Cheryl Tardif - Submerged

“But that’ll take weeks. What’ll we do on our other dates until then?”

She nudged him down onto the bed. “Sleep. Or there won’t be another date.”

He grinned. “You drive a hard bargain, woman.”

Dressed in his boxers, Marcus climbed beneath the sheets. They felt cool, satiny. He’d forgotten that sensation.

Rebecca stripped to her bra and panties, her own injuries hidden by bandages.

“We make a great couple,” he said wryly.

She laughed, then climbed in beside him. He tugged her close, his hand resting on her hip.

She watched him, a worried expression in her eyes. “Sleep, Marcus.”

She combed his hair with her fingers and he shivered. Her touch was comforting and he sighed. He stared at her for a long time, watching her pale eyelids close, her lips part and the lines across her forehead soften and disappear.

He listened to her slow steady breaths. In… out… in… out. The sound of life.

He closed his eyes.

This time, no haunting images visited him. He was free from tormented memories of the past. Free of the bloodsucking, energy draining weight of guilt that had submerged his life so completely. It was as if he had broken the surface and could now, finally, breathe.

And for the first time in over six years, Marcus slept.

Edson, Alberta – Friday, July 19, 2013 – 7:30 PM

There was a knock at Marcus’s front door.

Arizona let out a bark and a whimper.

“Arizona,” Marcus warned. “I expect you to behave like the lady you are.” The dog cocked her head to one side as if considering his words.

He sucked in a deep breath and squared his shoulders as if preparing for battle. He walked to the door, opened it and his voice left him as he gazed at the ethereal image on his doorstep. Strands of blond hair were swept up by a light breeze, then fluttered to Rebecca’s shoulders.

They’d been dating for a month now, each time in Edmonton, in public places. At first they’d gotten together for coffee. Then lunch. They talked about everything—Rebecca’s husband and their looming divorce, the pending court case against Walter Kingston, and life with Jane and Ryan.

Marcus had been more than a little surprised at the warm welcome he and Rebecca received at Jane and Ryan’s memorial, especially after he stood up in front of the family and told them about his addiction. He found forgiveness there, something he hadn’t expected.

“Hi,” he said, dazed.

There was an awkward pause, before she said, “Are you going to let me in?”

“Of course.” Wanting to kick himself, Marcus pushed the door open and ushered her inside. “Sorry. It’s been a long time since I… since I’ve… you know.”

Rebecca raised a brow. “What? Cooked dinner?”

“Had someone over. On a date.”

“Is that what this is?” Her blue eyes were luminescent.

He laughed. “We do have problems defining that word, don’t we?”

“I’m starved.” She took his arm. “Lead the way.”

Arizona whined.

“This is Arizona,” he said. “The other female in my life.”

“Hey, Arizona,” Rebecca said, pulling a rawhide stick from her pocket. “I have a treat for you.”

Arizona pushed her nose under Rebecca’s hand, a silent demand for attention. Funny thing was, Arizona didn’t normally do this with strangers.

The meal Marcus had prepared turned out perfectly. Marinated steaks grilled on the barbecue, pan-fried jumbo shrimp in Cajun spices, butter and lemon juice for dipping, and a Caesar salad. For dessert, he’d cheated though. He’d picked up a raspberry custard pie from the deli.

After dinner, they relaxed on the couch in the living room. Sipping a non-alcohol Saskatoon berry wine, they talked about their dreams and goals. Rebecca shared her excitement about starting her own business—a bed and breakfast somewhere in Alberta. He shared his thoughts of finding something different, something challenging but less stressful. But he still had doubts about his future.

“Do you believe someone like me can find redemption?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Her words caused his armor to shatter. Could it be true?

“Have you found peace with Wesley? With your marriage?”

She nodded. “He left me a long time ago. In spirit, anyway.”

“Wesley didn’t value what he had. I will.”

“I know.”

In that moment Marcus knew exactly what he wanted for his future. Rebecca. He wanted the whole package—Ella and Colton too. The thought made his heart leap.

“Come with me,” he said, tugging on her hand. “I have something to show you.”

“What?”

“You’ll see.” He went to the closet and took out her jacket. “It’s a little cool outside.”

“We’re going for a walk?”

Arizona let out a bark.

“Uh-oh,” he said, grinning. “You said the magic word.”

He leashed Arizona and they headed outside.

“This way,” he said. “Last house on the left.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Sounds ominous.”

They strolled arm in arm until they got to the end of the road.

“What’s down there?” she asked, eyeing the woods.

“A ravine with a creek. It’s quite pretty in the daylight. Not too safe at night though. Teens hang out there, smoking, doing drugs—unless I kick them out. I’ve been trying to clean up the riffraff.”

“Does that tempt you—the drugs?”

“Some days.”

She watched him with great intensity. “You’re a very honest man, Marcus.”

“I’m getting there.”

“So what’s this surprise you’re talking about?”

He pointed to the Victorian house with the lush gardens. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful. Very well kept. Charming.” She faced him, still looking unsure. “Do you know the owner?”

“I did. Mrs. Landry died a few weeks ago. The house is for sale. What comes to mind when you look at it?”

She smiled. “That’s easy. It’s close to the highway, but near a ravine. It would make a perfect bed and breakfast.”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

He stared into her eyes, caught up in the churning emotions he saw there. Happiness. Excitement. Doubt.

“I don’t know, Marcus…”

“I do.” He grabbed her hands and kissed them. “For the first time in a long time, I know exactly what I want.”

They stood in silence, too afraid to speak. Too scared they’d ruin the moment―and all the possibilities.

“Don’t you think we’re rushing things?” she asked.

“Do you?”

“Strangely… no.” She lifted her face and he kissed her.

“I saw Jane and Ryan a few nights ago,” he said. “In my dreams.”

She hugged him tight. “Was it terrible?”

“No. They came to say good-bye. She said they’re both at peace now and want the same for me.”

“Marcus?” Rebecca said in a hesitant voice. “There’s something I haven’t told you. About Jane.”

“What?”

“Right before Tracey Whitaker visited my hospital room, I heard a woman’s voice. She was comforting me, telling me to stay calm. That same voice visited me when Walter came to my house and tried to kill me.”

“You think it was Jane?” he said.

“Who else could it be? You said you keep seeing her, so why would it be so weird if I heard her?”

He didn’t know what to say.

They strolled back to his house in quiet reflection. Instead of going inside, he led her around to the backyard. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

Inside, he retrieved the wooden box from its hiding place. Then he headed outside, where he opened the box and showed her its contents. The drugs, the needle. His shame, his guilt. The latter two poured from the box, invisible yet potent.