The Morbid and Sultry Tales of Genevieve Clare (31 page)

“Just wait, baby.”

“Say go,” I urged. I couldn’t stand it. I had to get to him.

“I love you, Gen.”

“I’m a fast runner.”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I’ll say it when I get there.”

“Genevieve…”

“If I say it, I’ll get hit. You have to wait for it. Tell me when to go, Ahren.”

“Listen to me, Gen,” his voice urgent. “You’re safe. The cops are on their way, the traffic is slowing down and I’m going to come to you.”

“I can’t… ” I shook my head. “I have to get out of here,” I panicked.

“You can because I’m gonna be there just as soon as I can.”

His voice was calm, completely relaxed. I closed my eyes tight to all the sounds around me: the sirens I could hear in the distance, the woman in the car behind me yelling at me to just stand still.

“Gen… this isn’t my day or yours to go BASE jumping. Do you trust me?” He asked.

I squeezed my eyes harder, tears streaming down my face.

“We trust you,” I said and closed my arms tight around my belly and waited.

And suddenly, he was there.

            He held my shaking body tight as we waited. The sirens grew closer and Ahren wrapped me in the safety of his arms.

“Are you okay?” This was the police officer that was escorting us to the side of the freeway.

“Yeah,” Ahren replied.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, Ahren. I’m sorry. I love you. Did I tell you that yet? I fucking love you. Not a little bit, a whole lot. Like big, big love. I will never not listen to you again.”

He turned his attention to me and said, “I dreamed of this. I didn’t know it until right now. A dream you never quite wake up from. It stays with you like a dark cloud, and now, I know. It was a warning to me, to us. We can’t stop life. I know that. Shit happens, baby. But if I ever get that feeling again, I know it’s them looking out for us. I asked them all to keep you safe, and they did, as best they could. We just have to make sure we’re always listening.”

I nodded through my tears and heard nothing around us. Ahren’s hands sifted through my hair. Cones and flares had been set up; the lookiloos from the bridge were now slowed to see what was happening.

Then I remembered.

“Ask them to get my dress. I’m getting married tomorrow and there is no way in hell I’m going back to that car. Ever.”

“Sorry, we had to take it out of the bag, The hanger was stuck on somethin’,” I heard a man say and looked up to see miles of green velvet and tulle swirling around him. “Guys are bringin’ a box with a froofy thing and some shoes. Thought you might not want to leave this in the car. Anything else you want out of there? Your purse is on its way, too.”

I turned to Ahren and whispered. “You saw the dress.”

“It’s not plaid,” he remarked.

“Rocky’s dress is plaid.”

“It’s perfect,” he said softly. “Just like you described when you were a kid.”

“Yep.”

“And you kept your promise.”

I had no idea what he was referring to. “I did?”

“I asked you never to change. The night I kissed you. Thanks for keeping your promise, Genevieve.”

Christmas Eve, I was laced into my gown by Rocky.

“Perfect,” she stated proudly. She’d left plenty of “growing room” to accommodate my changing body. The long velveteen sleeves came to a bell at the wrist. The square neckline was just low enough to show cleavage, tasteful, not slut-obvious like some gowns. The eyelet back came together with chartreuse satin ribbon that began at the top and tied into a neat bow, hidden by the bustle at the back.

The vision of my dress, a dream from when I was a little girl, had been truly realized when Rocky and I watched Bram Stoker’s Dracula and drooled over Winona Ryder’s wardrobe. My dress was like Mina’s dress when she had dinner with the über hot Gary Oldman. We later decided the film was all about clothes, dramatic music, and finding ways to insert the word “dude” after any of Keanu Reeves’ dialogue.

The latter became an excellent drinking game.

I felt Rocky behind me, but she hadn’t moved or spoken. I was remembering how I showed my mom Mina’s dress and she’d said, “Anything but red,” with a grin.

“Rocky?” I asked without turning around.

“Yeah?” she replied, her voice hoarse.

“Thanks.”

As Rocky continued her last minute fussing, smoothing the fabric behind me, I realized it was only the two of us in the room. She didn’t turn around, but she did start talking.

“Remember when we saw Dracula and you were all about Mina’s red dress? You went on and on, ‘Just like that, but green.’ I hope I did your dream justice.”

“Rocky?” I didn’t turn either. I waited, giving her time. “Rochelle,” I began softly. “Thanks for being my best friend.”

“Dude,” she whispered. She took my hand and squeezed, then finally stood in front of me, a beautiful vision in plaid. Her dress was almost identical to mine in style, with a shorter train. She looked fantastic. “I love you, Gen.”

Our highly charged emotional moment was interrupted by Jimmy, who had rapped lightly at the back door.

“Ladies?” He smiled warmly. “Sorry, but we have some folks getting antsy out there.”

Jimmy offered me his arm as Rocky placed a bouquet of white flowers with holly leaves and berries in my right hand.

From that moment, it was just Ahren and me.

Everyone was there in spirit. I knew it and I felt it. Seeing the look on Ahren’s face when he came down the steps of our front porch to meet me, I knew they all had a hand in getting us right where we were.

I imagined the cemetery at Eden Hills bustling with apparition activity. Ahren had overseen all the decorations. A large tent was erected to the front left of the house where the DJ, tables, buffet, and dancing were held. The house was open, with waiters floating around with trays of hors d’ouevres and glasses of champagne.

When I walked down the aisle on Jimmy’s arm, my heart fluttered to not only see Ahren, so handsome in his Mr. Darcy evening suit with Finnegan tartan vest and ascot, but also that he’d covered the grounds with a light dusting of snow. I wasn’t sure what it was made of, but it brought a sense of magic to the whole thing and made me feel like a princess. The house was decorated with hundreds of tiny white lights, and the picture window of our living room was taken up by an enormous tree with ornaments belonging to both our families taken out of storage.

During the reception, we took five plates of little cupcakes and five glasses of champagne over to the graves of Genevieve Ryan Clare, Elaine Rachel McGinn-Clare and Robert Harris Clare…not to mention, I knew they would have guests of Marilyn “Mare” Oskin and Bryce Franklin Oskin. I’d held onto my tears the entire day and night, but it was then that they finally flowed. Ahren held me close to him, knowing these tears were bittersweet. I would have loved nothing more than to have my family there, alive, sharing the celebration, and that included Bryce and his wife.

When the last of our guests left, Ahren unbuttoned his shirt, took me by the hand, and led me toward the river. Ahren had completely revamped the old dock that had rotted into the riverbank, covered in overgrowth of trees. There was one post with a lantern to illuminate our path, and tied to the end of the doc was Ahren’s canoe. Another smaller lantern hung from a pole, and drifting in the water behind it was a white, floral garland with a little sign that said Just Married.

He took my hand and helped me into the boat, where we made our way down the river to our cabin.

****

“Birth, Marriage, and Death. With those three businesses, you cannot go wrong. Everyone experiences two out of three.” These were my words to my husband on Christmas Day, our first day as husband and wife.

Ahren was putting elbow pads on me. He dug around in the suitcase, which seemed to have all sorts of goodies packed inside, and stood on the end of the bed, naked, semi-erect, and delicious.

In response to my statement about business, he said, “And everyone needs a place to live.”

“If Taylor ever says it again, I’ll be sure to throw that in.” I looked at my naked body—save the protective gear—and said, “I love you, but can you just, you know, stop teasing me?”

“You think I’m teasing you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m protecting you from yourself.”

“Huh?”

After he finished securing the elbow pads, he went to the suitcase and pulled out knee pads.

“What exactly do you think we’ll be doing that I need all of this… stuff?”

He only laughed and secured the Velcro before returning to the bag. I laid my head on the pillow and started to laugh.

“Close your eyes, baby.”

I did as I was told and felt him put something on top of my head.

“What is that?” I opened my eyes to see Ahren had a camera aimed at me, and before I could argue, the flash went off.

“We’re making memories.” He grinned.

“And what exactly is this picture going to be captioned? You know, the one we won’t be able to put into any kind of family album?”

He put the camera on the side of the bed and laid his tall, beautiful body over mine. His lips at my mouth, he said, “It’ll be called, ‘I took precautions to protect my wife so I could fuck her hard on our honeymoon and nothing bad would happen.’ For instance, if the ceiling falls or a freak tornado rips through the Russian River area of Northern California.”

Oh. My. God.

He smiled and breathed his next words over my skin while his lips moved down my neck. “And what would my well-protected wife like first?” He moved his cock over my sex and kept it at my opening. “My cock or my mouth?”

“Whatever you want to do, I’ll be happy.” I had goosebumps everywhere as he nipped my earlobe between his teeth and dragged his warm lips behind it.

“Rocky and Cos have the office covered for three weeks,” he reminded me.

“Well then, seeing as we have some time to kill, how about your cock, then your mouth, then your mouth some more, then your cock, and then how about I put all of this on you and take your picture.”

He lifted his head and met my eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Did you really think I would say no to you?”

“Now that you mention it, no.”

One look, one kiss, I was ready for him. In one fluid movement, he pushed inside me. His chin lifted up as he went deep and stayed there with a slow grind.

I would remember that moment forever. Not because of the silly outfit he made me wear or the fantastic sex that followed. It was because of his words that followed.

When our daughter, Aine was born, he said the same thing. When our son, Adam was born, again, the same, and when baby Lachlan was born and I said, “I love you,” he repeated the same words he said to me on our first day as husband and wife…

“Baby, you don’t even need to say the words. I can feel them. I can feel them every time you touch me. Every time you smile at me. I know, Gen. I absolutely know.”

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

With every story I write, there’s always a little bit of me in each one. Those of you that know me, understand my fascination of the dark and morbid, and I’m sure you’ll be surprised that I held back. I wrote this book for myself, so to the people who believed in the melancholy me and encouraged me to write this story, thank you!

To MK Harkins, Karen Harper, Nancy Thompson … ladies, THANK YOU! BJ Harvey, Sandy Roman Borrero, Lissette De La Hoz, Tina Gephart, Melanie Lowery, Mara de Guzman, Becca Manuel, Coleen Ritter Garvey, Lisa Schilling Hintz, Kellie Catanese, Jaye Pamment, Kimberly Muresan , Kendra Hartnett and I’m sure a bunch of other people I’m forgetting… THANK YOU!

A special thanks to Charles Rios for his assistance in my funeral industry questions.

Louisa at LM Creations for the awesome cover!

I’ve endeavoured to make the cremation and burial descriptions as realistic as possible without freaking anyone out too much. As much as I would love to have Genevieve’s job, I am aware that there are rules and regulations that change from state to state and continent to continent. This is a work of fiction and though I’ve take artistic license throughout the book, I have tried to keep it real…

Except for that case in California. That actually happened.