Unforgettable

Most journeys are measured in miles. My longest journey began and ended in
the moment my parents died in an auto accident… In that moment, I left
childhood behind and clawed my way up to adult status. At least I tried to. Lisa
wasn’t home, and the three younger kids ran to me first on that terrible, life-
changing day. I held them close while we waited, and they clung to me like
babies to their mother. They were too little to know that I was a baby, too.
They’d needed her! Needed her to survive. No wonder she felt guilty leaving
them. She continued reading.
Although the distance between Woodhaven and Boston is one- hundred miles, I
measure my journey in light years. The wounds of childhood still bleed and my
journey continues.
She sat on the edge of her bed and re-read the last line. Her journey had
continued and would continue. An exciting future beckoned. All she needed was
to take that leap of faith with Doug. She browsed other essays. Geez, she’d been
a mess. Why had Doug ever befriended her? What had he seen?
Laughter rose. The guy had already taken his leap of faith—with her!
She walked back into the living room and brushed her hand once more over her
parents’ portrait. “Thanks for the advice, Mom and Dad. It feels right.”
##
“I slept on the plane, so now all I need is a quick shower and I’ll go to work.”
Jen could have stayed in his arms for the entire day, but she was dressed and
ready to leave the apartment.
“We’ll talk tonight,” said Doug. “I hope you’ll be happy.”
“I hope we’ll both be happy.” She kissed him on the cheek and ran out the door.

---

“Don’t want to be late.”
But she was late getting home that night. Doug had been cool with the delay
when she’d warned him about it on the phone, and Jen had wondered about that.
But as soon as she walked through the apartment door, she understood.
A white cloth and candles dressed the kitchen table. A wine glass sparkled at
each place setting.
“As they say, timing is everything,” said Doug, bending to kiss her. “You
couldn’t have chosen a better day to be delayed.”
“What are we celebrating?” she asked, waving at the table, her heart beating fast.
“A new job in Hollywood?”
He took a step and stared at her. “Not exactly. Unless you change my mind.”
“I don’t understand.”
He poured the wine and handed her a glass. “A toast to you. To us.” He raised
his glass and she tapped it with hers.
“Yes. Definitely.” She took a sip. “Now sit down and talk to me. Our phone
conversations left me hanging. So if you don’t want curiosity to kill this cat...”
His laughter rang out. “Never. First off, the meetings went well. George liked the
play, and the studio is thinking about an option. I never would have gotten that
far without Steve’s connection to George. The man has clout. He’s got a good
eye for a story.”
“Maybe he’s a frustrated writer. Regardless, he’s smart. He loved your work, and
I’m not surprised.” She beamed at him.
“Save that smile for later!” He kissed her quickly on the mouth. “The big thing
is, Jen, if it happens—and this is the part you’ll really like—the money I’d earn
—well…with your investment savvy, you’d never worry about money again—
even while married to a writer.”
All humor faded. Her hands trembled, and she put her glass down. “But I’m not
worried at all…”

---

He waved her words away. “There’s other good stuff—like seeing my script
transformed onto the big screen. Going to an opening…”
“Stop, Doug. Just stop. All this—this ‘good stuff’ as you say, doesn’t match the
expression on your face. You look worried. Unhappy. So I’ll put you out of your
misery. I think it’s great. I’ll go. I won’t argue.”
He stared at her incredulously and emitted a bark of laughter. “You’ll go?”
“I said so.”
He came around to her where she sat, grabbed another chair and took her hands.
“Why?”
She felt the heat rise to her neck ad face. “I figured a few things out while you
were gone.” Her voice caught. “I figured out that the kids don’t need me like
they used to. More important, I discovered that home—our home—is wherever
we are together.” She leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his neck and
kissed him with a renewed hunger. “You’ve always been the one.” She tilted her
head back and saw him blink quickly, his eyes moist.
“I am the luckiest man in the world.” His voice was hoarse. “I love you, my
Henny-Penny, from deep down in here.” He tapped the left side of his chest.
“I know,” she whispered, then sat up straight. “Now that we’ve got that resolved,
let’s plan. Hmm…we’ll probably stay put until the end of the semester. When do
you think I should give my notice?”
He kissed her palm, then each of her fingers. “You don’t.”
“What? Can you work from home? Or commute on the red-eye? That would be
great.”
He rose and started pacing. “I didn’t say that, but I also figured a few things out
during the last several days.” He sighed a deep sigh. “I-I guess it was a
significant trip.”
She took another sip of wine and waited.
“They-they really liked my work. They knew about The Sanctuary,  too.” He

---

paused and took her hands. “And they talked to me about emulating Neil
Simon.”
She gulped, the wine almost choking her. “Plays and movies, New York and Los
Angeles? That  Neil Simon?”
He gave a sharp nod. “Yeah. The man who has a Broadway theater named for
him.”
“What a compliment! You should have been flattered.”
“Frankly, I was overwhelmed. And a little uncomfortable. There are a thousand
writers in L.A. who’d kill for a chance like that. Why me?”
“Because the other guys didn’t write your script.”
He was silent for a moment. “Yeah. The script. I need to tell you about the
script.”
“Okay. I’m listening.”
He rubbed his hands together, started to explain, stopped, and started again. “The
love story is based on us, Jen.”
Sucker punched. “What do you mean, based on us? On what happened to my
family with Lisa and Mike and the Riders…?”
But he was shaking his head. “Of course not. I fictionalized the family and the
background. The only part that’s true is the accident. If you don’t like it…then it
goes in the closet. I wrote it in New York, before I moved back. But if it gets
produced anywhere, I want to have control over it. And I won’t have that in
Hollywood. A movie is truly a group effort.”
He cleared his throat. “So, in the end, Jen, I turned them down. And I hope
you’re not upset about, you know… the money part.”
Drowning. In over her head. The only thing she could think to ask was, “What
did you call the story?”
He coughed. Squirmed a bit. “I-I hope you’ll understand. The complete title is:

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Straight from the Heart: A Love Story in Search of an Ending.”
“Oh-h...” Of course, it fell into place. She squeezed her eyes shut and pictured
Doug, living in New York, writing, tending bar, thinking about her. Not
knowing, just hoping. Praying.
Standing on shaky legs, she stepped forward and caressed his cheeks. “Our love
story began and will continue right here. As for Hollywood? Maybe next time,
everything will work out.”
His kiss was strong, sure and bold. “Raise your glass,” he said. “Here’s to our
future—the Delany-Collins branch of the family.”
“To new beginnings,” she added, “and a never-boring, adventurous life—with
the right person.”
A leap of faith.  She nodded toward the portrait in the living room and smiled.
THE END

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