Connected (Connections, #1)(14)
12 months after…
March 4, 2011
Grace insisted I stay with her last week and she took me to see my therapist every day. She received an update on his killer. The police told her the shooter would be standing trial within the next twelve months. When she told me, she made me go to her house; she knew how upset I was.
I didn’t mind staying with her really because the loneliness and heartbreak were eating away at me, but I finally came home today. Home. That’s a funny way of putting it. More like I came back to the house that he and I shared as our home before he died.
Yesterday was the anniversary of his death, and after visiting the cemetery Grace sat me down and told me it was time to take my ring off. She handed me a long white gold chain she had bought and told me to wear the ring around my neck until I felt I could take it off and put it away forever. She reminded me that the ring, and he, would always be a fond memory I would have forever, but it was time to start living my life. She cried more that day than I’d seen her cry in the past year and I realized the depth of her grief as well.
After arriving home, I went to sit outside on the stone patio I love so much. It was quiet and peaceful, like a private oasis with a pebble stone path that leads to the pool. I noticed the purple flowers from the Salvia had bloomed. In fact, most of the wildflowers are starting to bloom. They are beautiful, and I started to cry thinking spring is here already. Another season alone.
Walking down the pathway, I saw that butterflies were everywhere. I sat in one of the Adirondack chairs on the back of the patio and looked at the dazzling ring on my hand. The 2.5 carat Tiffany bezel princess-cut ring is really stunning. He picked it out himself and told me it just reminded him of me. The contours of the princess-cut diamond accentuate its shape in a streamlined platinum bezel setting. It is elegant, modern, and simply radiant.
As I twisted the ring around my finger, I remembered the day he proposed. I’d just graduated from Grad school, and he was already working full-time as a journalist at the paper. We had both been really busy the last couple of months, so I insisted he take off work the Monday after my graduation, and he surprisingly agreed, saying we needed to spend some time together. Having just moved into our house in Laguna Beach, we decided to get some things done on Sunday and make Monday our fun day.
We woke up early Monday morning. I stepped into the backyard to watch the sunrise and I recall the way my skin pricked from the chill in the air. I remember the light breeze that swept through my hair. The cooler temperature prompted warmer clothing choices than normal. As he walked in front of me I could see the waistband of his board shorts slightly peeking out from his jeans. I threw on my favorite J Crew black and white striped sweater over my bikini.
We packed up the BMW M5 Touring with all our gear and headed to Rockpile Beach. I didn’t really care for the surfing there, but he loved it. “The coast has a sick reef break right now. Depending on the conditions, we could catch a right at the north corner, and if it comes together it will be cranking. Come on Dahl, it only happens maybe three times a year and right now is one of them.” He was so excited I couldn’t possibly say no.
When we arrived at the beach with our boards on top of the car, I looked out to the waves and gasped a little. The paddling channel was to the South of the beach where the rip allowed easy access to some very big, thick, and grinding waves. He took his aviator sunglasses off and watched the waves. They looked to be medium sized, eight feet or more. The small cove had a lot of water rushing in. We didn’t even get out of the car. He knew there was no way I was going to be able to surf those waves without getting crushed.
“Go ahead, go. I’ll watch you,” I said, staring at the waves crashing against the rocks.
“Nah, I don’t have a death wish today, another time Dahl. Let’s head down south,” he said with his hand cupped over his blue eyes, squinting out into the vast Pacific. He put his sunglasses back on and pulled onto US 1. It was a beautiful day. We had the windows open, and I could feel the heat of the sun soaking into my skin, The Cure was blaring through the speakers. “You hungry? I’m starving. Taco Bell first?” he asked with a huge smile on his face. For some reason he only liked that particular Taco Bell.
Rolling my eyes at his choice of restaurant, I just smiled and nodded my head. “Sure, why not, but I get to pick the dinner spot.”
“Saweet,” he said, laughing back at me.
After lunch he surprised me when he asked, “Dahl, what do you say we grab some towels and head down the beach where it’s a little quieter? We might even catch some Zs?”
“You don’t want to surf?” I asked as I looked out into the blue of the Pacific, the waves ripping radiantly out to the horizon, and the many bodies already on boards.
“Nah, not feeling it,” he said, grabbing my hand and leading me to the car to grab the towels. We then walked down to the never-ending beach of glistening sand.
We headed out a couple of miles until we were far away from the hub of the facilities. When we were alone, he threw a towel on the sand and picked me up, making like he was going to throw me on it. I screamed in protest as he gently laid me on the towel, bracing himself on top of me to kiss me. It was so quiet I could hear the birds squawking as they dove into the water to catch their prey.
“I’ve missed this,” he whispered while dipping his head down to kiss my neck, tickling me with his unshaven face, “And I’ve missed you not being around.” He continued running his hands down the length of my body.