CHAPTER 8

Eric and I are walking along the beach, which we do quite often. Living on the beach allows for easy access after all, but what surprises me most is that Boone is with us, running through the ocean froth and dancing about like the world was made just to please him.

“It’s a beautiful day. I’m so glad we got to go for a walk, what with your busy schedule and all,” Eric says with a wink.

“Oh Lord, yes. John is like a kid in a candy shop. He won’t leave me alone about anything. Tours, promotional book signings…all the crap I hate to do…he’s all over it.”

“You made a masterpiece babe. He’s only doing his job.”

“Wow…did you actually defend John?!” I ask with mock surprise.

He lets out a hearty laugh as he says, “I’m just glad he’s taking good care of you is all.”

I give Eric’s hand a squeeze and kiss his cheek. “You take good care of me too.”

A wistful look comes over Eric’s face as he looks out over the expanse of ocean. The sun is dancing sparkles across the surface, a sight I will never tire of. His eyes land on Boone and a gentle smiles comes onto his face.

“Boone sure is a good dog, babe. I’m so glad I found him.” Eric squeezes my hand and looks down at me with total adoration in his eyes.

“What do you mean? I totally found him,” I say as I playfully punch his bicep.

“It never takes much convincing you though. You’re a sucker for anything cute…Hence marrying me,” he winks at me again and playfully swats my butt.

I roll my eyes and exclaim, “Be that as it may, I found him. It was the night I was crying because you di…” My pace slows until I’m standing completely still. I’m still holding Eric’s hand, which has gone unnaturally cold in mine and he’s standing a few paces in front of me, watching me with his intense blue eyes. Boone has wandered over to us and sits down patiently next to Eric. Now they are both watching me.

“…Because you died,” I finish lamely. Boone whimpers softly and Eric smiles sadly.

“You died,” I repeat, more to myself then to anyone else.

Eric squeezes my hand as he says, “I told you not to worry. It wasn’t going to be like that forever. But I had to make sure you were taken care of.”

I’m acutely aware of the colors, the noises, the textures that surround me. So I’m dreaming.

“Yes, babe. You’re dreaming,” Eric says quietly. He’s stroking my cheek with his thumb and he’s still smiling that sad little smile. I’m trying to wrap my head around this and it’s taking longer then it should. I’m a writer, after all. I should be quick. But it’s not coming to me as fast as I would like. My brows are furrowed and I’m looking around me like I might find the answer written in the sand.

“Sal, look at me,” Eric’s voice is soft but firm and like a moth to a flame my eyes find his.

“I died. That much is obvious, otherwise cremating me was a serious mistake,” he laughs softly at his own joke but stops abruptly when he see’s a tear fall down my cheek. “Sorry…bad joke. But hey…remember the day we got married?”

I only nod because, once again, my vocal cords have failed me. Stupid cords.

“Remember when we had just cut the cake and I fed you your piece? Remember what I said to you?” His eyes are anxious and his voice is low but intense.

I nod again.

“What did I say?”

I try to speak again but nothing comes out.

“What did I say, Sal. Tell me.” He gives my head a little shake and squeezes my hand sternly. He’s not asking now…he’s demanding.

“You said you’d never leave me, that you’d always take care of me,” the words burst out of my mouth, far too loudly, but hell at least I’m speaking again.

He smiles and kisses the tip of my nose. “That’s right. And even though that little shit plowed me with his car, I’ll still take care of you. In any way I can.”

He gives me a sheepish smile and steps back, allowing me the space I need to digest this.

Boone has pressed himself up again my leg, watching me with those soulful eyes I’ve come to love. I clear my throat and say, “So…you sent Boone to me?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Eric says with a slight tilt of his beautiful lips.

I’m not sure what to do with that. All I can do is bend down and scratch Boone’s head while still holding Eric’s hand. My two boys.

Eric kneels beside me and cups my face again. He doesn’t say anything but then again, I guess he doesn’t really need to. I realize I’m dreaming, that Eric and I are not really walking along the beach, that he isn’t breathing or living. As it is, I guess this is the best I can get.

“Will I ever see you again?” I sound like a whiney child and I couldn’t care less.

“Every damn day, babe. You just gotta look for me.”

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