A Short Story, Final

I drove, sticking to the speed limit wishing it was faster. It seemed like forever before I got there. I slowed at the end of the street, glanced in the mirror. The tired face was overshadowed by the excitement in my brown eyes. It wasn’t so bad being a wife, a mother. I’m still Alice.

I walked up the front steps and after a deep breath knocked, my bag at my feet. Michael opened the door and I was swamped with the love I’d felt on our wedding day, on the births of our children.

“Alice. God, you’re okay.” I held tight to him, my pillar of strength and felt him shudder even as I drew in the scent, the familiarity of him. I may not have done the right thing in leaving, but I’d done the right thing in coming back. Tears and squeals of joy surrounded me as our children ran to embrace me.

“I love you. I’m sorry.”

Michael kissed me and pulled me into the house. “None of that now. Later.” He beamed through his tears and I saw a man I’d never seen before. He loved me enough to welcome me back unquestioned, certain of my responding love and fidelity.

I know now that I am Alice. I may not know exactly who Alice is, but I know I am a wife and mother. I am loved. I love. The rest will come later.

End

Kerrin Hearfield

A Short Story, Part 5

“They don’t know.” I knew by his tone he wasn’t judging me. Perhaps it was part of his job or it could be because he knew me once upon a time.
“No.” The guilt speared me and I sat on the floor. “I just left. He took the kids for a walk so I could have a sleep in. I just left.” He said nothing while I wept.
Handing me a flannel he helped me to the chair once I’d reduced the torrent to a sniffle.
“Are you leaving them?”
“No. No. I just want some time for me. To remember who I am. I don’t want to be just a wife, a mother.”
“You have to go back. Tell him. Sort it out.”
“Not today. Will you stay with me today, please?” I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. “Why didn’t you take advantage of this last night?”
He knew I was talking about the shared suite. “You didn’t want to. I knew something was up and wanted you to be sure. You’re married. You love him, them. You’re just confused.”
We ordered room service and got dressed.
“I’m going south in the morning. Another job.”
I nodded glancing at the photo of my family in my wallet.
“You’re a wife, a mother.” He grabbed me gently by the shoulders. “That is a gift. Talk to him. If he loves you he’ll understand and want to help you.”
“You don’t think he’d be angry and upset I left?” I doubted he’d take me back so easily after disappearing for a weekend.
Dan laughed. “You won’t be that lucky. Of course he will. But he’ll be relieved you came back. That you’re okay.”
I wasn’t so sure. I know I would never forgive myself for just leaving. Dan was right. I should have spoken with Michael. Anything would have been better than just leaving. Suddenly I knew I had to get back. Right now.
He saw it in my face. “Go. They need you. You’ll be okay, Alice.”

Kerrin Hearfield

A Short Story, Part 4

Closing the door to the room I felt uneasy. I love my husband. I left to find myself, not share a room with a past love.
We’d agreed to share a double room suite for the weekend. It was cheaper than two single rooms. I hoped he wasn’t expecting us to pick up where we’d left off in college. I worried my wedding ring on my right hand, as I watched him open his case.
I needn’t have worried. With a warm kiss he shut the door between our rooms and I slept alone. Of course I dreamed of them. The first kiss with Michael. Our wedding day. The first time I gazed on my beautiful children. The looks shared with Michael as they said their first words, took their first steps.
I woke with wet cheeks and Dan sitting in the chair across the room. My photo books were open on the table in front of him.
“You’re married. Have three kids.”
“Yes. Ten years in February. Caleb is seven, Jennifer and Elizabeth, five.” I sat and traced a finger over the photo of Caleb holding his newborn twin sisters with the help of his proud dad.
“Where are they?”
“At home.” I walked to the window and gazed at the people rushing by on the street, arms laden with shopping bags. “I love Michael, my children. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m a wife, mother. But who’s Alice? My life is totally defined by what I am and I want to be me. I don’t know who I am.”

Kerrin Hearfield

A Short Story, Part 3

We shared a dinner in the hotel bar, now crowded and warm. Dan filled the gaps from the last time I saw him until now as we ate.
“I’m between jobs. Taking a break you know?” I did know. “Private Investigator. Just finished a job up North. Husband couldn’t find his wife.” I choked on my pasta. “Poor man. She didn’t want to come back when I found her. Shame. He was a nice bloke.”
Michael was a nice bloke. Loving, attentive, solid. Why am I here?
He paid for dinner. I’d insisted I could pay my own but was glad he’d held firm. The three thousand on my credit card wasn’t going to last too long. I didn’t know who long I’d be away or how much money I’d need.
We strolled down the side walk bathed in the bright lights doing their best to caste away the black night, and stopped at a fountain lit like fairy dust. Jenny and Beth would have been delighted. Caleb would have said it was boring but I know he would have liked it too. I turned to smile at my husband but the hair, eyes, everything was wrong.
If Dan noticed my confusion he didn’t mention it just took my suddenly cold hand in his warm one and we continued down the busy street. At the bridge overlooking the river he drew me close and I burrowed into his warm jacket accepting the comfort I hadn’t realised I craved. His body felt wrong.
“We should go back. You’re tired.”
I nodded pleased and we made our way slowly back, with me tucked under his arm.

A Short Story, Part 2

Here continues my short story:

I sat at a tiny table in the corner of the hotel bar, nursing a glass of now warm chardonnay. It’s 5:30pm. I’d been gone for eight hours. I wondered how the kids were doing. Did Michael remember that Jenny hated peas and Beth didn’t like her food touching anything else on her plate? Memories and doubts filled my head. Why did I leave without saying goodbye? Why didn’t I talk to him first? Maybe he would have understood and I wouldn’t have had to run away like a thief, could have been sitting here without the guilt just having a little holiday. Why don’t I know who I am anymore? Something must be wrong with me to have just left them. Tears fell unchecked and through the watery blur a familiar voice penetrated my mind.

“Alice?”

“Dan.” I wiped my face quickly and smiled at my first boyfriend, the one I’d given my innocence to and had fallen in love with in the last year of college.

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in, God it must be years.”

“College, Seventh Form.”

He nodded and took the seat opposite me, sprawling his long legs out the side of the table. If he saw the tears he said nothing.

“What have you been up to?” He swallowed a mouthful of beer and smacked his lips in appreciation.

“Nothing much.” Got married. Had three beautiful children.

Kerrin Hearfield

Any comments or advice on content is much appreciated.

A Short Story, Part 1

I'm a mother and sometimes it can be overwhelming. What if I just got up one day and left? I never could, but this character does. Why does she feel she had to leave and will she go back?

I left on Saturday in the morning not long after they had gone out. I stuffed essentials into a backpack; clothes, shoes, make-up, toiletries, passport, my favourite books, everything I held dear. Even the photo books I had created.

I spent long minutes running my hands over the warm sheets in the little beds, could hear the snuffles and snorts of the children - my children - in my head as I traced their small indents. I held a toy or two and let the tears fall. It was the hardest thing I’d ever done. In less than thirty minutes from the time my husband took the kids out for the morning I packed and left like a thief.

I drove for hours, through the bright morning until the sun was hot and high. They would be back now. After a quick study he’d think maybe I’d gone for a little drive or shopping. I’d left my cell-phone behind. He’d soon realise I wasn’t coming back.

Kerrin Hearfield

come back for the next installment!