me says I might not make it. I would not dare tell my darling Penny, it would destroy her if she thought I was thinking this way. I do not think she is aware that I understand just how much she adores me. Sometimes we do not need to say certain things because our actions speak for us. Not a day has gone by that Penny has not shown me where I lie within her heart. I am thankful to have a daughter that loves me completely.


         Penelope closed the book and rested her head on her father’s pillow. She cried because she knew she was loved. She smiled because she knew her father understood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Morning After

         At 5 am Penelope awoke to the sound of a buzzing alarm. A few stretches and yawns later, she rose out of bed to make some coffee. As the coffee brewed the aroma of many childhood mornings traveled through her mind. She was not quite ready to return to work, but her father had always instilled the importance of being responsible. There were deadlines to meet and clients to see.


         After a quick cup and a shower, she made her way to work. Though the traffic was not bad, she was driving an hour longer that she would normally. She wondered how she was going to get through the day without falling to pieces.


         At 8:30 she approached the company’s sign, which read Whittaker and Associates. The the rain drizzled down she scurried into the office building.


         “Morning Miss Parker,” the security guard waved his hand welcoming her back.


         “Good Morning Joe,” Penelope forced out a smile.


         Entering her flower filled office she let out a sigh, “ What am I supposed to do with all this? I just don’t get it.”


         It seemed strange to her that people were sending in sympathy bouquets as she moved the flowers to find her desk. A slight tap at the door made her hazel eyes look to the door. There stood a close friend of hers, Christopher Marriott.


         They had known each other for fifteen years and he knew her like an open book. He had seen her go through many things, but never the death of someone she loved. His concern for her was apparent.


         His deep voice somehow made her feel fragile, “ How are you holding up Penelope? I tried calling you, but you did not answer the phone.”


         “I just don’t know what to do with myself Christopher, I feel empty and lost. I don’t know whether I am coming or going,” her hands pulled her hair off her face as he moved closer to embrace her for a hug.


         “I am going to honest here, I cannot say I know exactly what to do. I do know that you will get through this, and I will be there to see that you do. You are a strong woman and your father would want you to remember him in a way that made you smile,” his breath caressed the side of her neck.


         Penelope did not want to let him go. It felt wonderful to have him in her arms, something that she never thought of before. Her father had wanted them together ever since they were teenagers. He had been like a brother to her over the years so it never crossed her mind. Maybe it was the fact she felt alone, or maybe it was that things were becoming clearer because she now realized how quickly life moved. Whatever the case was she felt something she had never felt before standing there in his arms.


         The day seemed to drag out for an eternity. Penelope had seen client after client, but nothing seemed to make any sense. She had several court dates coming up and yet she could not bring herself to pay attention. At this point she didn’t seem to care if she lost or won anymore. Her father was so proud of her for never losing a case, which was probably part of the reason she strived to win. It was never about the money, it was about doing what was right and pleasing her father.


         Christopher had stopped by her office on his way out, a routine since they started working at the same firm.


         “Are you almost ready,” his six-foot two frame leaned in the doorway with his chestnut hair seeming to be perfect in every place.


         “Look at all these files Christopher. Seriously, you do not have to wait for me. I don’t want to keep you,” she let out a sigh as her fragile hands tried to tidy up the papers.


         “Well, I know that you don’t and you know perfectly well that I am only waiting because I want you,” he caught himself in embarrassment and quickly changed his comment, “I meant to say I want to.”


         Penelope’s mouth parted to say something back, but all she could do was smirk at his statement. A few weeks ago she would have joked with him in a flirtatious manner, she would have thought nothing of it. She could feel the blushing rising from within her. Truth be told, something was changing inside of her that made her want Christopher.


         As they headed for their cars Penelope was thinking about her long drive ahead.


         “It is getting late and we are due back here in twelve hours. Are you going back to your father’s tonight,” he asked in concern.


         She nodded looking down to the thought she was going to be alone once again for the night.


         Christopher interrupted her thoughts, “Listen, what do you say we go back to my place order in some food and get some rest. I do not want you driving all the way back there, besides I could use some company. I know you already have clothes in you car from the dry cleaners so don’t even try to use an excuse.”


         She did not know if it was pity or if it was the fact he wanted her company. It really did not matter though she was thankful for his offer. There were many times the two of them spent nights together working on cases together.


         Grabbing his arm, she looked at him with gratitude, “ Thank you Christopher, thank you for being there.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feelings Found

         It was nearly midnight when they reached Christopher’s house. He took the liberty of ordering in some Chinese food. As they nibbled on lo mien the conversation was quiet. For some reason he sensed she was not in a talkative mood. He began to clear the table and start the dishes.


         Penelope leafed through some documents trying to make the day seem coherent.


         “Do you know that Marion Thomas is being accused of infidelity and she expects to receive alimony? I mean, there is actually evidence and she still is going after her husband saying he did not provide for her. It doesn’t make any sense; Mr. Thomas has receipts containing all her luxurious belongings," Penelope shook her head in pure disgust.


         “Unfortunately, I think we both have heard of more disturbing things. It is all this bullshit in the world today. It seems divorce and infidelity has become the norm. I am sickened by it. All I can say is thank God you are representing Mr. Thomas. May you show Ms. Marion what she deserves,” he raised his wine glass to toast.


         “No doubt that I would rather eat with swine then to defend her,” Penelope led herself toward the bathroom.


         After taking a hot shower, she dressed in a pair of Christopher’s pajamas. Whenever she spent nights there he left a pair out for her. They both laughed at the fact it was the only chance she had the opportunity to wear them.


         Making her way to the sectional, she found Christopher setting up a pillow and blanket for her. She paused watching him tucking in the edges under each cushion.


         “You always did take care of me. I suppose that is why my father adored you so much. You had the best intentions for me and he knew that,” her eyes locked into his.


         Christopher’s arms embraced her waist pulling her close, “I knew that man had impeccable taste.”


         The room grew silent as she could feel his heat beating against hers. She felt secure in his hold and lost in his gleaming eyes.


         “I know this is not the right time, it seems like there never was a right time to talk about this, but I love you so much. I have loved you for a very long time now,” his scent drew her closer.


         Leaning in she felt her lips brush against his. It seemed so natural, so right. He let his hands trace the line of her neck as he slowly caressed her lips. The rise from her stomach was unlike anything she had experienced before. She longed for the moment to never end. She cuffed her hands around his collar and pulled him down to the couch. She placed her cheek against his chest as he held her throughout the night.


         As the sun crept in through the window Penelope’s eyes slowly opened and she noticed Christopher was not lying beside her. She lifted herself off the couch and headed toward the kitchen. On the counter there was a letter,


         Penelope,
I woke up this morning holding you in my arms. You looked so sweet so I did not want to wake you. I decided to head to the office early to work. Your suit is in my closet. I am not even out the door yet and I miss you already. Does that make any sense?

Love,
Christopher

         As Penelope readied herself for work all of Christopher’s words from last night and the letter made her heart flutter. She could not believe how anxious she felt to see him. There was just something special about his crooked smile and his indescribable laugh that stuck in her mind.


         She remembered a conversation she had with her father about Christopher.


         “Penny, you know he adores you. He would take good care of you. This is the kind of man women who want to marry. He has a wonderful job, he is handsome, and he is inlove with you. It is clear as day that you are the only one for him. He truly thinks the sun sets and rises with you,” the memory was strong, almost as if he was standing right next to her.


         There had never been a man in her life, which she thought of as Mr. Right. Sure she had relationships, but she had never had someone she would consider spending the rest of her life with. Could Christopher be the one? Was her father’s death the breaking point of reality, which would make her realize that?


         Entering her office she could see the stacks of new files she would struggle out the day with. One by one she briefed through them deciding which cases she would possibly take and which ones she would refuse.


         By noon Christopher had stopped by her office asking her if she would like to go to lunch. Grabbing her coat they went off to Karen’s Coffee House just across the street. Sipping on cappuccino they spoke the first time since last night’s kiss.


         “You seem awfully shy to talk about last night and the letter I left,” his eyes looked up from the table.


         “No, I just don’t know what to say. These feelings I am having are ones that I never had before. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted you to hold me. Christopher, if you are trying to ask if I regret it, then the answer is no,” she blushed watching Christopher’s lips turn into a smile.


         “ Would you mind terribly if you stayed with me at my father’s this weekend? I know it isn’t quite what you were expecting, but I think I need you there,” she reached for his hands.


         “No, I think I would love that. After work we will go back to my house and grab a few things and then we will be on our way,” he replied while caressing her hands.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Returning Home

         When the workday was finally completed they collected some of Christopher’s belongings. The hour and a half drive seemed to move by fast as they recollected about both good and bad childhood memories.


         “Remember in eighth grade when you first found out I had a crush on you? But you were such a tomboy then, you wanted to climb trees and play baseball with me,” he laughed with his arms swinging as if he were hitting a baseball.


         "I do. My father swore I should have been a boy. He did not push me to wear dresses like my mother tried though. He let me be who I wanted to be,” she smiled.


         “I was not going to bring this up, but have you heard from Jeanie, your mother," his voice seemed reluctant to ask.


         “Not since our junior year at Jostling. I have not tried to reach her though. I don’t see a need, she did not keep in touch with us,” a single tear fell down her cheek as she spoke of something she had not spoke of in years.


         “I know she hasn’t been there and I know that she left with inexcusable reasoning, but she should know. I mean about your father,” Christopher quickly stopped in his speech not wanting to make Penelope feel uncomfortable.


         “Yes, I know how you feel about this, and you also know where I stand with this. Jeanie ruined my father and nearly destroyed me. And it was for what? She needed to feel free, feel free from what? My father was good to her, too good for her,” she whispered in resentment and anger.


         Pulling into the driveway, the darkened house looked so alone. For some reason it felt like years since she had last been there. Christopher felt as if though nothing had changed since they were children as he walked toward the door.


         She unlocked the door and turned on the foyer light. Her eyes wandered around as her heart wished to see her father approach her. She envisioned coming to her with open arms. Christopher pulled her close to his chest and buried his face in her auburn hair. It was too much for her to bear alone. She was grateful to have him there.


         “It is okay. I am here now to help you through this,” his tone sounded shaky. He hated to see her torn apart like this. When she was hurting, he was hurting.


         Christopher’s index finger lifted up Penelope’s chin. He dried her tears with his hands and gently kissed her lips. They stood there for a moment interlocked in each other’s arms breathing in the memories.


         She led him into the living room, a room with half packed boxes. He could tell by looking around the room how hard this was for her.


         “Sorry about the mess. It’s just that once these boxes are closed and taped,” she paused. “Well, it is final, closing a chapter,” she dropped her head toward the
floor.


         “We will do this together. Try not to think of it as ending a part of your life, think of it as a new one for your father,” he spoke trying to comfort her.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Discovered Truths

         Later that night Penelope and Christopher reminisced over old photographs and mint tea. This was certainly something her father would have loved to do. As the pages turned sixteen seemed like just yesterday.


         “Oh wow, this picture was taken right after my father took us on our first fishing trip. We must have been about ten years old here. Look at those rosy red cheeks,” she chuckled pointing a young Christopher out in the picture.


         “But if my memory serves me right, I was the one that caught the biggest fish,” Christopher beamed with victory.


         Her eyes widened,” I must admit that I am quite amazed you remember that day as well as you seem to.”


         “Never a need to be amazed, I already told you that you have been a huge part of my life from the very beginning of our friendship,” he reached for her hand and kissed it softly.


         She could not help but to glow at his words. They sent a warm feeling straight to her heart. It was so hard for her to believe that after all this time she was now feeling this way. Why didn’t she see him this way before?


         After they were through looking at all the piles of pictures they stumbled across and old box. She lift they lid to peek inside and they were a bunch of unopened letters addressed to her from a Mrs. Jeanie Parker. Her trembling hand hardly made the writing legible.


         “ I can’t, I just can’t,” she cried passing the letter to Christopher.


         He took a deep breath and cleared his throat.


         Dear Penny,
I have been writing these letters for quite some time now in hopes of a reply. I know that you may not wish to hear from me, but I am not giving up. Everyday I try to picture what you look like, what you have become, or if you have found true love. I miss you so much and only wish I could tell you that to your face. I know I have not always been there to wipe your tears or bandage your cuts, but know that I have had you in my heart and thoughts from the minute I had to leave you and your father. Please write to me sometime. Let me know how you are. I am truly sorry that it had to be this way.

Love always,
Mom

         Christopher looked at Penelope’s reddened cheeks and bloodshot eyes. For the first time he was speechless, he did not know how to make it better.


         “Why? I cannot understand why he would keep these letters from me. Look at all these letters. All this time I was led to believe that she wanted nothing to do with me. Christopher, why would he do this,” she questioned in confusion.


         “I am not sure. I really do not know the answer to that,” he cradled her in his arms hoping to find the answers.


         They did not speak for the rest of the night. Neither one of them quite knew what to say. She put her head in his lap as he brushed her hair with his hands until she fell asleep.


         The next morning Penelope awoke to the scent of warm maple syrup and freshly brewed coffee. She entered the kitchen to see Christopher making pancakes. The center of the table held a terracotta vase filled with honeysuckle and two blossomed roses.


         “Good morning beautiful. How did you sleep,” Christopher asked in his worried voice.


         “Actually, I slept quite well considering,” she spoke as she stretched her arms over her head.


         “ I found something, but I am not sure if you would be interested,” he handed her a piece of paper which contained a seven digit number along with the name Jeanie.


         "My mother’s phone number,” she questioned.


         “Well, I am not sure if this is current, but I found it wedged in between two letters from that box,” he pointed to the box they had come across the night before.


         “I do not know what to do. Seems like I have been saying that often these past few weeks,” she sighed.


         “For so many years I knew my mother had abandoned us, but never knew why. I thought she never tried to contact me. I really believed she did not give a damn. Part of me is hung up feeling the way I always have, I suppose because I have become accustomed to it. Then there is this other part that needs to hear the truth, whatever that may be,” Penelope rested her forehead in her hands.


         Christopher brought two cups of piping hot coffee to the table,” I think you deserve to know the truth. You owe it to yourself to find out what really happened. I know you all to well, if you don’t address this it will tear you apart.”


         Deep inside she knew he was right. Too many times in her past had he been right on the money about her. She knew she had to call, or write, or see her, but where to start was left unknown.


         Over breakfast they both agreed that before any decisions were made on how to converse with her mother she needed to read all the past letters. Somewhere in those letters she may find something that would shed light on the truth.


         They returned to the living room after eating and began reading the letters, one by one. Each letter claimed love and remorse for not being in her daughter’s life. There was nothing stating as to why she left or how her relationship ended with her father.


         Penelope had always heard rumors around town, which said her mother was running around or that her mother had took off in the middle of the night to start her life new. Her father had always told her that the only thing he knew was that she left because she was unhappy. When he said she stopped loving them, Penelope assumed it to be true. She had never questioned if her father was honest with her because he never gave her any reason to, until now. Truth was Penelope really had no idea why she left.


         “What are you thinking about,” Christopher asked as he noticed her staring off into space.


         “All these letters state that my mother loved and cared for me all this time, but nothing about why she disappeared from our lives. There has to be a justifiable reason as to why my father hid this, right? I mean this does not make any sense,” she replied.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Broken Trusts

         Penelope tried to remember the day her mother left. There was not a goodbye. There was only an empty house. Her father was sitting in his favorite chair holding her picture. The only thing she could remember him saying was that she had left. There were tears and hugs, but not any real conversation. That was the first time she ever saw her father cry, which could have been why there weren’t any questions from her at the time.


         “You were telling me about a journal awhile back. You father kept a journal, right? Maybe something in there,” Christopher spoke.


         “Yes, there could be, but this is getting too frustrating,” she replied in confusion.


         Reluctantly, she got up from the living room floor and went into her father’s bedroom to retrieve the journal.


         “Lets start at the beginning,” she sighed.


         January 22, 1989

         Well, I am not sure how often I will write in this, but in these lonely days I think it will be comforting in some way. Penny is away at school. She's doing very well. Her grades are wonderful and her ambition is such a driving force. I could not be prouder of my little girl. She is supposed to come visit me during spring break so I am looking forward to that.


On another note Jeanie called today. When I heard her voice I immediately hung up the phone. She did not try to call back this time. Maybe it will stop now. When Penny was younger she wanted a phone so badly for her room. I could not tell her why she was not really allowed to have one. She would not understand. She thinks that Jeanie has forgotten about us and I think that is the best thing for her. I do not want for her to dwell over the lost time, even though she is a young adult now. If she knew Jeanie had called or wrote all this time it would break her heart knowing I did not tell her the entire truth. It is so difficult not telling her, but I could never look in her eyes knowing I disappointed her. I don’t even think she ever doubted anything I have said about this whole situation, which makes me feel worse. Penny trusts me so much. How could I live with myself if I broke that bond? One thing about making a decision like this is that you can never turn back without hurting someone. I know I am right about this. I have to be right about this.


         Penelope looked at Christopher with tears streaming down her face,” What in the hell is this all about? I mean this confirms the fact he hid the truth, but once again does not tell me why, other than the fact he was somehow protecting me.”


         “We need to find out what he thought he was protecting you from. What could have happened that made him hide this. Your father was a honorable man. There had to be a decent reason for this,” he responded.


         “Or he could have not been who I assumed he was. He could be a liar. He always said I was a strong woman Christopher. Why in the world would he think I couldn’t handle the truth,” she cried from the fact that was the first time she ever said anything degrading about her father.


         Christopher cupped her cheeks and pulled her face towards his.


          “You are a strong woman and you can handle anything we come across. The truth will be known,” he whispered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Unanswered Questions

         Reading through each entry only left questions unanswered. What was the next step? She did not have any aunts or uncles, and both her grandparents had passed away many years ago.


         “It seems like I only have one option left. We are hitting dead ends every which way. I am going to have to get in touch with my mother somehow,” Penelope’s voice sounded scared and nervous.


         “What are you planning to do? Are you going to write or call? Perhaps you were planning to meet her in person,” Christopher raised his eyebrows in curiosity.

         “If I write, I will have to wait for a reply. I may have questions about the letter she sends so that kind of defeats the purpose. I am not sure if calling will satisfy me. I mean how will I know she is being honest? Then again who is to say I will know that from meeting her either,” Penelope closed her father’s journal and placed it on top of his cherry wood nightstand.


         “The return address on all the envelopes my mother sent had the same address. It said she lived in Sweetwater, which is about a five-hour drive from here. Do you think it would be a dumb move to show up there unannounced,” she asked.


         “If I were you, I would most likely call first asking for an appropriate time to meet her. Is there a reason you would rather not call,” he took her hands into his.


         “Calling her would just stir up talk of how my life is. Chances are she would want to know all about my childhood and everything current. Christopher, before I can play catch up with my mother, I need to know why she really felt. I have to find out why my father was so determined to keep us separated, and I think she can tell me that. After those questions are answered, and only then can I maybe salvage our relationship,” she explained hoping that he would understand.


         “Okay, we will leave first thing in the morning,” his lips kissed her forehead as he stood up and then headed toward the kitchen.


         “We? What about work,” she was a bit baffled by his last comment as she followed in his footsteps.


         “Well, I heard Mr. Whittaker saying how you needed to take some time off because you returned to work so quickly after your father had passed. You did not take any time off, so I knew about your leave. I was going to tell you this, but did not know when the right time was,” he turned to face her and paused with a smile.


         “ I am still not sure I fully understand,” Penelope looked at him in slight confusion.


         “When I heard you were taking leave, I took my vacation so I could be with you,” Christopher’s chuckle reminded her of the young schoolboy he once was.


         Penelope threw her arms around him and kissed his lips passionately. She was completely moved by his actions. He cared for her so much and all his actions proved that. Her heart raced and stomach filled with butterflies.


         “I love you Christopher Marriott,” she whispered into his ear.


         Her words seemed to take him by surprise. He desired to hear her say those words for such a long time.


         “I love you too,” his eyes watered from happiness and he could not hold back from kissing her.


         Throughout the night their lips became one. They held onto to one another tightly enjoying the romance and intensity. It felt like nothing could destroy the feelings they had for each other.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Memories at Max's

         It was getting dark outside and they had not eaten since breakfast.


         “Do you want to get something to eat,” Christopher’s stomach growled in hunger as he spoke.


         “Yes, I am getting quite hungry. What did you have in mind,” she asked.


         “This may sound funny, but do you remember the diner we used to spend the late nights gabbing away,” he questioned with a grin.


         “You mean Max’s’? Gosh, I have not been there in ages. I think the last time I was there was with you,” Penelope laughed.


         “Yes, that is it! We should go there,” Christopher’s voice sounded excited to revisit.


         They grabbed the coats and headed to the car. Max’s always had the best home cooked meals and coffee.


         They approached the pink and blue neon sign, which read Max’s Diner, Open 24 Hours. Memories filled their minds with the countless conversations and time they had spent there while they were growing up.


         Entering the diner, they noticed that everything looked the same. A sign directed them to seat themselves. Christopher took Penelope’s hand and led her over to a booth, which was once known as their spot.


         A waitress dressed in a white blouse and black skirt came to the table. She had a checkered apron tied around her thin waist and her hair was neatly tied back off her face. Her hands, which showed years of hard work, placed to menus onto the table.


         “Good evening, my name is Trudy. Can I bring you folks something to drink,” she offered in a raspy but sweet voice.


         “I would love a sweet tea,” Penelope replied.


         “Make that two please,” Christopher winked making Trudy smile.


         Penelope knew Christopher could make anyone feel special. It was like he had some hidden talent that always brought smiles to faces. She adored that about him.


         When Trudy returned she put a glass of tea in front of each of them.


         “Are you ready to order,” Trudy pulled out a pen from her apron’s pocket.



         “Yes, I think so. I would like the prime rib special, cooked medium and a baked potato please,” Christopher placed the straws into each glass.


         “That sounds delicious, but I would like the grilled sea bass with lemon and a baked potato,” Penelope handed both menus to Trudy.


         Christopher looked down in the booth as if he was searching for something.


         “What on earth are you doing,” Penelope could not help but to giggle.


         “Just a second,” he kept looking at the wooden wall.


         “Look at this,” he exclaimed a few moments later. His finger pointed to just below where the table attached to the wall.


         Carved in the wood it read, C.M. and P.P. friends forever 1985.


         “I cannot believe our initials are still there,” Christopher’s eyes lit up.


         “And I cannot believe you remembered,” her cheeks lightly blushed as she smiled.


         “I remember it like it was yesterday. We had just gone to see some horror flick, and you were too scared to go home and go to sleep. We sat at this table talking for hours about future plans and such. That very night, we vowed to be friends for life. And here we are still,” Christopher said proudly.


         Penelope’s eyes gazed at Christopher with adoration. She felt blessed to have such a wonderful man in her life for so many years. She was only sorry it took her so long to realize he was much more than a wonderful friend to her.


         Trudy brought out their dinner. They shared each other’s dinner and talked over coffee for a few hours before going back to the house to get a little sleep.


         In a few hours, they would be traveling to meet Jeanie. She thought about what it was going to like as she tried to sleep. Feelings of nervousness and fear stayed with her throughout the night. She held onto to Christopher throughout the night praying to find out the truth.



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Journey Has Begun

         The alarm sounded off while it was still dark outside. Penelope’s eyes were open as it buzzed at five am. Her eyes were heavy, but she was anxious to get going.


         After they showered, they grabbed their suitcase and a thermos of coffee. Christopher opened the care door for Penelope, and then proceeded to the driver’s side. As he started the ignition, she felt like the journey to truth had begun.


         “Do you have any inkling of how you are going to approach your mother when she opens the door? What you might say to her,” he asked.


         “Not a clue. I was up half the night contemplating what I want to say and exactly how I wish to say certain things. But of course, you know I did not make much progress,” she let out a yawn after speaking.


         “I wonder if she will recognize you,” Christopher cranked up the heat a bit higher.


         “I do not know, but I doubt it. She does not even expect me,” her nerves started to sink in.


         “Maybe I should have called first, now that I have had some think about it,” her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.


         “It will be fine, honey. Don’t worry your pretty little head. Let whatever you say come naturally to you; do not premeditate what you want to say. Now try to rest a bit,” Christopher tried to calm her nerves.


         They had been driving for nearly an hour before Penelope fell asleep. She started to dream. Her hand knocked on a wooden door and a woman answered. Though the woman’s face was blurry her mother’s voice spoke.


         “Penny, Oh my. I have waited for this day to come. I love you.”


         The mother figure through her arms around Penelope as she cried. Penelope tried to speak, but nothing would come out of her mouth. It was like her speech was frozen, but everything else kept moving.


         Then in a blink of an eye, the settings changed. Time was on rewind, but she was still an adult. There she was standing in the middle of her childhood bedroom, everything was the same. The pink curtains swayed from the salty breeze coming in through the window. Her bed neatly made with stuffed animals perched on top of the pastel comforter.


         She could hear voices whispering downstairs, voices of her mother and father speaking. She ran toward the door and entered into the hallway. As she tried to pick up her pace, but there was this force pushing her away from going downstairs. Her heart raced as she tried to break the unknown force.


         The voices disappeared and the light grew dim. She fell to the ground and the force suddenly was no longer there. It sounded like someone was walking toward her. Footsteps were slowly getting closer, one by one. The light was like a single burning candle, she could not see very far from where she was sitting.


         “Who is there,” Penelope cried.


         No one answered her, but the footsteps were getting heavier.


         “Who is it? What do you want,” she yelled.


         Her cold, sweaty hands trembled. She could not stop shivering. Penelope rocked back and forth with her knees snuggled into her chest. The last footstep sounded and before her eyes there stood a man’s body frame, but it was to dark to see his face.


         “ What do you want? Who are you,” she whispered in a panicky tone.


The image only stood there in silence with his arms at his side, he did not move.


         Penelope jolted from her seat almost smashing her head into the dashboard. Christopher’s arm flew across her breaking her from contacting.


         “Are you okay,” he questioned in concern.


         “I don’t know, I had the strangest and most horrible dream,” tears fell from her eyes.


         “What was it about,” he put his hand on her shoulder.


         “It was about my parents, or at least I think. I was not able to see their faces. I don’t know. How long was I asleep,” Penelope wiped her eyes with a tissue.


         “ We will be arriving in Sweetwater in approximately 2 hours,” Christopher replied.


         Christopher continued driving as Penelope thought what her mother would be like. She wondered what color her mother’s hair would be, if her mother aged much, did she still wear the same lily scented lotion. But as hard as she tried she could not remember much of her and her mother together.


         “Christopher, what do you remember about my mother? What is the first thing that comes to mind,” Penelope searched for a recollection.


         “There was this woman that owned that mini market on Mulberry Street, I think her name was Dolores Henderson. She and your mother were discussing some upcoming festival. They were in charge of baking the pies. I remember them exchanging recipes at your house. Your mother seemed uneasy for some reason that day,” Christopher glanced over seeing a frown upon her face.


         It was then he realized she was searching for a memory that dealt with her and Jeanie together.


         “I also remember we had missed the bus one day after school, and they had to call your mom to come pick us up. She showed up in her caddy with the top down. All the way home she was singing that Turtles song, Happy Together. You were so embarrassed because she was urging us to join in,” his voice laughed.


         “I only remember her absence and the hurt from her leaving. I remember bits and pieces of her, but nothing of real substance. Christopher, I feel like I forgot her,” she cried.


         “My memories consist of her being gone or her wanting me to be someone I wasn’t. I know there had to be plenty of happy times, but as hard as I try I can’t remember,” Penelope rested her head back.


         “Maybe you blocked out the good because your father did not talk about her. I mean maybe in some ways he was trying to make you only think of how badly her absence hurt you,” Christopher wanted nothing more than to erase her pain.


         “I believe eventually, it will all come back to you. Something may trigger your memory of her,” he gently patted her leg.


         “But what if it doesn’t. You just named two different situations, and neither one rings a bell,” Penelope applied Vaseline to her lips.


         “Give it some time before you worry. Chances are seeing her again may bring back something, or it may come back to you when you least expect it,” he longed to see her smile again.


         About an hour later they arrived in Sweetwater. They stopped at a local deli to grab a quick bit and find out where Creek Road was located. While they were at the counter they asked the older man next to seated next to them.


         “Creek Road is about four streets down if you make a right out of this parking lot,” the man signaled as if he were turning.


         Penelope turned to Christopher and let out a deep breath. She was less than five minutes away from her mother’s home. He kissed her cheek and embraced her.


         “It will be fine, I promise you,” his hand gently stroked her hair.


         Christopher paid the check and they started out for Creek Road. They slowly came near the road.


         “Please park here Christopher,” her heart raced.


         Christopher pulled into the abandoned parking lot and turned off the car.


         “I think we should walk the rest of the way,” Penelope was shaking.


         “Whatever you think,” he nodded.


         They walked down the street looking for the numbers on the houses. She noticed they were at fifteen and looking for twenty-one. As they passed a house numbered seventeen, she realized the destination was a few steps away.


         Penelope held back the tears when she saw a mailbox with the twenty-one painted on it. She grabbed Christopher’s hand to stop him from moving.


         The house was a single story white rancher with a clean yard. Wind chimes lingered in the air as they entered the yard.


         “I have come this far, I can do this,” Penelope convinced herself.


         Penelope lightly tapped on the screen door. A moment later a slender woman answered. Her strawberry blonde hair wisped away from her hazel eyes and fair skinned face.