Stalker On Mountain Ridge

Avery POV June 13 It was a beautiful day. The sun was bright and warm. The sky was a clear, almost blinding blue with only the occasional thick, fluffy white cloud passing overhead. Birds were cheerfully singing their hearts out perched on the branches of the oak and maple trees looming nearby. Off in the distance, I could hear waves crashing and the scream of the seagulls that were undoubtedly soaring over the ocean scanning the water for a meal.  It was a gorgeous late spring day and I hated it. Where were the gray clouds?  Where was the bitter chill in the air?  That is how this day should have looked. Gloomy and sad, just like me. Rain should be falling just as hard and as fast as the tears streaming down my face. Thunder should be rumbling overhead, mimicking the agonizing screams that echoed in my head. Lightning should be breaking the sky like this whole week had broken my heart. A week?  Had it really been that long? It all seemed so surreal. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t slept much since the accident, or because I simply couldn’t accept what was happening.  Even now, as I sat beneath that garnet-colored canopy looking everywhere, but at the shiny, silver casket in front of me, I could not accept that Cal was gone. I was so desperate to pretend that it was all just a horrible dream that I refused to bow my head while the preacher prayed for Cal’s soul and for the commitment of his body to the earth. Instead, I mentally raged at God. How dare you take him!  Haven’t you taken enough from me? Obviously, there would be no answers forthcoming. I had long ago stopped believing that God gave two shits about me and sometimes I questioned if he even existed at all. Which went against my Presbyterian upbringing. Other times I simply wondered what I had done to incur his wrath.  He’d taken my mother when I was 16. Just when I was learning to navigate that treacherous road into womanhood. Then, he’d allowed the weight of that grief to crush my father until he could take it no longer and four years later, ended his own life, leaving me, my older sister, and younger brother to carry on alone. Fresh tears began to fall, and I reached for the tissue that lay in my lap only to find a pile of tiny pieces. I had, apparently, shredded the tissue without realizing it. With nothing else to do, I stared at the pile, willing it to become whole again. Suddenly, a pair of hands appeared from my left and scooped the pile up, then disappeared again. I raised my head and met the sympathetic gaze of my best friend, Jonah Elias. Without saying a word, he produced a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and stuffed it into my hand. I offered him a watery smile as a thank you, then patted away the dampness and returned to cursing the day and God. Calvin Campbell had loved motorcycles. Riding had given him a sense of freedom. It relieved the stress that came with being Chief Operations Officer at one of the biggest internet security firms in the world. The fact that his father was the founder and CEO of that firm had had no impact on his climb to the top. He’d needed to work hard to earn that position and he’d ridden to stay motivated. After he’d secured the promotion, he’d ridden to avoid burning out as so many executives had in the past.  We had been married only a few months when Cal had achieved his goal and celebrated by purchasing the classic 1956 model that he’d long admired. It had been the cause of our first fight because he hadn’t thought to discuss it with me first. Not that he needed my permission, he didn’t, I just preferred to be involved in the decision to make major purchases.  The fight had been short-lived.  In the end, I relented by acknowledging that Cal had worked tirelessly to earn that COO position and he deserved to celebrate his accomplishment. If that meant buying the motorcycle of his dreams then, so be it. We could afford for him to feed his frivolity every once in a while.  He’d taken that bike out every weekend that weather allowed, and he’d be gone for hours just riding up the coast or through the desert. It hadn’t bothered me because I’d seen how happy it made him. He’d been riding that motorcycle when the accident happened.  I tried to stop myself from reliving that day, but the images kept coming.  I’d finally finished and sent the manuscript for my second book with days to spare. It had been a grueling process due to an unusual attack of writer’s block and had taken me straight down to the wire. When it was finished, I’d decided to celebrate, so I’d poured myself a glass of wine and settled in to wait for Cal.  Then, the knock came, and my world stopped.  Two uniformed California Highway Patrol officers stood on the porch wearing somber expressions. I couldn’t remember what they’d said. All I remembered was the feeling of my heart being ripped from my chest, my legs buckling beneath me, and my body sliding down to the floor. I remembered those two officers helping me to my feet and back into the house. I remembered curling myself into a ball on the sofa, sobbing and begging them to tell me that it wasn’t true. They’d asked me if they could call someone for me, and only one name came to mind.  Jonah.  Jonah Elias and Emily Cardell had been Cal’s and my best friends for three years and they came the moment they were called. They came and took care of everything. Jonah had made the necessary phone calls and Emily sat with me while I grieved. They had gone with me to the funeral home Cal’s parents had recommended and helped me through every detail of the planning. They’d planned the wake themselves when I just couldn’t bring myself to make another decision. Jonah arranged for our friend Wade’s restaurant to cater it. Their housekeeper, Millie had come and ensured the house was ready to receive guests, then volunteered to remain on hand to assist with serving and cleaning up. They’d stayed with me the night before and had been at my side all morning. They were there with me now, standing behind me, supporting me. I was so grateful to them for all they had done and continued to do on my behalf. I couldn’t have begun to express that gratitude in words.  Lost in thought, I didn’t realize that the service had concluded until someone reached for my hand to offer their condolences. Panic began to rise up and with it, the urge to jerk my hand away. I didn’t want their condolences or their offers of support. I didn’t want to say goodbye, I wasn’t ready. Fresh tears spilled over as my heart began to race, and my chest constricted painfully. My throat closed up and I couldn’t for the life of me draw in any air. My desperate need to escape became overwhelming. So, I ran. I ran until my lungs burned until my legs threatened to buckle. I ran until there was nowhere else to run. When I finally stopped, I stood before a pond at the back of the cemetery. The sign to my left said, ‘Pool of Peace’. To my right sat a bench dedicated in loving memory to someone’s mother. My body was weak from grief, from exhaustion, so I sat down and stared out over the water. Jonah POV Emily and I watched with nearly a hundred other mourners as Avery fled Cal’s graveside. Her sister and brother came to stand next to us in front of Cal’s casket. All of us exchanged looks, expecting one of the others to know what to do. “I’ll go get her,” Leah said, finally. “No. Let Jonah.” Emily turned to Leah and placed a hand on her arm. “I know she’s your sister, but she and Jonah have a special connection. I think she’d be more inclined to come back if he were to ask her.” Leah nodded and she and Mason stepped aside ready to receive condolences on Avery’s behalf.  Emily turned to face the dumbfounded crowd behind us. “Ladies and gentlemen, I realize this may be unusual, but please remember Avery is only 27 years old. Today, her husband is being laid to rest. Please try to understand how she must be feeling and pray for her comfort.” She paused and listened as the funeral director whispered in her ear, then continued, “At this time, I’d like to invite you all to join us for refreshments in Cal’s memory at his and Avery’s home up on Mountain Ridge.” She turned back to me and kissed my cheek. “I’ll go help Millie and Wade at the house. You go find Avery. She needs you.” Reluctantly, I started off in the direction that Avery had run while Emily ushered people to their waiting cars. My heart ached for Avery. Of course, I was grieving, too, but my pain was nothing compared to hers. I lost my friend. She’d lost her husband and partner. She’d lost a part of herself and would never get it back.  I’d wanted to go after her the minute she’d fled, my heart urged me to, but I had to hold back. She was my best friend and she needed me, but I didn’t want to stir speculation. I couldn’t let anyone even suspect that I had inappropriate feelings for her, especially not my wife. Feelings that I’d been fighting since the day we met. So, I’d waited, and both hoped and feared that someone else would be the one to go to her.  Emily was right.  Of all those present for Cal’s funeral, I was the best choice. She would listen to me. Not because I was her best friend, but because I understood the pain of loss and the emptiness that followed. I related to her on a level that most others could not. It was what had created that bond between us. Like Avery, I had lost both of my parents. My father, to an accident when I was 8 years old and my mother, to ovarian cancer at 23. We both had siblings who shared those losses, but all had dispersed to different corners of the world to cope in their own way. My brother joined the military. Avery’s sister moved to Atlanta and her brother moved to Boston. We’d both spent most of our adult lives trying to build new families to fill the void.  I felt her even before I saw her sitting on the bench in front of the pond. Her back was to me, but I could see the grief in her posture. It took everything in me to keep from rushing over to her.  She might not appreciate the intrusion.  I made myself hang back, waiting until she turned and saw me. The agony in those beautiful storm gray eyes took my breath away and I hesitated. Seeing Avery in pain was almost more than I could bear. I felt inept and powerless, knowing there was nothing I could do to make it better. No amount of comfort I offered would erase the grief. If there was something I could do, I would do it. I would have given anything to smooth the lines of misery from her face.  When she slid to one side of the bench, I continued my approach and sat down next to her. I said nothing. She didn’t need words now. I just reached over and took her hand ignoring the electricity that coursed through me from the point of contact. After a few moments, Avery turned her head to look at me.  “I’m sorry, I left... I just couldn’t be there anymore,” she admitted, shifting her eyes back to the water.  “I understand... Everyone understands.” I wrapped my arm around her and pulled her against me in what I hoped was a casual embrace. She lay her head on my shoulder and we lapsed into companionable silence, again. I wasn’t sure how long we’d sat there, only that the sun had started to sink a little lower in the sky. I was going to have to get her to leave soon or we’d end up locked inside.  “The cemetery is going to be closing soon,” I said, quietly. “I know,” she answered without looking at me. “I just don’t want to go home. I can’t face all those people.”  “Then, you won’t have to.” I reached into my jacket pocket, pulled out my phone, and sent off a quick text to my wife. I found Avery. She’s sitting near a pond in the back of the cemetery. She doesn’t want to face anyone. Can you clear the house, so I can bring her home? Absolutely! Only a few stragglers left. I’ll send them on their way. Bring our girl home, baby.  “Em, will have everyone gone by the time we get there,” I told Avery as I put my phone back in my pocket. “Let’s go home.” Emily did not disappoint. She and Millie were the only ones that remained when I escorted Avery into the house. They had just finished cleaning up and putting away the leftover food.  Emily rushed to Avery and guided her to the sofa. “Can I get you something to eat? Something to drink?” “Thanks, Em but, I’m okay.” Millie walked over and took Avery’s hand. “I left my number on the refrigerator. If you need anything at all, you call me. I don’t care if you just want me to load the dishwasher, I will be here,” she said, kissing Avery on the top of her head.  I escorted Millie to the door and kissed her cheek. “Thank you for helping out today, Ma,” I said.   “It’s the least I can do for that poor sweet child,” she said reaching up to pat my cheek. “Take care of her.” “We will.” After closing the door behind Millie, I came around and sat in the chair flanking the sofa and Avery. The three of us sat in silence. Neither Emily nor I knew exactly what we should say or what we could do to help our grieving friend. Death took a terrible toll on the survivors. Avery had seen enough of it in her young life that the scars were still visible to those who really looked at her. “Avery, why don’t you come stay with Jonah and me for a while?” Emily offered, taking both of her hands. “We’ve got plenty of room.” “Thank you, both so much. I will never be able to pay you back for all you have done for me this past week.” Avery picked at a piece of imaginary lint on her skirt. “I don’t know what I would have done without you...”  “You don’t owe us anything,” I stated firmly, mildly insulted.  “He’s right.” Emily hugged her. “We’re here for you, always.” “Thank you.” Avery stood and moved to the fireplace mantle to look at her and Cal’s wedding pictures. “I love you both so much. I’ve never had friends like you before.”  She hadn’t, I knew. Every friend she’d ever had growing up and throughout college had abandoned her. They couldn’t relate to the tragedies that plagued her life and they couldn’t understand her need for solitude to process and heal. So, they’d walked away. A twist in my stomach warned me that a retreat into seclusion was in the offing. When Avery turned back to face us, I knew I was right.  “Please don’t be angry with me...” Avery started.  “Why would we be...” Emily began and then stopped when she realized what was about to happen. “Ave...” “I’m sorry... I need to be alone for a while...” She paused and looked away, choking back a sob. “It’s the only way I know how to deal with... I just need to take time to grieve and to learn to accept.” Emily and I looked at each other. Our grief and concern were apparent on our faces.  Emily stood. “If that’s what you need then, we will respect that.”  “Thank you for understanding...” Avery said, swiping at her face as more tears began to fall. “I promise, I will call you when I can breathe again.”