Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts

Sunday, May 17, 2015

You can't write 52 shitty stories - Alonzo's story

Alonzo’s Story

Kathleen knew it was going to be a disaster.  Trying her positive reasoning on herself, she whispered,  “It will be fine.  It is just the first meeting, everyone will get over it and life will go on.”

“This too shall pass.”  She added as they crossed the street to Sullivan’s Bar.

“What did you say?”  Hearing his deep melodic voice, Kathleen lost her train of thought.

“Mmmm?” she loved looking at his curly black hair, her hand almost touching it, confirming it was as soft as it looked.  His dark brown eyes sparkled, Kathleen warning herself to not get caught up in them.

“You said something?”  Alonzo smiled at her, his even white teeth bright against his dark skin, his hand wrapped around Kathleen’s, the warmth making her cheeks turn red.

“Oh, nothing, I was just talking to myself.” They stopped in front of the bar, holding hands.  “We don’t have to go in here if you don’t want to?” Kathleen half said to herself.

Alonzo turned to his girlfriend, taking both of her hands, looking deep into her eyes.  “My Kathleen, we are here.  What would we tell your family if we invited them to drinks but we didn’t show up? I don’t think that would be a very good first impression for me?  I am trying to impress the family, you know.”  He leaned forward, kissing her on the lips, lingering for a moment, knowing exactly how to drive her distraction.

Kathleen pulled back, her fingers lightly touching her lips, he did have a talent of making her forget everything.  This time it was difficult forgetting her family, knowing they were in the bar, watching the football game, drinking beer, contemplating her new lover coming to meet them.  Poor Alonzo had so many other things against him besides his young age.  Her family was going to crucify him.  Grabbing Alonzo’s hand, Kathleen pulled him away from the front of Sullivan’s bar, into the side alley.  Pushing him up against the wall, she tried her hand at distraction, kissing him hard, molding her body against him.  Pushing aside the scenario playing out in her head as her family met Alonzo, she went with the moment, enjoying his hands as they slid around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Alonzo abruptly ended the kiss, putting Kathleen away from him, his hands moving from her waist to her shoulders.  “You thought you could distract me.  As much as I would like to explore this more, I am going to meet your family.”

Looking at Alonzo, Kathleen sighed.  There were so many reasons they should not be together, age just one of them.  For some reason he didn’t listen to any of them, his kisses making her forget all the reasons and coming back for more.  “You know that I’ve grown up in a pretty traditional Irish Catholic family.”

Alonzo smiled, Kathleen melted.  “I am Catholic too, so there is something in common.”

Kathleen sighed, he was so optimistic.  “It’s not the Catholic thing that may bother them.”

“My mother prays the rosary every day.  They will like that we are the same religion.”  Alonzo said.

“It’s not that.  You see,” Kathleen paused, taking in his amazing tanned skin, the tight white t-shirt accentuating every muscle, not to mention different parts of his body accentuated by his tight black jeans.  He looked so dangerous, but was so sweet.  “They’ve been looking for a nice boy for me for a while.”

Kissing her lightly on the lips, Alonzo brushed a piece of hair behind her ear, “I am a nice boy.  I go to church.  I have a job.  I respect you.  What else makes a nice boy?”

Figuring she wasn’t going to add “Irish” to the list , he’d find that out soon enough, Kathleen shrugged, “Let’s go meet them, OK?” .

The inside of the bar was busy, a usual crowd for a Thursday night.  Kathleen could hear her brother’s shout immediately, damning herself for putting Alonzo in the middle of insanity.  His light touch on the small of her back warmed her cheeks as they moved through the crowd to a table in the back of the bar, close enough to the TV.  Noticing her family brought her grandmother along, Kathleen contemplating turning and running away.  Alonzo’s warm hand covered hers, she heard determination in his voice.  “It will be a nice family get together.”

Figuring she might as well get the show on the road, Kathleen pulled Alonzo over to the table, holding his hand, wondering if she was hurting him.  Everyone was in mid argument, her father and brother screaming at the TV over the ref’s call, her grandmother, mother and sister arguing how much they knew about Kathleen’s new boyfriend.

“Mom, Patty, Nana, this my boyfriend Alonzo.”  Kathleen felt like she was standing in front of a firing squad.

Everyone at the table went silent, all eyes moving from Kathleen to the handsome young Italian man standing next to her with a brilliant smile on his face.  Immediately crossing herself, Kathleen’s grandmother whispered, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, where are all the Irish boys?”

Kathleen wanted to hiss, “Get your jaws off the table, this is embarrassing!”  She knew Alonzo was slightly younger than her, but did they have to act that ridiculous?  Turning to her boyfriend, Kathleen shrugged toward her dumbfounded family, saying, “I’m sorry.”

Ignoring her, Alonzo moved toward the table, taking Kathleen’s father, Buddy’s hand, shaking it vigorously.  “I am so glad to meet Kathleen’s family.  She tells me so many good things about you.”

“I’ll bet she does.”  Kathleen’s brother, Ned shook Alonzo’s hand next, looking down at his hand, flexing it from the Italian’s firm shake.

Turning from Buddy and Ned, Alonzo focused his attention on Kathleen’s mother, grandmother and sister.  “Oh, I see where my beautiful Kathleen gets her looks from, she looked exactly like you Mrs. Murphy.  You must be so proud.”

Kathleen’s mother, Jean, mug of beer halfway to her lips, regarded the Italian. Her eyes slowly moving down the tight white T-shirt, lingering on the black jeans, the large silver belt buckle accentuating his slim hips.  “Well, I’ll be.”  She whispered.

Molly, Kathleen’s sister just sat staring at Alonzo.  He smiled at her, making her face turn red.  Kathleen knew that reaction well, she experienced the same reaction when Alonzo first came up to her, talking to her.  She met him in the local bar she frequented with her friends every Thursday night.  It took several conversations with him before realizing he was talking to her, more meetings with friends before convincing her he wanted to be with her.  After dating for 6 months, Alonzo was ready for the next step, Kathleen still secretly unconvinced that he cared for her.  After a marathon lovemaking session, when he had her at her weakest, he got her to agree to meeting the family.  The first question her grandmother asked, confirmed Kathleen’s fears.  Could this sweet boy handle the Murphy family?

“How old are you?”

Alonzo laughed.  “Kathleen said you would ask me that.  I am 28 years old, I have traveled the world by backpack, and I absolutely adore your daughter.”

Kathleen sighed as her father’s eyes went from the TV screen to her, one eyebrow raised.  Luckily, fate intervened in her favor, the football game coming back on.  Buddy turned back to the TV, picking up his beer from the table.  “We’ve got a chance at a touchdown here, let’s hope they don’t settle for a field goal.”

Alonzo looked up to the TV screen.  “Look Kathleen, your father and I have another thing in common besides loving you, we both like sports.  I watch the real football.”

Buddy stopped, beer midway to his mouth, turning to the young Italian boy.  “Excuse me?”

Neal stood next to his Dad, “Did he just say what I think he said?”

Kathleen stepped between her boyfriend, father and brother.  “Dad, he’s from Italy.  That’s the type of football they watch.  Give him a break, OK?”

Buddy stopped for a minute, looking at the Italian.  “When you are with us, you watch the N-F-L, the best sport in the world.  Now let’s see if the Ravens can get a touchdown.”

Alonzo started to say something to Kathleen’s father, Kathleen quickly turning him toward her, “Why don’t you grab us a beer honey.  All this commotion has made me thirsty.”  Molly, Kathleen’s sister watched, leaning over to their mother.  “Man I could touch that any day.”

Alonzo smiled at the women, before leaving them for a trip to the bar. Kathleen pulled out a chair, sitting with the women of her family, she only had a few minutes to set them straight.  “Before you say anything.  He really is sweet, and nice, and….”

Molly looked back to the bar, Alonzo was leaning forward ordering, his ass visible in the tight black jeans.  “You don’t have to give me any explanation.  One look at that body and I totally understand sister.  Totally understand.”

Nana wasn’t as fazed as Molly.  “Kathleen Marie, In my younger age I was distracted by a German boy, but marrying a nice Irish boy was the best decision I ever made.  What happened to Seamus O’Reilly?  He was such a nice boy.”

Kathleen looked at her grandmother.  “Jeez Nana, that was in the 8th grade!  I’m a little older than that.”

Nana looked over to Alonzo.  “Well, he he looked like he’s in the 8th grade?”

Jean laughed.  “Honey, we are all just a little surprised.  You said you were bringing a boyfriend, you could have prepared us a little more.”

Kathleen smiled.  “I know, but then you’d all be telling me everything wrong with him.”

Molly sighed, looking back again at Alonzo’s ass.  “Oh, I can’t find anything on that list.  Not a thing.”
“I wanted you to see how sweet he was before judging him on his looks.”

Watching him walk back to the table, two beers in hand, a big smile on his face, Jean turned back to her daughter, “I am sure he is sweet.”

“Like sugar.”  Molly said, becoming quiet as Alonzo sat at the table next to Kathleen.  He leaned over touching his lips to her cheek sliding a beer in front of her.  Molly sighed.

Alonzo turned to Jean, his smile bright.  “So Kathleen tells me that you work with books.  I am hoping to become a writer one day.  I’ve traveled, now want to settle down and write!”  His enthusiasm was contagious.

Jean sighed.  “Yes, I am an editor for a local magazine.  I write a food column for them also.”

Alonzo clapped his hands together, looking at Kathleen.  “You did not tell me your mother is a chef!  That is another thing we have in common.  I love to cook.  Kathleen thinks that my recipe for meat balls is the best she’s ever tasted.”

Molly almost spit out her beer.  “Oh I am sure Kathleen loves eating your balls.”

“Molly!”

Alonzo, unaware of what transpired continued.  “I can come and make my sauce and balls for you.  We can have a special family time with it.”
Nana crossed herself again.  “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”

Buddy came back to the conversation.  “I can’t believe they only got a field goal on that run.  They should have gone for the touch down.”  He looked Alonzo up and down.  “What do you do?”

Alonzo stood up, shaking Buddy’s hand again.  “I am a chef.  I hope to write a cook book one day.”

“He says that he has the best balls in town.”  Molly added with a wink.

“Molly!”  Kathleen felt her face heat up.  Buddy looked down at Molly.  “You need to cool it young lady.”

Molly shrugged.  “He tells me to cool it when Kathleen brings this to the table?”

“So, how long have you been dating?”  Jean asked, moving the conversation off of Alonzo’s balls.

“Six months.”

“How did you meet?”  Molly asked.

Alonzo covered Kathleen’s hand.  “Kathleen came to my restaurant for a cooking class.”
The family looked over to Kathleen, who shrugged.  Molly was the first to say what was on everyone’s mind.  “You, cook?  You can’t even boil water.”

Kathleen laughed looking over to Alonzo for real.  “I guess I got sick of eating Ramen noodles all the time.  I wanted to cook a decent meal.  I was planning on having everyone over for dinner once I figured out how to make something.”

The entire table laughed.  Alonzo frowned, looking at them.  “What do you mean?  Kathleen is talented in the kitchen.”

Nana clucked her tongue.  “I am sure she is, does she help with your balls?”

This time Buddy looked over to his mother.  “Mom, that is not appropriate.”

“Yes, we cook them together now.  She is learning very quickly.  You would think she has a little Italian in her.”  Alonzo replied with a smile.

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” Nana crossed herself as Molly spit out her beer, Neal opened his mouth, shutting it quickly as the game came back on

Alonzo frowned.  “I am glad that Kathleen brought me to meet you.  I want you to know that I am in love with this woman.  She makes me smile every morning.  I know that she is a few years older than me.”

“A few?”  Molly asked.

“Yes, a few, but I believe in love, nothing else matters but the person you want to be with.  If that person is older then she is older.  Why do you Americans not say a word about a person that is younger than me?  I see a beautiful woman who makes me laugh, makes me feel good about myself, and yes, she may not cook but I love taking care of her.  I love hearing her sighs, I love rubbing her feet, I love reading books to her.  We may not be the same age but we are compatible.  What we are looking for is not your approval, but that you share this amazing journey of life with us.  We don’t need a blessing, we need each other.  We can watch the N-F-L, we can make meatballs and marinara sauce, we can have a beer together.  It is your choice.”

The entire table was silent staring at Alonzo, moving over to Kathleen.  She was looking at him, her eyes soft, her mouth in a silent ‘“oh.”  Looking over to her family, Kathleen simply shrugged, he’d said enough for the two of them.  All the doubt she felt about them being together vanished, she fell that instant, hook line and sinker.  She knew at that moment, looking at the promise in his eyes as he smiled at her that she was going to marry that man, have quite a few kids with him and possibly learn how to cook in her lifetime.  Everything in Kathleen’s life changed that moment.


Nana took a deep breath looking between the two of them.  “So back to your balls.”

Sunday, May 10, 2015

NANOWRIMO Games - Event 1 Dialogue Only

Ever had a conversation like this?

Billy, Tommy!  Come on it is time to go!
What?
I told you an hour ago, we need to leave now to get to the beach before dark.  I hate driving in the dark.  I can’t see anymore.  Get in the car.
But I don’t have shoes on.
Didn’t you hear me?  I told you to be ready an hour ago.
Can we pack up the X-box, we will be bored there.
Guys!  It is the freaking beach!  You will be on the beach, you won’t have time to play the X-box.  Get your shoes on and let’s go.
Where did you put my Neff socks, I can’t find them.
Just wear these.  You’ll be barefoot most of the weekend, it won’t matter.
Mom, people don’t wear Puma socks anymore.  They wear Nike or Neff.
What?  These socks look EXACTLY like your Neff socks, and your Dad wears them.
See?  Point made.
Oh my God, just get in the car.
Hold on, I’m almost done packing the X-box.
I told you we didn’t need the X-box, we’re at the beach.
But what about at night, what are we going to do at night.
We could have a conversation with each other, you know, sit on the porch and T-A-L-K.
About what?
I thought we didn’t have a porch.  
OK, whatever, pack the Xbox, we leave in ten minutes.
Should we pack clothes?
pause
Yes, you should pack clothes.  What have you been doing for the past hour?
Playing the xBox.
Oh.
How much clothes should we pack?
Really?  We are going to the beach for the weekend.  What do you think?
Do we need a bathing suit?
pause
Yes, you need a bathing suit, two pairs of shorts, two shirts.  I’m putting the last of my things in the car, get ready.
OK, I’ve got the xBox, my iPhone, the iPad, Apple TV and Kindle.  I’m set.
So glad you and your brother are planning on enjoying nature.
Mom?  Where did you put my Volcom shorts?
They are in the washing machine?
What they weren’t dirty, now what am I going to take to the beach?
They were on your floor so I figured they were dirty.  The dog did too because she peed on them.
Oh, can I take them wet?  They are my favorite shorts?
Sure, just hang them on the back seat and they’ll dry on the drive.
OK, I am ready.  Here’s my backpack.
Wait a minute, that’s my pair of Neff socks, you can’t have them.
No they’re not, they were in my drawer.  So technically they are mine.
No, they are not, look it says LARGE, that means they are mine.
They were in my drawer, so they are mine.
Will you two stop fighting over socks?  Just put both of the backpacks in the car, we have to leave, go use the bathroom, there is no time for pit stops.  I want to check into the hotel by 6pm.
But what about dinner?  What will we eat?
It’s one o’clock in the afternoon, let’s worry about that later?  We could eat after we check in.
But what kind of restaurants do they have there?  Do they have Mexican?
I hate Mexican, do they have Sushi.
I don’t like Sushi, you like Mexican, you always eat it.
Because you always make Mom take us to Mexican restaurants.
Guys, guys, it’s only one o’clock, let’s get moving we will worry about dinner later, OK?  Just get in the car and let’s get going OK?
I really want Mexican tonight, can’t you get Mexican?
I want Sushi, let’s get both, Mom can stop at two restaurants.
What?  No, I’m not stopping anywhere, especially since we are now 30 minutes late leaving.
It’s his fault, he couldn’t find socks.
Because you were hiding them in your back pack.
No I wasn’t, they are my socks.
Oh my God, will you two shut up and buckle in.  OK, we have a total of 7 hours and 36 minutes before we hit the beach.  We may be eating a late dinner.
We could always stop and get quick Mexican along the way?
But I don’t want Mexican, I want Sush!
Did you guys put your backpacks in the trunk?  
What?  Oh wait.  Hold on a minute.
pause
Finally!  Here we go!  Only 7 hours and 15 minutes left to go before we are in our bathing suits for a whole weekend!

Oh crap!  Mom wait, I forgot my bathing suit.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Random? I think not! Liz's Story

My husband said I should share this story I wrote last week.  Hope you enjoy.

Liz was sitting at her usual table with 6 girlfriends, looking at the martini in front of her.  Several were talking about work of the day, one looked ready to fall asleep at any minute, and Liz, well Liz was just lost in thought.

“Liz?  Earth to Liz?” A friend’s voice brought her back to the present.

Looking up from her drink, Liz finally focused on her friend Denise. “I’m sorry, I just zoned out for a minute.”

Denise picked up her drink. “You sure did.  You looked like you were ready to cry.  Are you OK?”

Looking back at her drink, Liz replied.  “I don’t know.  All of a sudden I feel sad.  Like really sad, I don’t know why.  Just sad.”

Denise put her arm around her friend.  “It’s OK, that’s just a sign of menopause.  It goes away, I promise.”

Liz looked to her friend.  “I’m a little young for menopause.  I mean I’m only 45.”

Denise shrugged.  “You never know.  I once heard of a girl who went into menopause at 21.  She had to go on drugs and shit and was never right in the head after.  One of the symptoms is being sad, then you get really pissed off and want to kill someone.  Not that I would know, I’m only 43.  But I have wanted to kill a few people lately.”

Liz looked at her friend for a few minutes, then back down to her drink.  “I just feel melancholy right now.  I feel like I missed something today, something important, I can’t put my finger on it.”

“Maybe you are realizing everything with Tom is finalized.  It is time to move on and you’re missing the old you.”  Denise tried.

Liz thought about that.  “No, Tom and I were not meant to be, breaking up was a natural thing for us.  We had already gotten to that point where we were living apart, so strange as it sounds, this was the next logical step.  It’s not that.  I know it is something else.  I just feel like I am mourning something.”

Denise was quiet.  “Either way a drink will make you feel better, so drink up!”

Liz took another sip of her drink, searching through her mind for a cause.  She walked through every part of her day, trying to pinpoint the moment when the feeling of sadness engulfed her, not finding a specific event.  It was like one moment she was fine, then the next she felt like crying.  She took another sip of her martini, watching her friends making jokes, laughing, some picking up a guy watching them from the bar, others ordering a second round.  She felt alone in the crowd, she felt different, something was talking to her.

She fingered the condensation collecting around the glass, reaching into her soul, letting the sadness take her.  It wasn’t that doom type of feeling, it wasn’t that she wanted to crawl into a ball and sob, it was just an ache, like that of a slight headache, irritating but completely manageable.  She watched her friends again.  “I don’t want to be here.  I want to leave.”

Getting up, pushing the drink away, Liz said.  “I’m going to go for a walk.  I’ve got a bit of a headache and think the fresh air will make me feel better.”

Denise looked over to her friend, the rest of the table so deep into conversation they didn’t notice her leaving.  “Are you sure you are OK?  Are you walking down to see Tom?”

Liz frowned, was that where she was going?  Something inside of her said, “No.  Time to go.”  Looking back to her friend, she replied.  “No, I’m just going for a walk.  I may stop and check on you on my way back.”

Denise pulled Liz’s martini over.  “OK, well be careful out there, there are all kinds of thieves and low-life’s out there.”  She took a sip of Liz’s martini.  “Well some would consider people drinking in bars low-life’s also, oh well. It’s a little watered down but still tastes good, don’t want it to go to waste!”

Liz left the bar laughing, heading down Main Street, no real direction in mind.  She enjoyed the cool evening air, thinking it was making her feel better, her headache was moving on.  Maybe she needed to move on from something, perhaps that was the feeling running through her.  She walked down the street, not really connecting with anyone that passed her, lost in her own thoughts.

Passing by a small brick church, Liz took a few more steps before stopping.  She felt that lingering sadness pass her once again, looking at the church.  It was an old building, made out of cinder blocks, a small cross sitting at the top of a modest steeple.  The building painted white with a large wooden red front door, old black iron hinges, along with iron strips holding the pieces of wood together.  Liz stood at the bottom of the marble steps looking at the building.

“Am I feeling the need to go to church?  Is this what I am missing?”  She said to the damp night air.  “Maybe I just need to sit quietly there for a few minutes.”

Her footsteps were light on the marble steps, the door heavy pulling open slowly.  The inside of the church was a deep oak, the walls paneled, different stages of the cross pictured along the side walls, depicting Jesus’ journey.  The floor was slate tile, the pews in the church a dark oak, red vinyl padding on the kneelers, small prayer companions sitting in little bins in front of each seat.  The altar of the church was deep oak, purple silk coverings draping over it, white candles burning on either side.

Liz stepped in, closing the door behind her, slipping into the last pew of the church, unsure if she should kneel or sit.  Sitting back quietly, picking up the prayer book, opening it to a random page, she read through the prayer for the Dead.

“We commend into thy mercy all other thy servants, which are departed hence from us with the sigh of faith and now do rest in the sleep of peace: grant unto them, we beseech thee, thy mercy and everlasting peace.”

The words running through her, Liz felt the sadness once again.

“I’m sorry are you here for the deceased?”  The voice was masculine.

Liz turned, a priest, dressed in purple and white, his hands holding onto the mantle staring at her.  He was young, perhaps around her age, blonde hair and bright blue eyes with even white teeth smiling at her.  He was thin, the flowing robes not hiding the fact, Liz looking down to his black shoes, around the church, not sure what to say.  Her breath caught, noticing the very sparse coffin sitting in front of the altar.

It was a simple coffin, made of wood, not the sleek chrome and mahogany she remembered when her grandfather passed away.  Two purple candles sat on either side, their fire glowing.  Liz was glad the lid was shut, she really wasn’t sure what she’d do, getting caught by a priest, realizing there’s a dead body in the church.

“I’m well, not really here, I was just walking down the street.”  Liz stammered.

“You are not a relative of Nottingham?”  The priest asked looking at her.

“Not really.” Liz almost whispered.

“Then are you a friend?”  The priest asked.

Liz looked around the empty church, where was everyone.  She felt that sadness again.  “OK, I guess you could say I am here paying my respects.”  She felt guilty with that statement,  but with an empty church, she figured the guy probably needed a friend.  “He will be missed.”

The priest looked at her strangely.  “This is the funeral for Vera Nottingham?”

Liz almost fell out of the pew.  “Oh, I am sorry.  I was just stopping by paying my respects.”  Getting up, figuring a quick getaway was in order.

Before she could get to the back door, the priest stood in her way, Liz looking back at the coffin hoping as she turned it wasn’t opening, like some horror movie.  “I am sure Ms. Nottingham appreciates you coming.  Don’t forget to sign the guest book.” The priest replied.

He ushered Liz over to small wooden table holding a small guest book.  Liz picked up the pen opening it, feeling sadness run through her noticing not a single name in the book.  She signed her name neatly to the book.

The priest closed the book.  “We are 30 minutes over due, come up and we will hold a short service.  The funeral home has been trying to remove her from the church for the last fifteen minutes.”  He stood behind her, pushing her up to the altar and the casket.  Liz looked around for a camera or something, her mind saying this cannot be happening.

Standing in front of the casket, watching the priest open the Book of Common Prayer, Liz bowed her head listening to him say a few prayers, including the one she read in the pew.  In her mind, she said her own type of prayer.

I’m sorry.  I know that I am not supposed to be here.
But, I just want you to know that you had a friend at your funeral.  You were real.
And even if no one else shows up tonight, I believe you will find love and peace on the other side.

She looked up, the priest quiet staring at her.  Liz wondered what she missed.

“Amen.” He said again quietly.

Bowing her head, Liz whispered.  “Amen.”

Walking through a side door, two men in black, took the silk adornments off of the casket before rolling it through the same door and out of sight.  Walking with Liz to the back door, the priest stopped, shaking her hand.

“Thank you for attending Ms. Nottingham’s funeral.  I was afraid no one would show up.”  He said with a small smile.

Liz looked at him.  “Sure, I’m glad she had a friend.”

The priest looked around the quiet, lonely church.  “You are a good friend.”

Feeling guilty, Liz shook his hand, opening the large wooden door.  

“Oh, and by the way.” His voice echoed through the church.

Liz turned.

He smiled at her.  “You know that some say when a person dies and no one will miss them, mourning is assigned to a random human.  This is why sometimes you just feel sad.”

Liz’s mouth dropped, her heart sped up, her face felt on fire.


“Have a nice evening.”  The priest said before turning and walking down the empty church, his footsteps echoing in her mind.  Liz walked out the door, headache gone, heart feeling lighter, not minding the light rain falling making her way home,