Emma smiles at me. She fixes my veil one last time, making sure it is still on straight, then smooths the hair curling gently around my shoulders. She says something about weddings, and I smile automatically. My mind isn't on her. It's on the person waiting for me at the end of the stone pathway. Dean is waiting for me. She fusses with Jack's tie, making sure that it, too, is on straight. He gives her a warm smile and shoos her out of the house. I can hear her heels clicking on the steps as she hurries to the garden to tell them we're ready to begin. I feel like I'm going to float away I'm so happy. I wonder how it is possible for any one person to brim with so much joy to the point of overflowing, yet here I am, barely able to contain myself. Dean is waiting for me. Jack takes my hand, placing it in the crook of his arm as we start to walk out the main doors. I remember my flowers at the last moment and I pull myself free to grab them. I grasp them tightly as I give my hand back t
Present Day The cursor blinked steadily on the laptop screen in front of me, but I barely saw the dark pixels repeatedly dimming against the stark whiteness. I couldn't focus on writing the memo Jack requested, or even the website I had up in the background. My thoughts weren't even organized or even actual thoughts; I was just letting nothingness sit in my brain. The blank thoughts were a pleasant respite from the emotions running through the house. A hand settling on my shoulder roused me from my silent thoughts. Jack Saunders, my boss and friend, gave me a small smile. "How's that memo coming, Rachel?" he asked. I sighed. "It's not. What did the doctor say?" Jack's face fell a little. He sat down at the kitchen table next to me and played with the edge of the big wooden table. I could have worked anywhere in the Saunders' mansion, but I preferred the kitchen's warmth and sunny feeling in the mornings. The big country-style table was comfortable and I could hear the sounds of t
June 5th, 1990 An old man walked by wearing a Speedo swimsuit that left nothing to the imagination. You've got guts, dude, I thought, and then snickered in my head. Yup. You’ve got guts- and that's the problem! The man continued to strut up the beach, but my eyes didn't follow him. I was pretending to read a book, laying on my stomach facing the ocean, but really I was just people watching. I had read the same paragraph four times and hadn't turned the page yet. The tourists were just too interesting. Granted, I was a tourist too, but that wasn't going to stop me from people watching. My roommate, Jenny, nudged my beach chair with her foot, tipping her head toward the man who had just walked by. I peeked over the top of my Ray Ban sunglasses just in time to see him scratch himself. "Thanks, Jenny," I said, sticking my tongue out at her. She gave me a innocent smile and made sure the long brown hair in her side ponytail was still tight against her head. "No problem, Rachel. I thoug
June 5th, 1990- Evening That night, in the tiny beach town, Jenny, Kimberly, and I were dressed to kill. Jenny wore shiny black leggings that emphasized her dancer-like legs with a purple and gold shirt, while Kimberly chose some amazing acid-washed jean shorts with a neon green tank-top. I had on a hot pink mini skirt with an oversized teal t-shirt hanging off one shoulder. We had used up a bottle of hairspray getting ready, so our hair looked fantastic, despite the humidity. We were ready to have some fun. We headed down to the main bar in town. It was called "The Pirate's Revenge" but everyone knew it as just "Revenge." Half of the venue was open to night air, music blasting out and the lights twinkling into the darkness. It was the place to be. Jenny giggled and grabbed my hand, pulling me urgently toward the welcoming lights. If those military boys were anywhere tonight, they were at this bar. We stepped inside, adjusting our eyes to the revolving colored disco lights, and the
June 5th, 1990- EveningDean took me by the hand, and we stumbled out of the brightly-lit bar and onto the sidewalk. I knew that the other girls would wonder about where I went, but I didn't care. I could feel the whiskey and beer buzzing through my system, making me giddy. We were outside before I realized that Dean hadn't let go of my hand. I could feel his heat seeping into my skin, sending little tendrils of electricity up my spine. I was lightheaded, and I knew it wasn't just from the alcohol.Since I'd seen the house while out on the beach with Jenny and Kimberly, I already knew the way to the house. I half-consciously started to lead the way. "What's your hurry?" he asked. "That eager to get me to my house?"I stuck my tongue out at him. "All right, big guy, what else do you have in mind?"He shrugged his shoulders. I couldn't help but notice the strength in them whenever he did that. "Have you ever checked out the shops in Old Town?"I smiled. "Yes, we went there earlier today
Present Day Half of a turkey sandwich stared up at me, daring me to eat it, but I just couldn't find the appetite. I had eaten the first half, and had even enjoyed it, but my aching heart was taking up all the space in my body and I just didn't have room to fit the sandwich. I pushed the food away, the plate making a soft grating noise along the wood table. The Saunders family portrait stared out at me from across the table. It was one from when the two boys were young. Jack stood next to his father, his hair neat and eyes bright. Robbie, his younger brother, sat on his mother's knee. Despite the outward calm of the picture, I remembered running around trying to catch Robbie to make his hair lay flat for the picture. He had run around the studio like a wild child, eventually tripping and scraping his knee. I could see the edge of the bandage poking out from beneath his shorts. The table vibrated. I looked askance at the plate, wondering if I had angered the turkey sandwich gods by
Two and a half years ago Bianca Saunders strode toward me with anger flashing in her eyes. I froze in my seat, quickly forgetting the memo I was typing. She should have looked demure in her dress suit, gold flowers shining out happily from a field of silver, but instead, she just looked like an angry bee. I hoped I wasn't the one about to be stung. "Jack needs a new bodyguard." She threw a newspaper at my chest as she stomped across my office and into the executive lounge, heading toward the coffee pot. She tottered on her golden heels, shaking in her rage and splashing coffee across the counter. Some of the dark liquid spilled on her jacket, and she cursed under her breath as she grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at the silver and gold embroidery. I fumbled with the newspaper and groaned slightly when I saw the headline. Billionaire's Bodyguard Assaults Photographer blazed out in bold letters across the heading of the page. In a blurry black and white photo, Jack looked on in hor
June 6th, 1990 I woke up nestled on Dean's arm, using it as a pillow. We were still in more or less the same spot that we had had sex in a few hours before. He was snoring softly, which was really cute. I looked at my watch and found that it was still really early. My head was swimming a little bit and I really had to go to the bathroom. I didn't want to wake Dean, so I tried to sneak out of the bed. However, my hair must have tickled his arm, because his arm shot out and grabbed mine. He took me by surprise, and I squealed a little bit. He laughed. "Where do you think you're going? We're supposed to go surfing," he said, obviously still half asleep. He blinked, then let go of my arm. His eyes focused, and he looked me up and down. I blushed. The sun's light was much more illuminating than the moon's, and I realized that he was drinking in his first clear sight of my naked body. This man was a stranger, and suddenly I felt extremely self conscious. I pulled the sheet from the bed up