REVENGE 4

Lola sat with a cup of coffee, deep in thought. She wondered if her close friends from back then would come to their twenty-fifth class reunion.  Its been so long since we've seen each other, she murmured, and only a few telephone calls over the years. Good Lord, it must be twenty years since we got together.
We can catch up with each others life.  I hope they won't be shocked when I tell them how I make my living, but I'm sure they won't judge me.
Lola called and made her reservation to fly in first class, then booked a room at the hotel in her home town.
She could have stayed with her mom, but she lived in a small apartment and really didn't have room for anyone extra to sleep comfortably. Besides Lola was used to living alone and like her space.
I'll have to call and see if my new initialed luggage is in and pick that up and shop for something new and subdued to wear. But right now I just want to get into my own cozy bed and read and rest.  Later as she was packing, she wrapped a small package inside a slip for safe keeping. On the outside before she covered it up it read, "poison if ingested".
In spite of the hard times Lavern and her family had had, the kids were growing up with good moral values, thanks to their mother's basic beliefs. Her therapy group was going good for her now and she learned how to talk about her problems with courage. She told them about the invitation to the class reunion coming up, and how much she wanted to go.That it would be wonderful to go and see her old friends again, that it had been so long since she had laughed and had a good time. But with all her responsibilities, it was impossible.
Tonight, they had surprised her and had all the arrangements ready. They took her shopping for a great dress, to have her hair cut and shaped, and her nails done. They gave her an airline ticket, a room reservation and a baby sitter to take care of her children.
She was overwhelmed by the generosity of her friends and words escaped her as she tried to say thanks. Then spent the last night at home packing and finally took a long luxurious bath. One of the last things she put in her suitcase was a bottle containing a clear liquid. On the side of it in big bold letters it read, "acid".
Jacob Rierson always read the bulletin board first when he came in to work each day. He felt excitement when he saw a notice posted that said it was time for the kids to start selling girl scout cookies again. There also was a big sheet announcing the twenty fifth year class reunion. He read the list of names of the graduates and recognized three from that year. Pretty blond Lola Lewis, the skinny Randi Mills and Lavern Cruz, the tall one with the long black hair and brown eyes.
For a minute tears came, then a tingle of excitement. He wasn't invited but he would be there. Weeks went by and he was busy as he had to make the old school sparkle for the event.
When he was finally done for the day he went home to get ready to receive his girl scout cookies.  He put on clean clothes as he had new jeans and a plaid shirt for special occasions. He looked pretty much the same as always only older, sadder but now his hair had grown out, but in tufts scattered around his head. He was proud because now he had hair, but he didn't realize that he looker stranger than ever.
Jake looked around the house to make sure it was clean and it was. The carpet was almost white now with only vague reminders of the outlines of the big flowers showing.  After years of scrubbing the floors, walls, ceilings and furniture, everything seemed to blend into one color of faded foggy nothingness erasing the lines of structures and blending one in to another.
Everything is clean, he whispered, so it was ready for company.
Jacob was born to parents of foreign descent and was their only child. He grew up alone and never knew love. His mother was squat in stature, big busted and wore heavy stockings and laced shoes. Metal curlers were in her hair most of the time and when she did comb it out, it was only slightly, so the tight curls lay in rows. She had no education beyond fourth grade and only knew how to cook and clean. His father was tall, straight laced, red faced with no humor and less emotions. And they lived on a small farm in the country where they barely managed to scrape out a living.
                                                                 ***********

REVENGE (3)

Lindy sat at the counter in the kitchen having a cup of coffee, deep in thought wondering if Red and Laverne would come to their twenty-fifth class reunion too. It's been so long since we've seen each other, she murmured. She thought back to the few phone calls they'd exchanged over the years, and, that they had never taken the time to meet up with each other. Wouldn't it be great if they do come and we would have the chance to catch up with each other. We could laugh and giggle about the good times.
Lindy called and made reservation in first class to fly to her home town, and also booked a room at the Grand Hotel for several nights. She could stay with her mother, but she lived in a small apartment and didn't have room for anyone to sleep comfortably as she only had a love-seat and a couple of chairs in her living room. Besides Lindy was used to living alone and liked her own space.
I'll have to see if my new Hennesey luggage is in, and shop for something new and more subdued to wear. But right now I just want to get into my own cozy bed and read and relax.
Later, as she was packing she wrapped a small package inside a sweater for safe keeping.
                                                                          **
Red and her boyfriend Pete were lying on the couch at her house and it had been a perfect evening. They had talked about their thoughts and dreams and their plans for the next few days. Red was in love with Pete, but she knew he did not feel the same way about her. He had admitted that he had always been a loner, sometimes selfish and insenitive but that was who he was, but now he would change. So Red contented herself with the times they had together, and didn't worry about it a future.  When she told him about the class reunion coming up, he encouraged her to go and to enjoy her friends and old times. So she excitedly arranged for time off from work, shopped for new outfits and had her hair reshaped and highlighted. Later as she was packing to go, Pete called her and said he "loved her." Well now, life was wonderful again and full of joy. She hummed a song to herself as she slipped an oblong box in amongst her prettty things and closed her suitcases.
                                                                         

Revenge (2)

There seems to be a lot of really nice people here tonight, LaVerne St.James thought to herslelf as she sat amongst them at her therapy group awhile back.  I wonder though, is everyone as screwed up as me?
And little by little, they were getting to know each other and trust, so as the weeks went by more and more secrets, sad stories and horrors came out into the open. She was sitting by a mirror where she caught a glimpse of herself and saw her grey streaked hair and the lines in her face. She clasped her hands togeher and looked down and saw they were chapped and her nails broken. Her slacks were baggy, and her shoes  were worn and old.  LaVerne was still tired and sickly, but not as bad as she had been, as now her new friends gave her strength and courage.
Years ago, she had met a nice boy in high school and dated him, then gotten pregnant and married him while they were both kids themselves. For a time they were happy being together and watching their baby grow, and much too soon, another came along.
As she walked home after the meeting this evening,she thought back remembering the high hopes she'd had then, after her marriage, of having a nice home and her own new furniture. All the material things that other people had. But many years went by and she had never gotten them. They had moved to a larger city where job possibitlites were greater for her husband to find a good paying job. And more babies came along and the bills began to pile up and things went downhill from there. LaVerne was forced to put her babies with a sitter and go out and find work. And soon she became the sole provider as her husband had began to drink and use drugs.  And she always, blamed heself for screwing up his life, by getting pg and having to get marrried.  As in those days that was what you did.
Years went by and the kids were growing and soon the older ones were big enough to take care of the small ones so LaVerne took more jobs, and sometimes had three, to make ends meet.  Life was still a struggle but it had been a way of life for so long,  Then the older kids began college and left home to make their own lives, and gathering her courage, LaVerne found an attorney that would take her case with nothing down so she could file for divorce. And because she didn't have any money to do this, she agreed to house clean for him and his family once a week. She found it was a total pigpen, but she had promised so she diligently went and scrubbed and cleaned as this was the only way she could be free. 
Whe her husband finally got the papers, he was enraged and gave her a beating, the worst of her life, and that was when a kind person came and got her and brought her to the meeting, and that had saved her life.
Tonight now, she walked into her apartment and hung her sweater in the closet. The two teens had washed the dishes and the house was quiet, so it was peaceful to sit and relax, and read the mail. There was a final notice about the gas bill again, but the check was in the mail so that was okay. Another letter was addressed to her including her maiden name, Laverne Cruz St. James, which surprised her. It looked official and it frightened her for a moment. And when she opened it she found it was an invitation to her twenty five year class reunion. She thought how wonderful it would be to see her old friends again. Maybe she would go, she'd get some pretty clothes and splurge on a make over.
This time she had to go, as she had a good reason to go back!









.

Revenge (1)

Randi Mills or Red, as she had been called by everyone since childhood was sitting in the bathtub shaving her legs and checking her body over. God, she laughed, do we actually get gray hair here too?
She was getting ready for the love of her life to come over. Tonight would be beautiful. We'll drink some wine, smoke some weed, listen to some good sounds and make love. And we'll use my new oil, she remembered as she toweled herself off and spritzed perfume on those special places.
This man had been her reason for living now as he had given her new insights into the meaning of love, and had been her inspiration to pursue a career in singing.  She didn't need the money, but she craved the attention the stage gave her.
The man looked like a golden God to her. Fair skin, freckles and light reddish brown curly hair. Six feet tall, and somewhere around two hundred pounds with a hard body.  Above average in intelligence he claimed, but a damn coward to comitments of any kind like a lasting love or a steady job. He definitely was what she thought a free spirit must be and sometimes wished she could change herself to be as carefree as he was.
Red lived on the North Shore of Duluth in a modest house by the water. She had been married for many years with grown kids and was enjoying an empty nest. Her husband had been an avid deer hunter but several years ago, he had been shot and killed in a accident on one of those hunting trips, and it had left her in a complete state of insecure despair. And it had taken her quite a few years to come to grips with life again.
She pulled on a new pair of slim fitting jeans, a white silk shirt, did her make-up and fluffed her red hair. She hurried downstairs to make sure the house was in order.
Hell, she thought I better get the mail and take care of the bills tomorrow. and not forget again.
There was a pile of flyers, newspapers, bills and also a letter that caught her attention. She saw it was from her home town and wondered who could be writing to her. Opening it, she found it was an invitation to her twenty-fifth year class reunion. My God, she whispered, has it been that long?
This one she wouldn't miss. She had made a promise to herself and she had a mission to fullfill!

Last Revenge

                                                                   Prologue

She sat up on the couch and looked into the kitchen, and saw a bald man on his knees, wearing a plaid shirt and jeans washing the floor. It took her a minute to recognize Jake, and the living room of his house.
"Jake," she asked mystified, "did I fall asleep again?"
"Yes, you did and I laid you on the davenport and put the blanket over you."
She was awake now and realized she might be late for school, so she said goodbye and hurried away.  As she sat in her home room doing her math she glanced down and saw that one of her socks was on inside out.
Funny, she thought, how come I didn't notice it when I got dressed this morning.
Soon the bell rang for recess and she met her friends in the bathroom. And while sitting on the stool, behind the door she quickly changed the sock before they would notice and tease her.
However, while sitting there, she wondered why it hurt so while she peed, then felt a tenderness of her breasts against the fabric of her bra. 
Maybe she thought, this means I'm growing up and all these mysterious things that have been happening is what I should expect.
                                                                   ******

A Final Victory (4)

That was days ago.  Then three weeks went by and Monte still had not heard from Jon.
Guiltily at first, she checked his hotel in Fargo, but he hadn't been there. As time went on, she became more determined. Then found none of the hotels he'd said he stayed at had ever heard of a Jon, or Jonathon Sanders! Finally in desperation she called the Goodyear Company, and, they had no employee by that name.
No one seemed to had ever heard of him!
She gathered the billfold, cards and files together and hurriedly changed clothes.
"Miss Blair, you've found something? Her attorney asked seeing the briefcase when she stepped in his office.
They sat down and the leather chair felt cold as she leaned back and took a halting breath.
"I just can't believe this." Monte's face was pale and her voice shook as she showed him the cards and papers with many different names.
"Miss Blair, you look so tired, why don't you go home and I'll go through this and call you," he said kindly. 
The deed the attorney was holding interested him.  It was for twenty acres just out of the city.
"Miss Blair," he said the next day on the phone, "You need to see the sheriff and file a warrant for this man's arest."  And within a week the man was found and put in jail.
Now, two weeks later they were in court, and Monte sat stonefaced, listening to what they'd discovered.
His real name was Joe Sager. And he was wanted in six states for theft, robbery, and swindle. His crimes always involved women.
"Mr Sager," the stern faced, judge was saying, "I'm sentencing you to prison for twenty years!"
The man's face blanced.
Monte's attorney stood up. "Your Honor," he said, "I have a deed here for some land Mr. Sager owns, that might interest you."  He handed it to the judge and after a few minutes the judge declared.
"Mr Sager, as restition to Miss Blair, I order you to sign this property over to her!"
"My land, no--"  Perspiration ran down Sager's flushed face. The orange coverall harsh in the bright afternoon sunlight that streamed in a window in the courtroom. "But-," he stammered again.
"We've got him now," Monte's attorney whispered, "That land is one of the areas being researched as a possible site for a shopping center."
Joe Sager said pleadingly. "But I inherited it from my dad. This is all I got!"
"Case dismissed!"  The judge ordered, sharply banging his gavel and then it was over.
Monte stood up. "Well, at least I got something, maybe I can sell it for a few thousand dollars," she said to her attorney.
"Listen, that deed was the real thing Miss Blair."
"I don't understand, is it worth something?" Monte asked.
With a grin on his face he said, "now I can tell you.  If that deal happens and that piece of land is chosen for that venture, that shopping center is going to be the second largest in the world. There's one just like it in Canada!"
Too late, she'd found out this man whom she had loved was a fraud. 
And just as he was about to leave the courtroom handcuffed, she jumped to her feet and with all her hurt and anguish blazing in her eyes, she faced him triumphantly and yelled, "Now asshole, how does it feel to have lost your dream!"

Lyn Lacoursiere (circa 1999)

A Final Victory (3)

The kitchen was dark as night as the storm raged on. Early spring rain mixed with snow hit the windows with a deafening clatter.  Monte switched on the lights and worriedly looked outside, then sat down at the table and began to search through everything.  Files and billfold both.
She recognized Jon's handwriting.  There were papers apparently dealing with a court case involving a farm. Although she didn't recognize any of the names.  Another file was about a court case; a Jack Smith and a woman.  The amount, $10.000 dollars stood out in big numbers.  She took a deep breath.
Another file had a map and a paper that had "deed" printed on the top. Then she picked up the billfold.
This must belong to someone else, she thought in relief as she saw a strange name on the drivers license, until she saw the picture of Jon smiling his easy grin. And here the name said Jason Smith!
Oh God, this was unbelieveable!  I don't even know his real name. With a sinking feeling then, she remembered telling him about her inheritance early in their relationship.
Monte sat at the table in her kithen as the storm raged on with both rain and snow. The wind whipped tree branches against the roof of the house. The lights flickered.
She got up from her chair and began pacing around the house, she stopped in her bedroom and looked at the bed where they had spent so much time.
Damn you Jon, or whoever the hell you are!
She stood there, angry and heartbroken. Mascara streaked down her face, and a few cobwebs still stuck in her hair from the basement. Her sobs turned to small whimpers as she began ripping the sheets off her bed and carried them, blankets and pillows into the laundry room and stuffed as much as she could in the washer. She had trusted him, but apparently he had just wanted her money.
"Monte," she remembered his saying, "Let's go and look at this property up north that's for sale."
As a salesman for a tire company, Jon traveled and had been in town again for a few days. They had driven to Detroit Lakes on a sunny day earlier, and it had turned out to be a lovely log cabin nestled in the woods next to a clear blue lake. The trees were aglow with brilliant reds, gold and yellows leaves. Wildflowers and birch trees grew everywhere and Monte had fallen in love with it. The price was $50.000 dollars.
Another weekend came to mind now. They'd had a cozy evening together, and he had brought a   bottle of champagne.
"Monte," she remembered him saying, "I can't get that cabin out of my mind, it would be great if we could split the price and buy it. Maybe we could even call it our honeymoon hideaway," he had added with a mysterious wink.  They had talked about it late into the night.
"It's a good investment, and we could resell it later and make a good profit on it," he had added.
Monte had decided she would use some of her inheritance for her half.  And he promised when they resold he would repay her the ten grand he'd gotten earlier with interest. And right now, he'd get his twenty five thousand out of his year end bonus that was due.
Maybe we'll get married this fall, she daydreamed.
"Jon," she had said that weekend, "I have the money for my half of the price of the cabin." 
"Monte, that's great! I've got alot of vacation to take this summer and we'll have a wonderful time."  He had reached over and  given her a excited hug.
On Monday, she saw the cashiers check was missing from her desk drawer.

A Final Victory (2)

"Monte, this is beautiful!"  Jon Saunders had exclaimed after opening the gaily wrapped birthday present.  He had pranced around the living room showing off the watch she had bought for him  Then he had come home after a week on the road and said sadly, "Someone stole my watch right out of my car.  I had stopped for a sandwich and had left it on the console." 
"Jon," I had asked, "did you have the doors locked?" And looking sheepish he admitted he had forgotten.
Resuming her task downstairs looking through his things, she found the third box was full of more junk.  Finally at the bottom of the fourth one she found a briefcase.  It was brown and old, and the handle was missing.
Monte pushed her hair out of her eyes.  Just then the phone rang upstairs causing her to jump in surprise. 
Maybe its Jon!  She though guiltily, what will I say?  It was raining hard as she ran up the stairs.
"Monte," her friend's voice had come over the crackling line.  "Do you want to get together this afternoon?"
"I can't Rica, I'm sorry.  Listen, I'm right in the middle of something," she said breathlessly, trying to hide the anxiety in her voice.
"Well, what are you doing?"  Rica persisted in her inquisitive way.  They were close friends but Monte had not told her anything about her and Jon's plans.  But now, feeling alone and scared, she blurted out the whole story. 
"You what?  Jesus Monte, you mean you gave Jon ten thousand dollars?" Her friend shrieked.
"Rica I did.  It was three weeks ago."  Monte confessed.  He had a short trip to the Dakotas to take care off and then should have gotten back here but I haven't heard from him since."  Monte was crying now.
"What the hell are you going to do?"  Rica asked.
"I went to see an attorney this morning," she said and wiped her eyes.  "He asked, if Jon had left anything here and right now I'm looking through some boxes he must have forgotten about."
"Oh lord, Monte, you've got to call the police!"
"I guess, I don't know what else to do."
"Monte," Rica had said hesitating.  "Listen, Steve and I were talking about him just last week and I've got to tell you this.  He ran into Jon last week in a restaurant in Chicago." And pausing Rica said, "Monte, he was with a woman!"
Monte's stomach lurched, her heart skipped a beat as she proclaimed, "In Chicago? No, it couldn't have been him! 
"I know, that's what I said too, but Steve saw him! Monte, I know its too late to say anything now, but I've always felt uneasy around Jon.  I'm sorry."
"Rica, I'll call you back later."  And she ran back down the basement stairs.  Her hands flew through the contents of the briefcase.  There were files, papers, reciepts, and letters addressed to different people.  Then something else caught her eye, a black billfold, bulging with cards.  Gathering everything she ran back up the stairs as another clap of thunder shook the small house.


 

A Final Victory (1)

"Miss Blair, do you know anything about this man?" her attorney had asked. The blinds were partially drawn against the bright sunshine. Wisps of pollution drifted up through the open windows from the early morning traffic.  Book shelves lined three walls of his office.
Monte twisted her kleenex. "Apparenty nothing I'm finding out."
"How long had you known him?"
"I met the man a year ago."
"Did he leave anything behind that could help, letters, papers anything?"
She had sat up suddenly.  "Yes he did," she replied, "in my basement!"  And she left then determined and hopeful.
Now back home, she studied the boxes down there with a mixture of feelings. There were four of them stacked on a shelf in a corner.
A rumble of thunder began. Would she find something that could help her?  Her emotions teetered between heartbreak and panic.
Monte Blair was in her forties and lived in Minneapolis.  She had inherited some money when her parents had passed on.  And she had fallen in love with Jon Saunders.  He was a few years younger then  her, and his charm and easy approach to life had fasinated her.  He traveled in his business and lived with her when he was in town, and she excitedly planned special meals and cozy times when they had been together.
Now, he had been gone a long time, to long. Three weeks without a telephone call and she hurt like hell as she stood there in the cold damp basement.
Where is he?  She agonized, as she had lost many hours of sleep worrying. The raw ache of rejection consumed her and she would lie awake at night going over what she might have done, or said that could have brought about his sudden absence and silence.
And an alarm shook her insides as she thought of their business venture.
The four boxes had stood there all this time, undisturbed and out of the way. He had said they contained his deceased mother's belongings and had asked if he could leave them there for safe keeping.
A clap of thunder shook the house and Monte pulled her sweater closer around her shulders. A tinge of guilt swept through her thoughts.  Maybe he's sick and alone somewhere, she thought remorsefully, again trying to find a logical reason for his actions.
However, determined now to find some answers, she reached up for the first box and it landed on the floor with a plop. Small clouds of cement dust flew up in her face and she opened it to find it full of law books.  And, inside of each book the initials J.C was written.  
Who was JC? 
Jon Saunders had said once he had gone to law school, she recalled now, but had to quit for lack of money. Why she wondered now really.
She opened another box and here she found clothes, dirty and wrinkled, tossed in along with bathroom and desk supplies.  Just junk!  None of this was his mothers'.  But why would he leave all this here? Monte questioned. Then the frown on her face softened suddenly at how absent minded the man could be sometimes, even careless about things. She stood up and stretched her back. 
She remembered it had been December and his birthday--

Without my Love

As time goes by, we learn. We learn we can be alone, and it's sometimes good, and sometimes not. We learn to put our hopes on today, our dreams are real, but we gracefully accept. We struggle, we stumble, we grow and we learn, that each new step in this direction can turn. Our days can be sunny, that goodbyes are not final. That love can bring both joy and sorrow, and we endure. So, we search and we find, and nourish our souls, and finally see what life can be- New hope and love for eternity. We learn. Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (1991)

Lyn Miller LaCoursiere and the Lindy Lewis Adventures

A Winter of Resolutions or "Where is that Man?" (a light parody or satire)

The Winter of Resolutions or "Where is that Man?" (a light parody or satire) In my pursuit I worry though, if I find him would I remember how to share? Would I want to share? Knowing myself I’d probably give him a small corner in my closets for his things, with strict orders not to expect to place his trinkets around on my tables and in my cupboards. Then too, I would expect him to have a lot of hobbies and not plan on spending all day on my couch, interfering with the décor. Is there someone who will understand the encumbrances I carry around? Living solos has its advantages: first of all I can cook only if I want. After years of meal planning, if I want to eat out of cartons or bake a casserole. It’s an option I celebrate with glee. If I want to clean, I can every day. If I want to be messy I can live with that and then do a monstrous overhaul when I’m in the mood. Could this man understand that if I get bored with a certain day I just might pile into bed early and hibernate with my books? Would he welcome me back, if on the spur of the moment I packed a bag, got in my car or on a plane and crossed the country? He can’t be old. Has to be in good enough physical health to roguishly pursue a sexual encounter, not just in his mind, but in reality. He has to look dashing in jeans. Shine his shoes. How many social events and classes should I participate in? I’ve thought about getting a job in a men’s store, but do I have enough stamina to wear those high heels again every day? He must be well informed about worldly events. Then again, I’d have to buy and study the newspaper, and study the problems of the world. He should be curious about my thoughts and actions. Not jealous of my endeavors. So why doesn’t he send me a cocktail while I’m sitting alone with a book in a restaurant? A dessert, when I’m in a coffee shop. Why doesn’t he approach me while I’m in a book store, or dressed to the nines pushing a grocery cart? Have I missed something? A signal or some sign I should be wearing or using to send that message that I’m single and looking? But you know if I married again, I’d have to buy an alarm clock, get up early in the mornings to make myself presentable and sexy, and not sit around in my nightgown for hours with my coffee. Probably, even an apron for those hours in the kitchen! Would we have to take separate vacation to reclaim some space? Would it all fulfill the emptiness in my soul? So, where is that man I ask? Well, maybe he feels like I sometimes do, and just sits around making those lists and daydreaming. Lyn Miller Lacoursiere (ca. years ago)

Decisions

My husband had lain in a deep coma for days, and even now many years later, that night is still so vivid. (I had written this around that time but it was too hard to do anything with it. So now years later I'm bravely bringing it out again this time to share. But it still brings tears but I feel this is something we all will have to go through, sooner or later with someone dear to us.) Over the years things had been so great for us as I shopped, cooked and enjoyed the grandchildren. A sight bulge had begun to accumulate around my middle, but that could be expected at this time in life, so it was okay. Painting the house, mowing and trimming in the yard, shoveling snow, changing the oil and filling gas on the cars was done without much notice. We had settled comfortable into middle age, secure in the knowledge that we could look forwrd to retirement in a few years, to relax and travel. But abruptly things changed when my husband got sick. Eight months later, in a hospice, after days of pain and suffering for him, anguished, I'd asked how this illness could go on for so long? I remember the nurse exclaiming, '"they worry about having to leave their loved ones behind, so they hang on! One evening as all the kids were still vigilant in the family room and I sat as his side, I just couldn't bear to see him suffering any more and I made a decision. Bravely, I slipped off my shoes and crawled up on his bed. "Sweetheart, I said gathering him to me, "'It's okay, you just rest now and go to God, the kids and I will be fine." Then within minutes, as I held him close in my arms, he drew his last breath. Over the years, then I thought I had learned to cope gracefully with the twists of fate, In fact, I became quite proud of myself for the independence I had perfected and honed; I had learned to live alone and had survived the sadness, the lonliness,and the demons of the night. I had faced the inevietable quiet day and night without end. I had prowled the house, lost sleep, drove miles aimlessly trying to find a niche to fit into. It was hard work, both emotionally and physicaly, but the solitude forced me to discover who I was, and after strugglling with the issues of self-worth, guilt, selfpreservation and acceptance. I thought I had found I could stand alone, make my own mistakes and forgive myself. Then I made another earth shattering decision, and that was to sell my home. And thinking I'd have months to ease into the transition, I was flabbergasted when it sold the second day it was on the market. Well, suddenly heartsick at what I'd done, a week went by and I'd lain on my couch with a pillow and blanket watching soaps. I said to my friends, "I'm sick with some kind of a bug." My eyes grew swollen, my throat sore and my voice grew hoarse as I cried. I yearned for someone to help me, to say, "yes, this is okay, you made the right decision!" I remembered as a couple how good it was as we faced decisions together, bounced ideas back and forth and the doubts were lessoned with each other's assurances. But now, I was truly on my own. I shed tears again in my lonliness. And each morning waking from a troubled sleep, my decision would hit me again like a fist in my stomach. I'd weathered storms in my home as well, learnign how to be this new person. And it had protected me from the outside elements as well as providing a refuge as I learned how to be comfortable with my oneness. I had decorated my bedroom in lace and frills and learned to sleep in the middle of the bed. But now a stranger would slumber in my room and hang their clothes in my closets, walk on my grass and pick my weeds out of my flower beds. In desperation, I called my attorney and asked him to please get me out of the mess I'd gotten myself into. "My dear," he said, "I'm afraid its too late!" Another sob tore at my throat. I couldn't do this, surely my heart would stop from the pain I had inflicted upon myself. But being single, I'd had some adventures and taken some risks. I'd lived alone up north in the woods by a lake, where I bought and sold antiques and junk. I'd traveled to an island each year and spent weeks by myself by the ocean, and here I was, still living and breathing! But surely, this time I had made a terribly rash decision. A horrible mistake! Well, I guess my loving God figured I needed the time to heal. Then figuring he'd been patient and listened long enough to my whining, he gave me a sudden boost of energy. I got up off the couch and put my pillow and blanket away, and put a smile on my face. At first it felt false, but slowly I began to feel my spirit mend. I remembered the lifestyle I had dreamed of! Well, I got rid of the snow shovel, the rakes and the lawnmower, and I waved goodbye to crab-grass and began to feel a tricke of excitement again. The gradually I began to feel proud of myself that I'd had the courage, and then the strength to weather through another angished decision and to welcome another change in my life. At times it still hurts to not have that built-in support system anymore, but sometimes the choice is not ours to make. I expect there will be many more decisions to make in my life, and I can only hope I will have the courage and the strength again to make a wise one. circa 1995

Today, Tomorrow and Then (page 4)

Sea shells and sun lotion stood on the bedside table. Bewildered, Corey sat alone in her room. **** In the main office of the resort the manager talked to the reservationist. "Sue, how long will Miss Andrews in 206 be staying?" "I'm not sure about her. Miss Eagen, but I think something is wrong!" "Why?" "Its so wierd, we've all gotten to know her since she's been here these two months, but sometimes she acts like we're strangers." "Well I've seen her come and go and she seems fine to me." "I know Miss Eagen, at times. But yesterday, she invited some of us to meet her at the bullfight. But she didn't show up. When I went to her room later to check on her, she didn't remember me." "I'd better go and see her." And after her visit, Miss Eagen checked the records and found Corey's home address and phone number and made a long distance call. **** Corey Andrews was sitting in the resort's restaurant having a leasurely lunch when she heard familiar voices. Looking up she saw her family; Her three son's and her daughter coming in the door. "What a pleasant surprise, but what are you all doing here?" She asked momentarily startled. "Mom, you've been gone so long," Val said and Jeff the youngest, picked a French fry off her plate. The kids bravely covered their worried faces, and another said, "we missed you Mom, so we've come to take you home. For Corey and her kids now, they had today, hopefully tomorrow and then-- -Lyn LaCoursiere

Today, Tomorrow and Then (page 3)

A womans's voice said, "Good morning Miss Andrews, this is you daily nine-0'clock wake-up call." "Thank you, how is the weather?" Cory asked. "Its a lovely day. A balmy eighty five degrees." "Thanks again." She said to the desk clerk. "We hope you're enjoying your stay with us, Miss Andrews." "I'm loving every day, and thank you." Cory Andrews sat up and stretched, then flung the covers off and excitedly jumped out of bed. She showered and dressed in another of her new outfits. Her days flew by, the cool breezes and sunny skies her companions. One evening after several weeks, Cory just didn't feel right. So she decided to have dinner in her room and finish reading the novel she'd bought earlier. She wondered where the time had gone as she sat relaxing, the book lying in her lap. She had really wanted to go sailing on the ocean and also see a bullfight. The phone rang suddenly then and jumping up out of her chair, thinking it must be room service calling about her order, a man's voice exclaimed, "Cory, this is Nick Barry. I'm in the cocktail lounge. How soon will you be here?" "Who?" Cory asked. "Nick, Nick Barry." Cory stood with the phone pressed to her ear, a confused look on her face. "You must have the wrong room," she said politely. "Cory," the man said, "We have a dinner date for tonight." "I'm so sorry,I don't know you," she said hesitatingly. "Well, I see I didn't make a lasting impression on you yesterday on the cruise." "What?" Who was this man and what was he talking about. A cruise? "Sorry," she said again and put the phone down. Shaking her head, she went back and sat with her book and began to read. Now the words made no sense, the story new. Puzzled she turned it over and looked at the cover. Where did I ever pick this up? The book was new to her, she'd never seen it before! She got up and began to pace around the room. And as she did, looking around everything looked new to her. Her pacing slowed and she began to tremble. She eyed the beautifully decorated place warily. Lush carpeting tickled her bare tanned toes. She walked over and touched the flimey drapes and ran her hand over the papered walls. Was this her home? Shopping bags, neatly folded lay on the tables. Used tickets from bullfights and ocean excursions lay on the coffee table.

Today, Tomorrow and Then (page 2)

"How long will you be gone?" Her son had asked as he carried her luggage out to the waiting taxi. "A few weeks, but I don't know for sure honey. I want to be lazy and just ramble." "Okay mom, don't worry about the house, I'll keep it clean and pick up the mail. Man, it's great to be home again for the summer." "Honey," the woman said hugging him tightly and smoothing his ruffled hair,"don't worry about me either. I'll be having a great time! I love you sweetie." Then she stepped into the waiting taxi and blew a kiss to her son as the vehicle backed down the drivway. A wonderful free feeling tingled through her body as she put her dark glasses on, ran her hand over her new hair-do. Her suitcases bulged with new outfits and accessories. The sun was high in the sky and wisps of Ciera perfume filled the back of the taxi as it sped along on the freeway on its way to the airport. Cora Andrews was fifty three years old, divorced for ten years with two boys in college. Her mother Daisy, had lived with them for years and had been there for all of them, with home cooked meals and mouth watering baked goodies. Then she had gotten sick. It had started slowly with everyone thinking she'd slowed down and just become forgetful. But it wasn't so, Daisy had Alziemers! The last few years had been hard for Cora seeing her mother slowly fade into a stranger and then finally die. Now with everyone gone her house had become terribly silent, so quiet at times she'd find herself walking softly and talking to herself in whispers. Daisy had left her daughter Cora a sizable inheritance and she had an idea. And one day she promptly marched out of the stuffy accountants office she had been in for too many years. She bought herself a bottle of champagne and celebrated a decision. First of all, she christened herself Corey instead of Cora. She'd always felt her name was too old fashioned. Then she called for an appointment for a make-over, for a new hair-do and make-up. And to her delight, her brown hair was cut to curl under at her shoulders, glistening now with a rich auburn tint. Now her new make-up brought life to her glowing unlined skin that was so like her mothers. She replaced her glasses with contacts and her blue eyes suddenly appeared larger and brighter then ever. Then armed with catalogs, she studied the new styles. Soon Corey Andrews emerged a new woman. Then she carefully began to make her plans. She was going to travel. She was going to Hilton Head Island, South Carolina just off the Atlantic coast. ********* Corey awoke to the ringng phone and pushing her hair out of her eyes, she reached for the reciever.