Maybe This Life

Published by Fated Hearts Publishing

1
st
Edition Copyright 2012  J.P. Grider

2
nd
Edition Copyright 2013 J.P. Grider

Cover Art by Niina Cord

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

License Notes

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

Dedicated to my Nana, the real Angelina Maria, and to my beautiful grandmother, Bette and my dearly missed grandfather, Sam.

Lena jolted awake rattled and dripping with sweat.  Reaching for her pillow and feeling it beneath her palm, she tried to calm down. The room was pitch-black and empty.  Aside from her pounding heart trying to claw its way out of her chest, she remained still.  “Breathe, Lena.  Breathe,” she told herself.  It was only a dream, that’s all.  A dream.  Another dream.  Another nightmare invading her sleep like a bad horror flick. 

When would they stop?  Every night, Lena’s sleep was interrupted by these familiar strangers. These unwelcome intruders who terrorized her nights with constant images of assault on the same poor female victim. And the teenage boy who just stands there, drained of life, drained of emotion, looking on but doing nothing. It was always the same. The girl, running from apparent attackers. The boy, watching in fear, yet paralyzed with terror and unable to come to her rescue.

This night, Lena tried to calm herself but found it impossible. Keeping focused on her breathing, Lena attempted to close her eyes. Once she felt her heart rate return to normal, she was still unable to get back to sleep, afraid she'd begin the nightmares all over again.

But she needed sleep.  Tomorrow morning was her interview with the NNJCC and God knew... she needed this job. It had been three years since her graduation from Seton Hall University, and she still held her position as a drive-thru bank teller.  Not that there was anything wrong with being a teller, but it wasn’t Lena and it certainly wasn’t what her parents intended when they paid a substantial sum of money for Lena to get a degree in Television and Film Production. Of course the perfect job had come along months ago, but Vince made her turn it down.  A job as Production Assistant in New York City was God-sent, but it would have been selfish of Lena to accept a job that would take her away from Vince for too long.  So here was Lena, preparing for an interview as a Public Relations Coordinator at Northern New Jersey Cable Company.  Not exactly the exciting land of make-believe that the television world provided, but it was a nine-to-five position. And most importantly, it pacified Vince.

After hours of gazing at the ceiling fan going around and around, the repetition of the blades finally rendered her bored enough to drift into a dreamless slumber. A slumber, free from the horror of her previous nightmare. The buzzing of the alarm clock came much too soon. It jostled Lena from her sleep and left her staring into a brightly lit, sun-drenched room.

Her interview was in two hours, and she needed to pry her tired eyes open.  After ambling into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee from her Keurig, she took a couple sips and dragged herself into the shower with only the cold water running. The ice-cold stream of water held her only hope of manipulating her tired muscles after a restless night’s sleep.  Once the cold water shocked her system awake, Lena turned the knob to the left to allow hot water to cascade over her and melt her consternations away.

Absentmindedly massaging the shampoo into her scalp, Lena’s thoughts splashed back to last night’s harrowing dream.  Her sleep-induced vision of a teenage girl tied to her bedpost and beaten with a leather strap was frighteningly too real for Lena. She tried to shake the image from her mind but realized that there was something too familiar about the people in her dream.  Could the nightmare be a manifestation of unexpected events in Lena’s life? Or could the girl in her dreams be real? It was always the same girl – the same, familiar, cherubic face. But what about the boy?  In every dream or nightmare, the same boy stood watching. Eyes wide and mouth pinched, coming in and out of focus, he always ignored her plea for help.

The hot water had now run cold, bolting Lena out of her stupor.  There was no more time to analyze her nightmare; she needed to get to her interview.  She dried herself off, got herself a new cup of hot, steaming coffee, and sipped it while she looked over her resume. Once she let the coffee settle in her empty stomach, Lena went to her room to dress.  Her favorite navy-blue knee-length sailor dress, navy tights, and matching flats felt comfortable, but she still took one last look in the mirror.  The three-quarter length sleeves of her dress came just above the wrist, long enough to cover the bruises on her forearms.  She smiled.  Good.  No one would see them.  Then she decided to slide a thin, navy headband into her long, straight black hair to polish off the professional look.  She placed her hand over the half of a heart-shaped locket that hung from the gold chain around her neck, brought it to her lips, kissed it for good-luck, and dashed out the door into her electric-green Ford Focus. 

When she inserted the key into the ignition, she froze. Is this what she wanted? If they offered her the job, would she take it? It wasn’t a high-profile position or a foot-in-the-door to a television project, but it was in the P.R. department of the local cable company, and cable
was
an aspect of television.

There was that nagging notion in the back of her head though.  Was this job what
she
wanted?  Or was it what
Vince
wanted?  Lena always believed that things happened for a reason, but what if she ended up going against fate?  She hadn’t taken the position she really wanted; could she trust that it just wasn't meant to be?  Whatever was ahead for her, would it be her destiny to be there or would she be living a lie?

Rick Murphy sat in absolute darkness, like he did every night, attempting to summon up his past and reach the woman he left behind -the woman he hadn't the chance to save from the violent world in which she belonged.  His efforts to conjure up her image were mostly fruitless. Bits and pieces of memories from an expired life was all he had of her.  His heart felt as stark as the room he occupied.

It had been years since he’d allowed anyone access to his heart, vowing to love only the woman who bore possession of his soul.  He attempted to embrace other women, but none of those relationships had lasted.  Not one woman had lived up to the woman he'd left behind. Rick never intended to discard the affections of one of his lovers.  On the contrary. In the beginning of a courtship, Rick aspired to giving one hundred percent of himself to the new relationship. But although he was there in mind and body, his heart and soul were adrift somewhere in the past.

His memory never failed at recalling the pivotal moment when Angie reentered his life.  He was twelve years old.  He remembered it like it was yesterday, not twenty-five years ago.  It had been warm for early October. Rick recalled this ordinarily inconsequential fact, because on October 10, 1986 at exactly 9:36a.m. on his Swatch watch, Rick sensed an almost transcendent experience when, as he took a drag off his first cigarette, he felt an icy chill run up his spine.  At this same exact moment, a girl appeared sitting on a step that wasn’t there.  He was standing in the woods with three of his friends; all of them experimenting with their first cigarette and first time playing hooky from school.

“Did you guys just feel that?”  Rick asked his three coughing delinquent friends.

“Feel what?” One of them choked out.

“That cold wind that just blew through.”

But none of them had felt it.  And none of them saw the girl...or the step.

After that fall day of firsts, Rick would see the girl frequently but in his mind only.  The girl didn’t exist, yet suddenly she had a name.  Angie.  And Angie had become part of his life from that point forward.  At first, frightened by these images, Rick worried that something was very wrong with him.  But over the years he had become comforted by her presence, realizing that Angie
did
exist in his life.  Just not in
this
life.

In the dim room, Rick lit his fifth cigarette in the past hour, hoping to trigger a vision of Angie.  The familiar scent of burning nicotine and the smoky-sweet taste of the filterless rolled tobacco were the frequent catalysts to revisiting his precious illusions.  Rick had once made an effort to quit his unhealthy habit, but when he’d realized that Angie had dematerialized along with the absence of his Camel’s, he picked up his former catalytic vice without delay.  Tonight, however, he had not succeeded in reaching her.  Instead, he decided to raise the window shades and get himself ready for work.  He’d go about his day as he usually did, joylessly managing his headend and team of field technicians at NNJCC and hopelessly hungering for a love he could never have.

Lena thundered through the parking lot threateningly close to being late for her interview.  Spending too much time negotiating her future, her heart rate pumped at maximum pace.  Though she now ran late, she allowed herself exactly three deep breaths before timorously stepping out of her car. Lena shuttered. Pulling into the space behind her, a black Jeep Wrangler, with its roof and doors missing, blared Van Halen from its speakers. Though it was unseasonably warm, Lena questioned why someone would have the roof off so early in the Spring. She assumed that was more of a Summer thing. But she soon stopped thinking anything when she saw the man who drove the Wrangler. Ambling out of the Jeep and through the lot was the most gorgeous dark-haired man she had ever seen.  As he meandered toward her, Lena noticed the auburn sheen that glazed his thick, wavy brown hair and she couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his bright green eyes, reminiscent of brilliant emerald stones.  Already jumpy due to interview jitters, Lena was now on the verge of excitability.  “Calm, Lena.  Remain calm.”  Lena was in the habit of talking to herself when she was frightened or nervous. 
Just shut the car door, and walk confidently into the building.
  Lena kept up her pep-talk, but when she so calmly closed her car door, she
slammed
it shut…on her hand.

“Ouch,” said an unfamiliar baritone voice.  “That could
not
have felt good.”

Lena turned to see him.  The guy in the Wrangler.
Oh how humiliating
.  Here was this gorgeous man, with dreamy eyes, staring at her...and laughing. Laughing
at
her?  Probably.  But oh those dimples.  And that body – tall, lean, muscular, heavenly. His polo shirt fit just snug enough to hug those sinewy pecs.  Oh my goodness, what was she thinking? 

Her face flushed when she realized he had been still standing there in front of her waiting to hear if she was all right.  She timidly filled him in.  “Oh I’m okay, it’s fine.”

She noticed his reaction when his eyes met hers.  He narrowed them as if trying to recall something and hesitated before speaking again.  Wrangler let out an almost imperceptible sigh when he smiled back at her.  “Let me take you inside.  I’ll get you an ice pack from the kitchen.”

“No, really,” Lena replied, “I’m fine.  Uh, I’ll be fine.”  She shook her head.  “I…uh…,” she didn’t even know what she wanted to say.  This man made her fluster, and she couldn’t understand why.

“Okay.  I hope your hand doesn’t hurt too much,” he gave a resigning smile as he held his gaze on her – an intense, electrifying gaze.

Lena was the first to break the awkward staring contest. “Uh, really, I, uh…need to get going.” She felt his eyes follow her as she paced into the building.

While she sat in the waiting area for Dan Shoup, the PR Director, to come and escort her to his office, she couldn’t help but think of the man she saw in the parking lot.  Wrangler.  Her face felt warm, and she was embarrassed by her own thoughts.  She shouldn’t be thinking about another man.  She was engaged to marry Vince next October.  Lena’s father had already spent so much money on the down payment for The Brownstone House.  She’d always dreamed of having her wedding reception in the old Brownstone House in Paterson, and her father made sure she would realize that dream.  Not to mention the two thousand dollars he spent on her vintage gown. Lena tried to switch her thoughts from the dreamy man she just met outside.  Since she didn’t want to get herself more nervous by going over her interview questions for the hundredth or so time, she thought about when she’d first started going out with Vince.  She tried to conjure up good thoughts, like when he first came to her house to meet her parents, and he came bearing the ingredients to make ice cream sundaes.  He had told her afterwards that he knew it would be a good icebreaker.  She remembered how happy she felt at that moment. How thoughtful he had been.  Vince was a Battaglia.  His family owned numerous shopping centers, and their financial weight in the Borough of Haledon was substantial.  Lena wasn’t too impressed with money, having grown up in an equally prominent family. Her family owned several liquor stores, one of them, the most popular in Haledon.  But she’d taken notice of Vince when she had seen him around town, and he seemed like a nice guy. So when he’d asked her out on a date, she’d said yes immediately.  However, her thoughts turned as ice cold as the ice-cream Vince had brought that day when she couldn’t help but recall the emotional pain of the first time she had sex with him.  Lena had never intended to ‘go all the way.’  She knew her parents expected her to wait until she was married before being intimate with a man, and that is what Lena had intended to do.  Vince was more experienced when it came to physical intimacies, so she understood that waiting would be hard for him.  But Vince never believed Lena when she had told him she was still a virgin.  He said he couldn’t comprehend how in this day and age someone would actually wait until his or her wedding night to have sex. 

So on this particular night, Vince thought he would go further than their usual ‘second base.’  They were stretched out on his bed, side by side.  He gently slid his hand under her skirt and touched the inside of her thigh.  Although it felt kind of nice, Lena took his hand away from beneath her skirt. She knew where it would lead, and she wasn’t ready yet.  Vince pulled away, looked into Lena’s eyes, and gave her one of his seductive smiles.  He moved closer so that he was on top of her and kissed her aggressively.  Once again, Vince lifted up her skirt, slid his hand underneath, and pulled aside her panties.  She put her hand on his arm to pull his hand away, but in the next instant, he turned rough, pushing open her thighs and forcing himself inside of her.  Lena pushed Vince off of her and sat stunned in front of him.

“How…could you…do that…to me?…You knew I wanted to wait,” Lena choked back her tears.

Vince had a smirk on his face when he saw the blood on his sheets.  “Wow, I guess you weren’t lying,” was his only response.

Lena walked out that night wondering how she could trust Vince again. How could she date someone, let alone marry someone, who could think so little of what he did?  He had violated her most private wishes.  An elephant felt like it had landed on her chest, thinking about what she would face in the morning. Would her parents be able to tell?  And how would she be able to look in the mirror and stare at a girl who had lost her innocence?  She would never ever get it back again.

That night, Lena vowed she would end her engagement to Vince.  At that moment, she had hated him for taking away her virginity before she was ready.  She no longer wanted anything to do with him, but could she find the confidence to walk away?

The next day, however, Vince came to her apartment to apologize, and as was always the case, Lena forgave him, even though it was never really an apology.  She remembered it as if it were yesterday.

“Lena, baby,” he took her in his arms and looked her in the eyes.  “I know I should have asked you first if you wanted to have sex, but I really thought you did.  I am sorry, baby.  Really.  I misunderstand you sometimes, that’s all.  Next time, be more assertive with me so I know.”

Lena tried to think of what to say, but no words came to her mind.

Vince continued on, “Listen, Lena, I said I was sorry.  Really."

She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away.  “You’re always sorry, Vinnie, but...,” Lena trailed off, not knowing where to go with this.

Vince threw his hands up in the air then punched her wall, leaving a gaping hole the size of an orange in the sheet rock.

“Vince.”

“Oh shut it, Lena,” he was yelling now. “I’m not the only one in the wrong here. 
You
walked out on
me
last night.  We make love for the first time, and then you take off.”  His voice lowered to almost a whisper.  “How do you think that made
me
feel?  I was so happy to finally show you how much I love you.  I have feelings too, Lena.  You’re my goddamn fiancé; I should be able to make love to you.”  Vince languidly sat on the couch and put his head in his hands.  Lena saw his shoulders twitch and thought maybe he was crying.

Lena watched him for a moment.  Make love for the first time?  Is that what he called it?  Was that really how making love felt?  Forced and full of pain?  But Lena saw him quivering like a baby and thought,
maybe he did misinterpret her intentions
.  Maybe she wasn’t clear enough when she told him she had wanted to wait until their wedding date.  She shrugged to herself and walked over to Vince on the couch.  “I’m sorry, Vince, I shouldn’t have walked out.”

Vince lifted his head and looked at Lena with his usual smugness.  His eyes were completely dry.  “Thanks, babe.  Let’s put this behind us, okay?”  Vince held his arms out for Lena.  She sat on the couch next to him and let him hold her, but she wasn’t able to fall effortlessly into his arms.  He had forced a wedge between them so deep that Lena imagined it would be impossible for her to ever feel the same towards him.  Outwardly, their relationship went back to the way things were, but Lena’s heart had turned hollow.  A part of her had died that night.  Vince had raped her of her innocence, but feeling lower than ever, Lena allowed Vince to take her over and over again from then on.  She had lost the will to fight him on it and, in the end, lost her self-esteem as well.  Over time, Lena had begun to feel as if she were just going through the motions of someone else’s life.

Prompting her from her trance was the receptionist.  “Mr. Shoup is ready to see you now.  Please come with me, Ms. Giordano.”  Lena picked up her briefcase and purse to follow the woman to the elevator.  “Mr. Shoup’s office is the first office to the left of the elevator on the second floor.”

Lena had thanked the woman and continued on to her interview.

Dan Shoup had hired Lena on the spot.  He knew immediately that she would be perfect for the position of Public Relations’ Coordinator.  Dan had admitted that Lena’s Seton Hall University education and her character and disposition were perfect for what he was looking for.  Lena would be able to use her writing skills to prepare newsletters and press announcements, and she would use her bubbly personality at the many functions she would be coordinating for the town officials and local cable channels.  Dan welcomed Lena to his PR team and hoped she’d be as happy at NNJCC as he was to have her there.

***********

Rick sat in his office staring blankly into the television screen that hung from the wall in front of him.  He had so much paperwork he needed to finish, but he could not stop thinking about the girl he met in the parking lot.  At first he just thought she was another pretty, petite brunette, but when she’d turned in his direction, her beauty awed him. Her flawless, olive skin and her perky nose that drew attention to her heart-shaped lips were breathtaking. The little sailor dress she had on fit her tiny frame perfectly. And she had a refreshingly wholesome manner about her.

Rick had no idea why she was here.  He knew she didn’t work at the cable company; he would have certainly remembered seeing her walking around the building.  She could have been a customer, but he had hoped not, considering he probably would never encounter her again if that were the case.  Maybe a job interview?  That would be awesome.  He’d have to ask around to see if any positions were open.  Damn.  He should have gotten her name, then he could somehow find her.  He needed to find her.