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Trinidad Head, CA

By Jennifer Clark

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CHAPTER ONE


Manhattan Beach, California

Annie MacKerricher sat, slumped, in her courtyard’s Adirondack chair, her eyes fixed on the black weave of her designer suit. A dynamic tangerine scarf with bold swirls of turquoise normally accented this outfit. The scarf had been removed, the profusion of colors Annie incorporated into all her designs deemed inappropriate today. Devoid of its striking scarf, the somber ensemble seemed to mock her, its bleakness stealing even her creative identity, while pronouncing her new dark reality.
Widow.
I am a widow.
Such an ugly word. One pronouncing dead-ended dreams.
A title offering no hope, no future, only stating what had been and could never be again.
She had loved Sean, but he was gone.
Stolen from her.
The pencil skirt’s hem rested slightly above her knees and melded into the inky black silk stockings running the length of her legs. The dark stockings ended in demure black heels.
Black on black.
Tasteful. Respectful. Unadorned.
A colorless identity.
And so not me.
Annie raised her eyes and looked out at nothing, shaking her head in denial. This was all so wrong, so unfair. She was only thirty-three—too young to be a widow; Sean was only thirty-four—too young to be dead.
He’d only gone for his morning jog.
Annie’s face cracked at the injustice. Sean had left for a jog, and now, the promises of their tomorrows were gone, their shared dream ended.
A single sob escaped into the yard’s surrounding silence as Annie slipped lower into the chair. She stared into the depth of her lush backyard, seeing no distinct shapes, accepting only the comforting blur of green.
She and Sean, with the help of a fantastic Manhattan Beach landscape designer, had carved a small oasis of beauty into this miniscule space. But now here she sat, sad and colorless, out-of-place amid the green beauty of her own sunny California backyard. No longer was she a wife—that aspect of her life now history. No longer was she half of an upwardly mobile couple—their carefully constructed life together gone. Instead, she’d been assigned the role of a forlorn woman bathed in black, devoid of her identity, stripped of her passion, and unsure of her future.
Annie struggled to comprehend the changes forced upon her, changes she’d had no part in making. Just last week she and Sean had decided to give themselves six months to wrap up some important loose ends in their busy lives, then they’d start trying to have a baby. She had felt such joy as Sean penciled their decision into his planner, finally incorporating their not-as-of-yet-conceived child into the “Master Plan” that dominated their life.
She pulled her arms tightly across her chest in a protective hug. She’d looked forward to becoming a mother. Now, because one man had acted evilly, there would be no baby of theirs.
Sean was gone.
And with him, the life she knew had ended.
Annie stilled and closed her eyes. In that darkness a parade of unwelcome questions invaded: Who am I now? What will I do with my life? Will I have a second chance at love?
If so, would I dare even risk it?
Enough! Annie covered her ears with her hands and pressed, as if to block the errant questions by sheer force. How cruel they were to haunt her now!
Today, she fought just to handle the present; she could not consider the future.
She released her hands from her ears and slowly lowered her arms. Anguish poured into her blood and circulated through her body, the emotional assault leaving her bleeding from invisible wounds no physician could heal. Slowly, she opened her eyes.
Bear, her 105-pound black Lab, lay still on the grass next to her chair. His head rested across one paw, but his alert amber eyes watched her. Sensing her sadness and interpreting her every move, her devoted dog was ready to react.
Bear, Annie thought, was the only thing right in her surroundings.
Behind her, beyond the closed French doors, her home bustled with concerned and caring family and friends: her aging parents; her sister Kate and dear brother-in-law Ole; their two precious children, Ellie and Nick; her kind boss Sadie Sachs; and many others. Inside her home, these wonderful people were making decisions she had no heart for.
How they had so quickly put their own lives on hold and traveled such distances to be here for her was beyond her comprehension. In Sadie’s case, it was an incredible distance—her boss had cut short a long-awaited vacation in France to come be her support.
Without summons, they had come. And, today, on the fifth day since Sean’s death, she recognized how very much she’d needed them. Still needed them.
Annie sighed, and Bear raised his large head in concern. She gave him a weak smile; it was all the reassurance she could muster. He seemed to understand and settled back into his watchful pose.
She was weary. She had shed so many tears during the past five days, resulting in this numbing grief she found so unexpectedly immobilizing. Like a sailboat without wind in its sail, she was stalled with no power to go forward.
Like a sailboat without wind in its sail.
A sad smile tugged at the corners of Annie’s mouth. Sean, with his love for the nautical, would have appreciated the simile. Her mind took flight, and she wondered if Sean knew her thought today, wondered if by some special arrangement his essence had been allowed to linger for a while to comfort the loved one he’d left behind.
Probably not, but the possibility did bring her comfort.
Annie searched her memory and reclaimed the image of Sean’s special smile, the one he’d given just before he’d walked out the front door that last time. He was dressed in his running shorts, and he’d stopped in the open doorway and waved, his lean runner’s physique backlit by the morning sunshine. She had thought him both handsome and virile. She closed her eyes and lost herself in that last, shared moment—until she heard the door behind her open.
It was Kate. She recognized the sound of her sister’s heels striking the flagstone. How strange it was that while her other senses failed to penetrate her grief, her hearing had become painfully acute.
Life was odd.
And today, the living of it difficult.
As the footsteps neared, Annie opened her watery eyes. She cushioned the sting that effort brought by staring again into the green blur of her yard. The footsteps stopped beside her, but she stared straight ahead into the soothing green, clinging to it, afraid to let it go.
“Annie.”
The voice was soft. Kate was being very gentle with her, but even her sister’s tenderness could not normalize this day. Annie dropped her head and stared at the ground.
Kate tenderly placed an arm around Annie as she knelt down beside the chair. She whispered, “It’s time to go.”
Annie’s pained eyes rose to meet her sister’s compassionate ones, and she saw Kate waiting patiently for her response. She rubbed her forehead—pressing hard, running her hand high into the crown of her upswept hair and back down again—the simple effort strangely exhausting. Then Annie nodded, agreeing to leave the sanctum of her manicured backyard.
She rose and smoothed her suit. Bear appeared at her side. Briefly, Annie rested her hand atop his dark head.
Together, they would do this.
A damaged woman and her dog.
She swiped at the dampness on her cheeks and lifted her chin. Annie bravely stepped forward into her new, uncertain world, cognizant of whom she had been, unsure of whom she should become.
But like Scarlett, she’d think about that tomorrow.
Today, it was time to bury her murdered husband.

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