Love Never Dies

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Love Never Dies by Jenny Walker


ONE

31 December 2023

The moment Becky Stirling heard the voices in the distance, there were two things she instantly knew. Firstly, that she recognized the voices, which may have seemed strange as she had never actually heard them before. Secondly, she realized she had to leave. Immediately.

Standing there, she had lost all track of time, the mist rising from the well-groomed grassy lawns all around, the icy air almost freezing her nostrils with each deep inhalation. Her chest was heaving, as if she was drowning in the final acceptance of the reality that for two years she had been trying to push away. If she hadn’t seen what lay before her, perhaps she could still believe it might not be true. Yet as she looked at it one last time, the final grim testament to the end of her journey of hope that had begun seventeen years previously was undeniable, her vision blurred by the river of tears that had poured from her since she had first laid eyes on it.

Realizing for the first time since she had stopped there that she was shivering violently, she pulled her knee-length camel coat tightly closed. She cast a quick glance to her left, in the direction of the voices that drew ever nearer. Even at a distance, she knew without a doubt it was them. Becky had to fight an almost overpowering urge to run toward them, to tell them. To tell them what? She shook her head and knew she had to go. Another wave of searing grief coursed through her body as she turned to leave. Her boots almost slipped as she rejoined the frosty asphalt that meandered between the grassy islands. Regaining her balance, she cast one last wistful glance over her shoulder at the approaching mismatched duo, before resolutely striding away in the opposite direction. It was all she could do to hold herself together, to focus on taking one step after another, to stop herself from crumpling to the ground in a heap. That might come later.

So much for the fresh new start, a new chapter in her life. And yet, she always knew she had to face this. To ever think of moving on, she had to first come to this place. Despite having steeled herself for this moment, suspecting how agonizing it would be, the intensity of her reaction had still taken her by surprise.

A quick glance behind and her heart jumped as she saw he had stopped, standing where she had just been, yet looking over in her direction. Whipping her head back, she picked up her pace and circled back down to the road where her rental car waited.

As she fell into the driver’s seat and closed the door, her control slipped. With her head buried in her hands, she sobbed for the years that had been taken from them both, the past and the future stolen away in one fell swoop.

When she closed her eyes, she could still see the words. The words that would likely haunt her dreams for many nights to come…

Holly Marshall
7th September 1990 - 5th January 2019
Beloved wife to Jack, cherished mother of Isla
Taken too soon


TWO

The drive back from Alexandria to her Arlington hotel had been a blur. It was almost a miracle that she made it back unscathed. Feeling that she was fast unraveling, Becky closed the door of her hotel room behind her, leaned back against it and then slowly slid to the floor. The tears had dried, but the hollow emptiness in the core of her being that replaced them was, if anything, even worse. Although it was barely noon, she felt a wave of exhaustion break over her. It took every ounce of remaining strength to drag herself to her feet and stagger over to the bed. Slumping down on top of it, she slowly unzipped her boots and shimmied out of her tight jeans. Crawling under the covers, she curled up into a ball and bit her lip as another wave of anguish rose up within her. She screwed her eyes tightly shut and wondered if she’d ever want to open them again.

*

“Table for one, please.” Becky said, as the hostess greeted her. Her badge bore the name Irene.

“Sure thing,” Irene replied, doing a sharp double-take as she looked at Becky. She frowned briefly, “I thought for a moment I recognized you, but from your accent, you don’t sound like a local. Scottish, yes?”

Becky smiled and nodded. “That’s right.” Her heart had skipped a beat. This was always the risk with what she was doing. Who else might think they recognized her? She had debated it back and forth as she had driven back to Alexandria late that afternoon. In the restaurant parking lot, she had almost changed her mind and driven off. But again, this was something she felt she needed to do, as if she owed it to the… memory? Can it be a memory if it wasn’t really known before?

Becky stopped short. “Excuse me, could I sit at this booth, please?” It was this one in the photos. She was sure of it.

Irene turned and shrugged. “Yes, sure; no problem.”

Becky slid into the booth and settled on the red leather-covered bench. Irene left the menu with her and said one of the waitresses would be with her shortly. Becky took a deep breath, ignoring the menu for now. Here she was. For better or worse. She had wanted to do this. One last tribute before getting on with her life. If that were possible.

When she had hauled herself out of bed earlier that afternoon, having crashed out for about three hours, the reflection that had greeted her in the mirror was a very sorry sight. Dark make-up stains trailed down her cheeks and she looked pale and ghastly. It was only her sheer determination to work through what she had planned that got her going again. An extended shower revived her to some degree. She had debated whether to go casual and lowkey, but then decided that if it was to be done, she would do it properly.

Wearing her long fitted black dress and matching pumps, she had added a silver necklace and matching drop earrings, leaving the almost ever-present diamond studs twinkling in her second holes. Her long blonde hair was in a much better state after a vigorous blow-dry and straightening session. She had checked her make-up in the mirror and managed to give her reflection a wan smile. “That will do,” she murmured. “Much better.” She had actually surprised herself with the turnaround from an hour or two previous.

Coming back to the present, Becky picked up the menu from the table and began to peruse it, still half-distracted by the emotions that were still bubbling below the surface. She could still hear those two voices from earlier in her head.

Suddenly, she glanced up and realized the voices weren’t in her head. Her stomach dropped within her as she saw them standing before Irene, just inside the entrance. She had considered this possibility, but had dismissed it as being an incredibly unlikely eventuality. Panicking, she looked around, wondering what she could do. She spotted the sign for the restrooms and grabbed her purse.

Hearing light footsteps running in her direction, she knew she was too late. Looking up with dread rising from deep within, she saw the fair-haired angel standing a few feet away, mouth gaping open and staring wide-eyed at Becky.

“Mom… is that you?”


THREE

Becky’s mouth opened and closed. No words were forming in her mind. Before she could reboot her brain, another voice closed in.

“Isla, honey,” he said. “What are you doing running over to this lady like that? I’m sorry, ma’am—”

Becky slowly raised her head and reluctantly met his curious gaze.

“Oh my… what? No…,” he stammered. All color drained from him and his face went slack. His eyelids began to flutter and he reached for the edge of the table to steady himself.

Irene rushed over, spotting the imminent faint. “Hey Jack, you OK?”

Becky slowly stood. “I think you’d better sit down,” she said softly.

At the sound of her voice, he looked even more puzzled, were that possible, but allowed Irene to help him onto the bench opposite Becky.

“Some water, perhaps?” Becky asked Irene, who stood for a second just watching before nodding and scuttling over to the bar.

“Are you OK?” Becky asked, noticing that Isla had shuffled herself onto the bench beside her and was looking up at her, transfixed.

Jack swallowed hard, closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before looking back at Becky. “You’re… you’re not her, but…”

“I’m sorry,” Becky said, spreading her hands and slowly resting them palms down on the table before her. “I didn’t mean to upset you. If I’d known… I wouldn’t have come here.”

“Who are you?” Isla asked with fascination, her eyes looking as if they might pop out of their sockets. “You look so much like my Mommy, but you don’t sound like her.” Her little brow wrinkled.

Becky didn’t know where to turn or look. She forced herself to meet the little girl’s gaze and forced a smile. She placed a hand on Isla’s shoulder. “I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry. This must be so confusing.”

Jack took a long slow drink from the glass of water Irene had just deposited in front of him. “I think I have an idea,” he began, “but maybe you should introduce yourself.”

She nodded. “My name is Becky Stirling,” her voice quavered. She stopped, unsure of what to say next.

As the pause reached the point of awkwardness, he spoke up, “I’m Jack Marshall and this is Isla… but I think you already know that, don’t you?”

Becky slowly held up a hand. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to explain this.” She hesitated. “I never planned for this.”

Jack nodded slowly, “You’re Holly’s twin—,” he paused and frowned for a moment. “Her twin sister?” he asked softly, his brow furrowing.

Becky sighed. “Yes, I am. I’m so sorry, I didn’t want… no, I mean I never intended to have this happen.”

Jack nodded slowly. “That was you, this morning, wasn’t it? At the cemetery?”

“It was,” she said softly. “Again, I’m sorry for intruding. Perhaps it might be better if I left.”

“Are you kidding?” Jack said, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on her arm. “Look, yeah, this is a bombshell for sure, but, I mean, wow, you’re Holly’s sister. I can’t believe it. After all this time. You can’t just up and leave. Why would you hide from us?”

“No, I guess you’re right,” Becky replied. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to meet you, but I thought my appearance might be difficult for you and Isla. I didn’t want to cause you any pain.” She smiled sadly and softly added, “More pain.”

“Why don’t you sound like Mommy?” Isla asked. “You look so much like her.”

Becky smiled at her. “I’m from Scotland. Or at least I spent most of my life there growing up. I was born in Philadelphia though, as your Mum was.”

Isla rolled her eyes, “Well, duh! I know that. I do know what twins means.” She inclined her head. “I am eight years old, you know?”

“Isla!” Jack exclaimed. “Look, I’m sorry…”

Becky laughed and waved a hand. “No, no, it’s fine.”

Jack grimaced. “Eight years going on teenager, more like.”

“Da-ad,” Isla complained. Looking at Becky, she sighed. “It’s like he thinks I’ll never grow up.” Jack’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Isla continued, “So, this means you are my Aunt Becky, right?”

Becky hesitated and then nodded slowly. “I guess it does, yes.”

“And then I’m your niece,” Isla reasoned.

“Yes, that is true.”

Isla pondered. “I’ve never had an aunt before.”

Jack managed to get a word in. “I’ve got one unmarried brother and Holly, well yeah… obviously, up till now, we didn’t know where her twin… sister was.”

“Have you got any other nieces?” Isla interrupted.

Becky looked from Jack, back to Isla, somewhat bemused and then shook her head. “No, I haven’t. You’re the only one.”

Isla nodded sagely. “Guess I’m your favorite niece then.”

Both Becky and Jack burst out laughing.

“What?” Isla protested. “I’m just saying.”

“OK, Miss Favorite Niece,” Jack said, a twinkle in his eye, “how about you let your ‘Aunt’ get a few words in?”

“Fine,” Isla murmured as she folded her arms, a cheeky grin spreading across her face. She surreptitiously slid an arm around Becky’s and lent against it.

Becky blinked hard a few times and bit her lip before regaining her composure.

Jack met her gaze and inclined his head towards Isla, raising an eyebrow.

Becky gently shook her head. “It’s fine,” she murmured and put her other hand on Isla’s arm, pulling her in closer. “It’s all just a lot for me too.”

“So, Scotland?” Jack prompted gently.

Becky nodded. “Yes, my Mum and I moved back when I was two years old. She’s from Edinburgh. My… so-called Dad - who I never really knew - apparently changed his mind on the whole adoption thing being a good idea.” Becky forced a smile. “Nothing like being rejected by another parent, huh?”

Jack gave a sympathetic smile. “Your, that is, your and Holly’s birth Mum - you know the story then, I take it?”

Becky shrugged. “Drugs, booze, boyfriends, twins didn’t really fit in. Department of children and family services. What more is there to say?”

“Scotland,” Jack mused again. “No wonder we could never find you.”

That was one reason.

“So… Holly - I mean - you were both trying to find me?” Becky asked, a huskiness in her voice.

“Hell, yes,” Jack said. “You were never far from her thoughts. But DCFS were just a disaster with records from around that time, and less than helpful. It was just brick wall after brick wall. And then, well, when Holly got sick…”

He broke off as the waitress hovered beside their table. “Are you guys ready to order?”

Jack looked at Becky questioningly.

She shrugged.

Isla spoke up, “Yes, I’m ready. I’ll have the Mac’n’cheese, please.” She turned to Becky. “That’s my favorite. I always have that here.”

Becky took a moment and then ordered one of the fish dishes and Jack asked for a burger. After the waitress left, Becky cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for crashing your New Year’s Eve dinner. I didn’t expect you guys to be here and, with the jet lag still working on me, I came early, thinking there would be less chance.”

Jack waved a hand. “Are you kidding? OK, granted I had the near-miss heart attack when I first saw you, but this is like a miracle.” He paused. “When did you fly in?”

“Just yesterday.”

“And you came, just to… to… well I dunno, pay your respects?” He winced. “That sounds so inadequate.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean though,” Becky said. “And yes, I have been wanting… well perhaps more like needing to come here to do this. But I’m also here for work.”

Jack nodded. “I have like so many questions for you. I don’t know where to start. But tell me then, work? What do you do?”

“I’m a journalist. For The Times,” she replied. She grinned, “And that’s not the New York version, but the original one.”

He laughed. “If you say so. Here for a story then?” He gave a wry grin and pointed around the table. “Although it seems you are the story.”

Becky shook her head. “Again, not my intention. But yes, here on assignment.”

Jack’s expression became sombre. “So you obviously found Holly. You succeeded where we failed.” He took a deep breath. “If only… you’d come sooner.” The pain evident in his voice.

Becky looked down at the table. “I would have.” She shook her head. “I only finally tracked Holly and you guys down… two years ago.” She looked up at Jack. “Two years too late.” She blinked hard and lifted a hand to her eyes, before resting it back on the table.

Jack reached across and took her hand. “Hey, I’m so sorry. I can only imagine how that felt.”

She bit her lip. “Yeah.”

“So, how did you find us? Do you mind telling?”

“Of course. Like you and Holly, I was fighting a losing battle with Pennsylvania DCFS. Since I turned eighteen I’d been trying to get more information. My mother - my adoptive mother that is - wasn’t much help. She didn’t see any value in ancient history, as she put it. She only told me I was a twin when I was sixteen. From that moment, I could barely think of anything apart from finding my sister. But for years, I was getting nowhere.”

“Sounds familiar,” Jack sympathized. “What made the difference?”

“Just over two years ago, I signed up to a load of DNA family tree type services. You know the ones where you send a swab of your DNA off to them and they tell you if they’ve found anyone else in their database who was a match.”

Jack nodded vigorously, “Yes, yes, of course. Holly had signed up to a few of those too but there were no hits.”

“Yeah, it must have been before I signed up. So most of them came back to me saying no match. But there was this one that said ‘no living match’. I didn’t think anything of it at first. Then I wondered. And then I hoped it meant nothing. Because if it was something…” She shrugged. “But I couldn’t let it go. I plagued them to give me more information but they just said there was nothing more to say.”

“I’m guessing, you didn’t take no for an answer?”

“First I had to test my theory. I got a colleague to send his sample in to this company and waited to see his result. It came back as simply ‘no match’.”

“So then you knew?”

“I did and I didn’t. I still hoped I was wrong, but it was the only lead I had. I’m not overly proud of what I did next.” She screwed up her face.

“I promise not to judge you,” Jack said gently.

“A year or two previous, I’d done a story on the dark web, hackers and the like, so I had a contact that I could persuade to help me out…”

Jack’s eyes widened. “You got him to hack their database?”

She smiled awkwardly. “Yeah. I didn’t know what else to do.” Her face fell. “But it worked. He came back with a name and address.”

“But then you found out?” Jack prompted softly. “How?”

She shrugged and looked away. “Two minutes on Google.” She swallowed hard. “And I found her blog.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack murmured.

“There she was, looking back at me in the photos. My sister. My twin sister. My beautiful twin sister.” Her voice caught. “But within a few moments I realized she was telling the story of her illness in the pages of her blog, raising awareness, getting support for breast cancer. And from the tributes in the comments on the front page… I knew I was too late.” A tear tripped over her lower eyelid and she wiped it away. “She was so young. Just twenty-five when she was diagnosed. How can that be?”

Jack nodded sadly. “Isla, honey, would you go and ask Irene if she could get us more water?”

“But there’s still some in the jug, Daddy!” she protested.

“I know, but let’s get some more. Please?”

“OK,” she sighed and slid out of the booth.

Jack leaned forward and spoke quickly. “She noticed a lump mid pregnancy with Isla. The hormones of pregnancy made it advance faster. The doctors gave ‘options’, but there was only one option in our minds. By the time Isla arrived… things weren’t good. She was young and strong, she fought hard, we all did. But the clock was ticking…” His voice trailed off as Isla returned.

Becky tried to fight the tears.

“Are you OK, Aunt Becky?”

She forced a smile and patted Isla’s arm. “I’m just sad, Isla. I’m so sorry for you and your Dad, and for me. I wish I’d known your Mom. But I kind of did get to know her as I read her blog. I found out all about you guys and how wonderful you were.”

And then some.

Isla nodded. “I helped her write some of it and I drew some of the pictures.”

“I could see that, they are really good.”

Isla said, “And I helped her pick the name for it. She had a few names and wanted me to help her.”

Becky murmured, “Love never dies.”


FOUR

Jack couldn’t help stealing glances over at Becky as they ate their food. Isla was chattering away to her, telling her about school, friends, and just about anything that came into her head. His mind was racing. His heart too. For so long, he had been in a rut of numb survival. Yes, he had done his best to care for Isla and ensure she was loved in every way. But as the initial crushing agony of losing Holly had slowly dimmed to a gnawing sense of ongoing loss, he had just sought to make it through one day after another. Work provided some distraction. But the moments of joy and the sense of being alive were few and far between.

Meeting Becky that evening had been like an electric shock to his system. With each glance, he marveled at how like Holly she was. But he also noticed the little differences. Now that he could observe her closely, he could see the minor variations in each feature he examined. And the accent? While it was obviously different, she had tones and inflections that did sound like Holly. He had to admit that her soft Scottish burr was very becoming. Suddenly he realized that both Becky and Isla were looking at him. Isla quirked an eyebrow.

“Uhh, what was that?” he asked.

Isla sighed, “I asked, Daddy, why are you staring at Aunt Becky like that.”

He felt his cheeks flush instantly and as his gaze flicked back to Becky, he saw a similar reaction on her part. “Umm, I… well…,” he winced. “Sorry, I just can’t help it. You are so like her, but yet you are quite different.”

“How so?” Becky asked, inclining her head, a little smile toying with the corner of her mouth.

He felt himself blush more. “You’re trying to make this difficult, aren’t you?” he asked, trying to evade her question.

She shrugged. “I’m just interested. What do you see?”

Jack laughed. “OK, you want to know? I see an incredibly beautiful woman, the like of which I’ve only ever seen once before in my life.”

Becky’s mouth dropped open and he took some pleasure in seeing the redness in her cheeks grow. “OK, sorry I asked,” she murmured, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

“What’s your biggest secret, Auntie Becky?” Isla asked.

“So many questions!” Becky laughed. She shifted in her seat and hesitated. After a moment, she smiled. “I’ve got a black belt in Ju Jitsu.”

“What?” Isla asked. “Like kung fu type stuff. No way!”

Becky nodded. “Yes way.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She shrugged. “I got picked on at school.” She gave an awkward smile. “I don’t get picked on anymore.”

After they finished their meal and their waitress had left the check for them - Jack having insisted he was paying - they got up to leave.

Just inside the door, he hesitated. “Look, it’s still early, only 7.30. How about you follow us back to our place so we can catch up more?”

“Are you sure?” Becky asked.

“Oh yes,” Isla said, clapping her hands. “I can show you my room.”

“Yeah,” Jack said, suddenly feeling somewhat self-conscious. “We can show you lots of photos of Holly and talk more.”


FIVE

Back at the house, Becky had lost track of time as they sat there, the three of them. Isla nestled in between them on the sofa in the den before she had been dispatched to bed under protest. They’d looked through endless photo albums. They’d laughed at funny memories; there had been more than a few tears at their shared loss. She told Jack about her progression through the ranks at The Times, leading to her being assigned to D.C. as White House correspondent. Jack had seemed seriously impressed. She wondered if there could be something more behind his reaction when she then told him it was a two-year assignment. The man she had read about on Holly’s blog was everything her sister had said: kind, charming, gentle and funny. She tried to ignore the crazy thoughts in her head. How many times had she read that blog, again and again, poring over all the photos?

“Penny for your thoughts,” he asked.

She smiled. “This has been lovely. I never imagined this. Being able to meet you both.”

“It has,” he said, an intense look in his eyes. “I’d love you to be a part of our lives here. It would be good for Isla.” He paused and softly added, “And for me.”

She fought the urge to look away. “That sounds good to me.” She smothered a yawn. “Sorry. I’m beat. Jetlag. Perhaps I should go.”

They both stood, awkwardly, then Jack gave a little chuckle.

“What?” Becky asked.

“Blackbelt? Really?”

She shrugged. “I could have you on the ground in seconds, begging for mercy.”

He laughed. “I don’t beli—” He gasped as he suddenly found himself on his back on the rug, Becky leaning over him, pinning his arms to the ground.

She grinned apologetically and released his arms. “Sorry. You were saying?”

He looked up into her clear blue eyes. She blinked and smiled shyly. Fireworks sounded in the distance.

“Happy New Year,” she murmured.

He smiled up at her and then lifted his face to hers and gently kissed her. “Happy New Year to you too.”

She rolled off to one side and they self-consciously sat up beside one another, backs against the sofa.

“I’m sorry…,” Jack began.

“No, don’t be,” Becky said. “Please don’t be.” She looked at him intensely. “But were you kissing me or… Holly?”

He drew near and gently kissed her again. “I’m kissing you. I know this is strange. Perhaps too weird. But five days before she died, Holly made me promise to make the same resolution each new year.” He smiled sadly. “It was that if I ever found another woman half as beautiful as her, who could make me laugh despite everything, that I’d be open to see what might happen.” He pushed the hair back from Becky’s face. “And you’re every bit as beautiful.”

“Oh Jack,” she murmured, biting her lip. “I’d love to see what’s possible… but there’s something I need to tell you and it might change everything.”

“OK, sure, you can tell me anything.”

She looked away. “So, was there anything else you think that made it harder for Holly to find me?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ve realized that DCFS screwed up big time. They told us Holly had a twin brother. It’s no wonder we got nowhere.”

Becky took a deep breath. After her last failed relationship, she had decided she had to get it out there from the first kiss. She was already one kiss too late on that front. And this time? This time, she felt like she was already too far in. It mattered more than ever. She barely allowed herself to hope, but this evening had changed everything. And she couldn’t bear the thought of letting it go further and then it falling apart like it had every other time.

“Jack, DCFS weren’t wrong,” she said softly, looking intently into his eyes. “Holly had a twin brother.” She paused and took a deep breath. “But for the last ten years or so, she's had a twin sister.”

He sat there looking stunned for a moment. He slowly exhaled. “Wow. Just when I thought this evening had delivered all the shocks I could imagine.”

Becky winced. “I’m sorry. Perhaps I should go.”

He put a hand on her arm and then pulled her close, until her head rested on his shoulder. “Oh Becky, I guess there’s a lot more to find out about you, isn’t there?” he mused.

“Yeah,” she said hesitatingly. “Life is never straightforward. Listen, I understand if this—”

He turned to her and put a finger on her lips. “Does this change what Holly said to me about my New Year’s resolution - the one I thought I’d never be able to keep?” He paused. “Until now?”

She shrugged. “I can’t answer that for you.”

He looked into her eyes. “Then, allow me. And in case you have any doubt, I’m about to kiss Becky Stirling for the third and, hopefully, far from last time.”

He gently pulled her close and their eyes closed as their lips met. This time, it was unhurried, lingering, and it felt as if the distant fireworks were going off in the room with them.

*

A little blonde head peeked between the stair rails, having been woken by the fireworks. As she watched the ‘fireworks’ in the room below her, she grinned and whispered to herself, “Happy New Year!”

*

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Indeed!

Andrea Lena's picture

“Yeah,” she said hesitatingly. “Life is never straightforward. Listen, I understand if this—”

He turned to her and put a finger on her lips. “Does this change what Holly said to me about my New Year’s resolution - the one I thought I’d never be able to keep?” He paused. “Until now?”

She shrugged. “I can’t answer that for you.”

He looked into her eyes. “Then, allow me. And in case you have any doubt, I’m about to kiss Becky Stirling for the third and, hopefully, far from last time.”

Thank you!

  

To be alive is to be vulnerable. Madeleine L'Engle
Love, Andrea Lena

love never dies indeed

wow. this was just . . . wow.

did I say wow already?

well done, have a huggle.

DogSig.png

Nervous just...

RachelMnM's picture

Reading this... The angst in Becky palatable. Very well done! Drug me in, held me tight, and the finish was heartwarming. Thank you for sharing!

XOXOXO

Rachel M. Moore...

I've Known Your Writing for Two Decades

I expected your entry to be good. I was wrong. This is the best you've done.

Jill

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

This was an outstanding story……

D. Eden's picture

And my pick to win the contest - as should be obvious from my original comment; but I would still vote for Chasing Hope as Jenny’s best work ever.

Of course that is just my personal opinion, lol.

I have yet to read a lot of the submissions, but based on what I have read to date this story is hands down the best, yet it is only one of a plethora of wonderful stories. Stories which have given me the added advantage of meeting several new, or perhaps just new to me, authors. Of all the contests I have seen on the site in the years I have been visiting, this is the single most successful and the true winners of the contest are those who get the enjoyment (and sometimes the tears) from reading.

A heartfelt thank you to all who have been involved in this contest, whether in planning, organizing, or running it - as well as to those who have written stories and participated.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

A love story within a love story.

This must be one of the best entries yet. All have been better than just good,
but this pushes the finishing tape a bit further away. I don't envy the judges,
they have their work cut out for them. I wouldn't want to decide.

Polly J

Beautiful

BarbieLee's picture

What a beautiful heartwarming story. Shy, running from the meeting, too much wrong to be right. Fate stepped in with Cupid and the meeting was rearranged without any escape routes so she couldn't flee before coming face to face confrontation with an angel.
she saw the fair-haired angel standing a few feet away, mouth gaping open and staring wide-eyed at Becky.
“Mom… is that you?”

No I didn't cry while reading this beautiful tale told so potently about lives finding a reason to live once more after going through years of loss of loved ones.
Hugs Jenny Walker
Barb
The most precious gift in life doesn't have a price, can't be bought, nor traded, only gave straight from the heart with no strings. Love

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

masterfully told

and I loved the little coda.

Beautifully done

I love it when someone can provide a fresh take on an old plot. Happy New Year indeed!

Such a lovely story

Jenny North's picture

This is the kind of story where I think, "Ugh, I wish I'd written this." The premise is deceptively simple, but it really blossoms as it gives plenty of room to explore the beautifully defined characters and then having them deal with genuine emotions, sometimes heartbreakingly so. Even apart from the romantic angle, you can really feel how the characters, previously separated by time and fate, really want to connect even as they fumble through what that means. What could have been just boring exposition of them talking about their lives felt very real and immediate since every sentence gave insights into the characters and built on their growing connection to each other. That was very deftly done. Thank you for this!

OK, first thing’s first……..

D. Eden's picture

This needs to be expanded into a novel. It is simply too good to be left as is. There are yet too many tears to be cried over this story.

But I have already made a good start on crying them.

What a place to start a story - your main character crying in a cold and frosty cemetery while staring at a tombstone. A tombstone delineating the much too short life of a wife and mother. The final resting place of a woman obviously well loved.

At first, I thought perhaps Becky was Holly; that perhaps this was some bizarre twist where her death had been faked for some unknown reason, perhaps some government program or witness protection. That she was running from her own husband and daughter, afraid to let them see her.

But then I realized the loss that was tearing her apart was not the loss of a wife and mother for her family. It was different. Whatever was tearing Becky apart was different, and the question became just what her relationship to Holly was? Whatever it was, it was deep; and yet she was afraid of Holly’s family finding her.

But then the restaurant scene started to bring things more in focus. The hostess who thought Becky looked familiar. The fear that someone might think they recognize her. The memory that wasn’t a memory, but rather recognition from a photo. The need to sit in a particular booth, because it was the one she recognized in the photos. And then she tries to run for the bathroom when she recognizes the same voices, just before Isla runs up to her and says, “Mom, is that you?”

And suddenly I was right back to my original hypothesis. Until Jack said, “You’re… you’re not her, but….”

And then I understood. And I was pretty sure about Becky’s secret right then and there.

And I cried some more. With every word, every sentence, every paragraph, I cried more.

But what really got me was Jack’s New Year’s resolution, and how he reacted to Becky’s confession. And then Isla’s comment finished me off. Even now, while I write this and think about what you have written, I am fighting through blurry eyes to see the keyboard.

I too have sat behind the wheel of a car driving more from memory than anything else, my vision blurred by tears. I too have collapsed against the back of a hotel room door in anguish, and curled up in bed crying myself to sleep. I too have stared at more than one tombstone and cried my heart out for someone I loved and lost, someone who was like a brother to me. More than one someone.

And I too have had a spouse ask me to promise that I would find another love if she passes before me - but unlike Jack, that is a promise I cannot make. I pray that I go first, because I will be lost at sea without her -for she is life, and without her I would be less than nothing.

If my vote counts for anything, this story wins the contest.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

She was the Only One

BarbieLee's picture

We had only been married a couple months when she asked me if I would remarry if something happened to her? What kind of question is that? I instantly answered without thinking, "No." We played together as kids, grew up together, her a farm girl, me supposedly the farm boy. I loved her with all my heart and soul, I still do. I'm not good at posting pics. Engraved on our tombstone.

"Carolyn was and always will be my best friend, my courage, my strength, my heart, my soul."

There was no way I would change the headstone. A foot marker was engraved and placed so those who understand would know. Those who were there will understand the spelling.

"Barbie Jean Lee, Oklahoma Cowgirl, Novelist, Short Story, USN, Viet Nam"

What they do with this body once I'm through with it is up to the kids. I have the most beautiful beaded and brocaded white wedding dress you ever saw. If they will allow it? Gave our wedding rings, in a crystal globe, to one of our sons and asked him to keep them together forever.
Hugs D. Eden
Barb
There are never too many times one can say, "I love you" before we must wait our turn to hold them and say it again.

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

I feel your pain…….

D. Eden's picture

I made my wife and sons promise me that when I die they will bury me as my true self - as the woman that I am, and always have been. Not as the man that my family and society tried to make me be.

It is a sin to see a trans woman dead named and mistreated by a family ashamed to acknowledge their true being, but it happens all too often in this life.

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

No contest

There can be no contest after this story. Beautifully crafted it masterfully leads the reader on a journey of love and hope. It was such a pleasure to read it.

Love Never Dies

Columbine's picture

Beautiful story, beautifully told. Not sure about extending it as a longer piece. It is crafted to this length and might lose something if extended. What might be better would be another story, or more stories, of varying length in the same literary universe.

How Can I Comment?

joannebarbarella's picture

Beautiful story. Even if I guessed who Becky was half-way through.

Ding, Ding...Ding,Ding,Ding

We have a winner. I'm in love with this story and it's a love that won't die.

Earlier this year (on a lead in from Jill) I devoured your four magnificent novels. It was kinda like Cookie Monster on chocolate chip. I've looked and hoped for more unsuccessfully. Until this contest drew you out. Tres sweet. Leave this beauty remain as it exists. But I know the world is more than ready for a transgendered Washington journalist. You write 'em...I'll read 'em.

Ron

Available on Amazon

All four of Jenny Walker's novels are available on Amazon!

Jill

Angela Rasch (Jill M I)

Twins

Dee Sylvan's picture

This was a beautiful story, Jenny. I am a fan of all of your works, but this was a challenge to bring in at the 5k mark. There is a whole story to be told behind this story and from this point forward, but I like the fact that you let the readers fill in the blanks.

There is always that one moment, and it may happen over and over again, where everything is laid bare and we are all holding our breath...waiting for the reaction. Acceptance? we hope and pray! Rejection? we are usually expecting to be disappointed, but hoping we won't be.

But Isla's reaction is the best- Elation! Who cares about the past, right now is a present, and the future is full of promise!

Thanks for sharing this gem with us, Jenny. Happy New Year! :DD TAF

DeeDee

Amor numquam moritur

I love a cracking love story, but one where family lost becomes family gained is always a great read

So poignant

Robertlouis's picture

Wonderful and skilful writing, and moving without tipping over.

I enjoyed it so much that I delved into your back catalogue and am now thoroughly engrossed and absorbed in the depths of No Half Measures - about a third of the way through inside less than a day. I’m a speed reader, but I’m voracious with Cara’s progress. You’re a very gifted writer.

☠️

I hope Becky isn't a lesbian,

This would be very sad if she were. But why ruin a good ending. Seems that she is not.

A beautiful story

Thank you so much Jenny. I did have a tear in my eye as I read this.
Just a beautiful story
Thank you

I've been waiting a long time for something new from Jenny

and this was wonderful, I'm so glad you are still writing.

I haven't had enough time to read all of the competition entries yet, but it's hard to imagine that many can be better than this. I'll be re-reading your books on my forthcoming holiday - can't wait!

A very well written piece

Angharad's picture

I've read three of her novels, I didn't take to the other, however, this short story, had tears forming in my eyes even though I had guessed the ending from the first page. You haven't lost your touch, so please, some more of your writing.

Angharad

Already one kiss too late

Wow this story is going to stay with me for some time. But it was another one that I had to push myself to keep reading. Loved the build-up journey in this one. From the get-go we're trying to understand who Becky is, why does the gravestone bring her to tears. Why is she so fearful?
Another masterful entry in this contest. While there will eventually be a winner, it is US, the BCTS readers, who have already won this contest with so many high quality entries like this to read.

>>> Kay

Amen, Kay!

Emma Anne Tate's picture

Speaking just as a member of the community, it has been fabulous seeing so many great stories from so many talented writers!

Emma

Love triumphs over death

Eltuna2010's picture

What at first appears to start out as the possibility of a ghost story eventually becomes reality in this tale of love, a short story that marks the return of the author to publishing. In the final analysis, and without giving any spoiler alerts, the author demonstrates that love triumphs over death.

Lawrence Tunis

Well well well

When I first encountered this site, it was two authors who caught my attention. One, obviously, was 'Angharad', with 'Bike' . I binge read the old episodes and then continued with it for years. At the time, there was half of a rather different story on file, called 'No Half Measures'. The episodes available stopped at the assault on Nicola by her fellow band member. "Arsebollocks", said I.

I searched for the book, found it again, later obtained the Kindle version, left a review, et cetera, and that would have been it, BUT
[Dramatic ellipsis...]

My transition had raised many problems in my life, and so many of them were coming back repeatedly that I was in a bad place. 'Bike' had picked me up a little, and boosted by that and the realisation that trans fiction did NOT have to resemble that found on other websites, but could be coherent, literate, grammatically correct and worth reading, I decided to give writing a try.

Almost twenty books later, one of them weighing in at nearly a quarter of a million words, I understand what ability I have. It wasn't a case of seeing two women's writing and thinking "If they can do it, why can't I?" but more in seeing said 'real writing' and asking myself, "Oh! It exists! I wonder if I...?"

Life changing.

So, the story...
Neatly done, and a LOT carefully fitted into a limited space. Good editing! I read it, thinking occasionally that I would have written something differently, and simultaneously recognising that I have skills to do so, and that reading someone else's art is a treat, not an editing exercise.

That comes down to this site, and to examples like yourself. No: I am NOT trying to make this all about me, but I am simply the example I obviously know best, and 'write what you know', etc. The message to new chums thinking of putting some words together, making some people live and telling a story, is a simple one.

"Here's how it can be done. Why don't you try? Don't be afraid"

Thank you

Wonderful story.

Well structured and grabs the reader from the first sentence.
Great Job
DD

Wow... wow... wow

SaraKel's picture

This story started off mysterious, and it drew me to know more. At some point, the truth becomes obvious as the stories on this site have one thing in common. So we knew the main character's secret and where the story would lead. We feel their angst and you drew it out perfectly. And the ending ... well, my title says it all. Wow.

A brilliant story

Beautifully written! I confess I was left wondering what was going on at the start but it was all resolved beautifully and the final revelation was a complete surprise whereas in most stories you can see it coming a mile off.
Well done, Jenny.

Bronwen

A brilliant story

Beautifully written! I confess I was left wondering what was going on at the start but it was all resolved beautifully and the final revelation was a complete surprise whereas in most stories you can see it coming a mile off.
Well done, Jenny.

Bronwen

Love your writing

Subject says it all

Julie