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| THE PRESENT COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO SUMMER, 1999
Paige Michaels They say that you never forget your first love. That one man who was the first to rock your world so tough, currents still ripple through you whenever you think about him. You might be married to this man right now or maybe you haven’t seen him in years. But this man—your first love—is the one you’ll never forget. Paige Michaels stood on the small, cement patio outside her condo looking out into the distance. Her mind was not on the scenic view or the changes time had wrought on the Colorado landscape. She was thinking about her first love, and how much their time together had influenced her life. She often found herself thinking about the past and the things she’d experienced in becoming the woman she was today. So far, her choices had made her a wife and mother at the age of seventeen, a divorcée at eighteen, and the owner of a highly lucrative executive services firm at forty-four. Sometimes Paige couldn’t help wondering how her life might have turned out if only she’d made a different set of choices—would her life have been better, worse, or pretty much the same? The sun was setting when Paige looked to the west. She watched streaks of hot pink, golden-orange, and misty lavender commingle and follow the sinking sun behind the Colorado Rocky Mountain range. The sunsets in Colorado were always a glorious sight and reminded Paige of the seasons. In the spring, the colors were fresh and new, like the cycle of life that unfurled each year. In the summer, they were bright and warm, like the heat and laziness of the days. In the fall, they were sharp and crisp, as if reflecting the hues of the changing foliage, and in winter, they were ethereal and cool, as if encased in the snow crystals that filled the air. She liked summer the best, which was why she’d chosen the month of July for her wedding. Paige took one last look at the resplendent horizon then entered the house. She went into the kitchen, opened the day planner lying on the counter, and called her office in Denver. Listening to the messages, she jotted down some notes on the executives scheduled to go through training courses over the next couple of months. Then she picked up the wineglasses and a bottle of Chardonnay she’d set out earlier. In the living room, Paige stopped and surveyed the space through eyes that had drifted back in time. For years, she had felt a growing need to come back to this city and this apartment complex. After one of her clients, a real estate broker, mentioned that his firm had acquired the property, it had seemed fitting somehow that she purchase the condominium. Once the wedding was over, the condo would become one of several rental properties in her investment portfolio and she’d return the furniture and the cream and peach décor items she’d rented. In retrospect, it had worked out perfectly. This was the place where the chaos of her life had brought her to a turning point and holding her wedding in Colorado Springs would bring her life full circle. The last few months had been hectic and there had been times when she’d questioned her sanity. It was in those moments that she missed Jazmin and Arianna most. Paige moved to a black soft leather couch, set the items in her hands on the glass-topped table, and popped the cork on the wine. She filled her crystal wineglass, drank it down, and poured a refill. Lounging back, she closed her eyes, enjoying the cool breeze wafting in through the open patio doors as her thoughts turned back to the two women who were closer to her than family. Her friendships with the two women had begun at different times, but it was in this three-story building that the three of them had come together and formed a bond that had endured the test of time. Paige had always thought that their friendship had flourished because of the things they’d all shared in common. A year separated their ages; all had been born in the month of July, and all three had left households headed by mothers none wanted to emulate in life. Hers had died five years ago. Paige drank deeply from her glass. Damn, sometimes she missed the old witch. Now she knew that it wasn’t so much what they had in common as much as it was the uniqueness each had brought into the friendship. She’d been the wild child blowing through drugs and men like a tornado winding through town. Arianna, though naïve in many ways, had always been willing to lend an ear. She wrote romance novels and lived on a farm in Kansas with her husband and three boys. As arbiter, Jazmin had a way of calming things down among the three of them. She could also cause a ruckus if riled. After years on the international modeling circuit, Jazmin had opened a string of exclusive beauty salons. She lived in New York City now and she was married to a doctor. Paige had long suspected and now knew for a fact that the union was not a happy one. What she couldn’t understand was why Jazmin, of all people, would try to play it off as if it were. Paige had been pushing for a reunion for years. Arianna and Jazmin had never been able to agree on a workable date. She could understand that. Both of them led extremely busy lives. However, the chapters in your book of life opened, filled, and closed so fast it was hard to keep up with the passage of time, and for every choice made, other possibilities remained unexplored. Most people had something in their past that they wished they’d handled differently. Usually, it was pride that prevented them from taking advantage of the opportunity to effect a positive change. She’d seized her opportunity and her restless spirit was calm. She just wanted the same thing for her friends. She sipped from her glass. Now her girls wouldn’t even return her calls, and to Paige, that was unacceptable. The three of them had been friends too long for her to let Arianna and Jazmin slip out of her life. Since they both seemed hell-bent on ignoring her, this time she’d sent each of them a telegram, hoping that the short missive would get her friends back to Colorado. She’d know, in a few days at most, whether Jazmin and Arianna would come back and whether the reunion she longed for would take place. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” Paige pushed herself up. “I was thinking.” “About what?” “Arianna and Jazmin…and whether they’ll come home this time.” “Well, all you can do now is wait and see.” “I know, but you know me, the now queen. I won’t be able to calm down completely until I hear from them. But even if Arianna can’t make it, I sure hope that Jazmin does. I’m worried about her.” “If they do come, do you want me here when they arrive?” “No, at least not until I give you a call. I’d like to spend some time alone with my girls.” “I understand.” She tilted her head, her eyes loving as they roamed his face. “Do you really?” He sighed. “Yeah, I do.” He picked up the book on the table. “You ready?” “Yes,” she said, and reaching out, Paige turned on the peach-colored lamp sitting on the corner table as he came to join her on the couch. Chapter 2 Arianna Jackson-Lane Frederick Lane, Freddie to his family and friends, reached into his pocket and pulled out a five-dollar bill. He handed the money to the pimply-faced teenager at his front door. The boy grinned. “Thank you, sir, and you have a nice day!” “Thanks,” Freddie said, closing the door. He stared at the yellow envelope addressed to his wife and an inexplicable feeling of unease washed over him. Though tempted, he quelled the urge to open the telegram. Besides, once Arianna read the message, he would know what it said. He and his wife didn’t keep secrets from each another. Freddie ran a hand over his unshaven face and turned for the kitchen where his wife and three boisterous sons had already assembled for breakfast. He arrived just in time to see ten-year-old Brett flick a wet corn flake off his spoon at his seven-year-old brother, Robert, who then repaid his brother in kind. Arianna, busy wiping the face of their eighteen-month-old toddler, James, presumably hadn’t witnessed the commotion going on between their sons. Freddie stopped in the doorway. Sunlight streaming through the kitchen window brought out the highlights in her shoulder-length, auburn hair and formed a halo around Arianna. Her creamy brown skin seemed to glow in the sunshine. The blue chenille robe hid a figure of curves so luscious Freddie got excited just thinking about them, and when she looked at him, her caramel-colored eyes were so full of love they touched his soul. Satisfied with his wife and his life, he walked into the kitchen. A smile lit up Arianna’s face, as it always did whenever Freddie came into her view. His sable skin had a natural sheen. Jet-black curls blanketed his well-shaped head. His chin was square and strong, and topped with a set of generous lips and a thin black mustache. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones drew attention away from his wide nose to thickly fringed hazel eyes that always showed the depth of his feelings for her. Broad shoulders tapered down to arms that rippled with muscles and a powerful physique honed from years of hard work. Freddie’s six-foot, six-inch frame and imposing size belied his gentle nature. “Morning, baby. Who was at the door?” “A telegram…for you.” Freddie leaned down for her brief kiss before handing over the envelope and taking his seat at the head of the table. “For me?” Arianna dropped the washcloth. “I wonder who would be sending a telegram to me.” “Why don’t you open it and find out.” Freddie tried to appear disinterested as he reached for the platter of sausage and eggs sitting in the middle of the table. Had Arianna been observing him, she would have seen the anxiety in his eyes when she ripped open the envelope and read the message. Without comment, she slid the telegram back inside and laid the envelope beside her plate. “Brett and Robert, if the two of you don’t stop throwing cereal at this table, you’ll both go to time out.” “But Mommy,” Robert wailed, “Brett started it.” “And I’m ending it. Now, both of you eat. When you’re done, I want the two of you to clean up that junkyard you call a bedroom.” “Mom, I have a game today. I don’t have time to clean my room.” “You’ll clean your room before you go to your game or you won’t be going.” “I have to go,” Brett responded. “The team needs me! Tell her, Dad.” Brett was the star pitcher on his little league team. His father was the coach. “You heard what I said, Son. I told you and Bobby to clean that room yesterday. The two of you decided to play. Today, you get to live with the consequences of that decision.” “Awww,” Brett responded. Arianna eyed her oldest, a miniature version of his father but with her skin tone. “Awww, nothing. Now eat and then get busy on that room.” Freddie heard and processed the conversation without really listening to a thing. His gaze strayed to the envelope, then up to his wife’s face. “Baby, your parents want to ride with us to the game, so we’ll need to leave a little early.” “Yes,” he said quietly. “Mom called last night while you were taking your bath.” “Oh, then you already knew.” “Yeah, honey. I already knew.” What he didn’t know was what that telegram said, and what he wanted to know was why Arianna hadn’t yet told him. Maybe he should ask to see it, but a gut feeling told Freddie that it was something he’d be better off not knowing. |
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| A Request For Closure |
| Wanda Y. Thomas, Author Immerse Yourself in a Good Book |