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Authors: R.W. Jones

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              “Oh really,  I might just do that,” she said after faking like she was going to look it up before getting out of the chair, wearing nothing but my New River University t-shirt, and jumping into the bed with me.  For the rest of the day we took turns spilling our guts to each other, among other things.  I had felt that she had told me more about herself, so I thought it only fair to tell her more about myself.  I knew she had read a lot of the writings I had done about my wife, but went into even more detail.

              At the end of the day I told Jen how thankful I was to get to know her.  I told her that I couldn’t imagine there were too many people in the world that would have a relationship with someone who talked about their past so much.  I told her about my attempts at visiting a therapist after my wife died, but that it wasn’t for me.  I told Jen that her kind of therapy was definitely more for me, and I knew I was lucky to have her in my life.  Finally, I told her I hoped I wasn’t talking about my past too much.

              “I love hearing about your past.  It’s really refreshing to hear about a couple that made it work when so many don’t nowadays.  I know you are a good man by what you tell me about your past.  I will tell you if you are ever talking about it too much.”

              After contemplating in silence for a while – a silence I was comfortable with for the first time in a while – Jen asked, “Do you mind if I stay the night?”  I answered a little quickly, “No, of course not,” which caused Jen to smile and roll over closer to me.  This turned out to be another night I didn’t get too much sleep.

 

33

              The next morning we got out of bed and headed down to the lobby of my complex for the continental breakfast.  I had expected light talking to join us with our light breakfast, but I was mistaken.

              “I have something to tell you, but before I do I don’t want you to think this was some big plan of mine, the last few nights.  Especially last night.”

              “Um, okay, what is it?”  As you can imagine a million possibilities went through my head.  I somehow went to the thought that she somehow knew she was pregnant already, but I also realized that would have been some kind of record between what we did and finding out she was expecting.  Still, I’m sure the color drained from my face.

              “You know the girl that’s been training at Burger Bar I told you about?  She’s taking my place.  My last day is next week.”

              I was silent, processing everything for a minute or two.  My first thought was wondering what she was going to do next, so that’s what I asked.

              “What are you going to do next?”

              “I had been thinking of leaving Vegas for a while.  In fact, the night of our first date was when I originally put in my notice that I was leaving.  I told them that since I didn’t exactly have to be anywhere by a certain date that I could stick around until they found someone to replace me.  When we went on our first date – and I’m sure you understand – I didn’t think it would turn into this, something so great.”  When she finished she took a deep breath, appearing anxious to hear my response.

              “I can understand that, I’d be lying if I told you I thought we would become this.  If you knew my track record with women, especially lately, I wasn’t exactly holding out hope for a great relationship either.”

              I then continued after a few seconds, “Where are you planning to go?”

              “Before you and I got serious I thought I would go back to Kansas City, but after meeting you, you inspired me to keep going with my travels.  I know at some point I have to think about settling down and getting a real job again, and in my mind I’ve just felt like this is the right time.  I’m over 30 years old.”

              “Now that we both appear more serious than we originally thought, what do you want to do?”  I asked, while nudging in closer to her.

              “I don’t know, but I know that I want to experience things with you.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think you love Vegas.  When you talk about the Keys I can hear it in your voice how much you enjoyed it.  I have some places I’d like to go with you too and see if we can find places we like together.”

              Over a plate of shared danishes, I hoped I showed that I wanted to be with her too, sealing my answer with a kiss.  She didn’t have to say another word.  I knew she wanted to be with me too. 

              “So, are you ready to leave Vegas?” she asked.

 

34

              “In what I’ve come to describe as the last part of my journey, I decided to come visit you.  I haven't been here since the day you were buried.  It rained this morning, but now it’s warm.  You always thought it was funny that I liked the rain so much.  While you would run into the store from the parking lot I always took my time.  Then again, you said I took my time doing almost everything, including visiting you for the first time today.           

              “I always felt guilty that I wasn’t coming by to just sit at your gravestone to spend time with you and talk to you.  But I always justified my reason for not visiting in two ways.  The first reason, I told myself I wasn’t going to visit you, is because for a full year after you died I didn’t do anything that I thought you would be interested in.  That can also be thought of as I didn’t do anything that I was proud of telling you.

              “The second reason was because I had a strong feeling that you were always with me.  I’m sure I may have used this reasoning to justify not seeing you, but I really did think you were there.  When I was gearing up to go on my journey, one small step at a time, I felt you were both there to get me going in the right direction, but also telling me there was no rush.  When you are under distress like I was for quite a long time you wonder what is real and what isn’t, but I really did feel your presence, even in the darkest of times.

              “Of course, what’s most likely the real reason I didn’t come visit you is because I was scared.  I was scared about how it would make me feel.  I was scared of what I would say to you, or if I would say anything at all.  Most of all I was scared that the memories we shared would all come flooding back to me.  While in theory that should have made me feel happy, at the time of my mourning I just thought I would regress from any progress I had made.  I realized now that there was no right or wrong answer.

              “When I took my trip it was with you in mind, of course.  At first, everything I did new was met with the thought that it was something I would never get to do with you.  Many times I just thought about going back home, lying in bed for another year, or longer, and relying on my parents to take care of me.  But I kept going.  I owed it to you.

              “It’s clear you were there every step of the way.  While you were living you always wanted me to reconnect with my sister.  You knew how close Chloe and I were growing up, and you always pushed me to make the first call, or first visit, but I didn’t.  Well, when I got in the car the first day of the journey, you not only pointed me south, but you pointed me to Chloe and her beautiful daughter Cassidy.  I see signs of you in her, including her love of animals.  She’s only seven, but she has already told me several times she wants to be a veterinarian.  As my trip progressed I believe I never would have taken that first step in reconciling with my sister if it wasn’t for you.

              “The Keys.  I couldn’t figure out if you directed me there.  We had never really talked about that part of the country, but during my many hours of traveling I think I figured it out.  You knew I always had this desire to ‘do something different.’  You told me many times that I was already following the path less traveled because I was a writer, but we both knew I meant something else.  In Florida, I worked on a fishing boat.  That was certainly different.  Also, just the town of Key West is different.  I love it there, but after a few weeks, I start to long for something else.

              “I think that longing was the wanting to come home again.  You always said I was a homebody, but I always seemed to want to prove to you, and more likely myself, that I wasn’t.  So instead of going home during my trip I went to the most opposite place I could think of, Las Vegas.  As I suspected, and I’m sure you probably tried to give me signs, I didn’t like Vegas too much, but I’m sure glad I went there.  I was on the road well over a year, seeing just about every part of the country worth seeing and meeting great people along the way.  They, whoever they are, say you can’t go home again, but here I am, and I don’t have any more plans on leaving anytime soon.

              “Life sure is different without you, and we all miss you every day.  Bahama is doing well, and enjoyed our trip as much as I did, if not more.  If anything, she sure ate well.  She is happy to be back home.  Like me, she always sleeps much better in her own bed, which is of course also my bed.

              “I’m still writing, and that’s a big reason why I’m here today.  A couple of months before I headed out on my journey I started writing again.  I tried to keep a journal, but often times too many memories would come back and I would set it aside for weeks before writing another entry.  I also didn’t have much to write about.

              “When I started my trip, I didn’t really intend to make writing a daily thing, but as the trip progressed that’s exactly what happened.  I would say that when I became comfortable in the Keys I began writing every day, even if for just 10 or 15 minutes.

              “Those writings, with the support and encouragement of loved ones, became the copy of the book I’m leaving with you today, though I have a feeling you have already read it.  I hope you like it.  Everything in it was written with you in mind, and in honor of you.  I love you, and I always will.”

              As I finished up the letter, Cassidy called from the limo, “Hurry up, Uncle Mike! You don’t want to keep Jen waiting, do you?”

              She was right.  I certainly didn’t want to keep my bride waiting on our wedding day.

 

 

Acknowledgements

While I agree writing is a singular pursuit, the construction of a book is not.  With that, I have many people to thank.

 

Thank you to Mike Reed for creating an amazing cover.  Without a cover, there would be no book.

 

Thank you to my cousin, Jessica Woods, for going through a red marker (or three) while editing the first copy of my book.

 

Thank you to my step-mother, Annette Jones, for also adding valuable input in the editing process.

 

Thank you to Jeremy Congdon and his team at Immerge Technologies for creating my website:
www.rwjonesauthor.com
.

 

Thank you to Nathan Gottlieb for helping me through the many ups and downs associated with writing a book. 

 

Thank you to Marianne Jones for being the first person to read this book as a book.

 

Thank you to my friends and family who supported and motivated me throughout the entire process.

 

Thank you to my wife, Jessica, for taking care of all the other things that were over my head during the writing process, including putting this acknowledgements page in the correct place before publication.

 

 

About the Author

              R.W. Jones is a former freelance writer with a passion for reading, writing, and traveling.  His career has allowed him to cover numerous sporting events and interview some of the biggest names in sports.  He currently lives in Virginia with his wife, their dog Kokomo and cat Charlotte.  Check out more on R.W. Jones at his website
www.rwjonesauthor.com
.

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Reinventing Mike Lake
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