Chapter 9

Back at the little apartment she opened the windows to let in some air. There was no air conditioning and she wouldn't have used it if there were one, because she couldn't really afford to waste money on the electric bill.

She'd barely made it out of the divorce with a few thousand dollars, money she'd squirrelled away each month to plan for a trip. Money, Paul knew nothing about or she was sure he'd have taken that as well.

Every time she thought of the injustice of it, she got really sad or really mad. The fact that someone who had once proclaimed undying love for her could do such a horrible thing to her left her cold and afraid. The world truly was a scary place.

She had a sudden flash of Kyle and the way he'd looked down at her. She wondered what kind of man he was. She knew better than to judge a book by its cover, look at what the boy next door had done to her life. But there had to be some kind of story there, what with all the tats and that bike.

She actually found herself daydreaming about him as she sat there recalling that little zing when his hands had touched her skin. Lucille was right.

It sure did feel like sparks. She ran her hand over the spot before reality struck back.

It was never too far these days, always nipping at her heels that self-doubt. As usual, after each high she had to face the low, but she was getting better at it. She knew that when this bout of melancholy passed, she had her writing to look forward to, so she let her mind go where it wanted for now.

It was the same every day almost verbatim. Her mind would list everything that was wrong with her life, all her limitations. There were more stumbling blocks in her way than she cared to count. But today, there was something else to worry and gnaw over. Like writing was all fine and well, but it wasn't going to pay the bills. Not for a long time if ever, if she wasn't good enough to get published. And the fact that she wasn't qualified for anything more than a waitressing job, and there was nothing available in the little town.

She'd need a vehicle to drive to the nearest city forty-five minutes away since there was no public transportation, and for a car you'd need insurance. Paul had removed her from all their insurance policies at about the same time he'd cancelled her credit cards and transferred all the money from their joint account.

She had no vehicle and no means of transportation, no way of getting around. They'd only ever had the one car since the old second hand one she'd bought years ago had given out not long before the marriage had.

Looking back, she realized that she was as much to blame as Paul and Jenny. She was the one who'd made the choice after all, to give up her own identity so that he could become the great surgeon he'd always wanted to be. She was the trusting fool who'd put all her eggs in one basket and given her care and livelihood over to the snake that was her ex.

It wasn't easy accepting her part in her own demise, but it was part of healing she supposed. Instead of shying away from reality as she had been doing, maybe it was time to take it all out and look at it for what it was. It was time to stop sugar coating things and remembering them the way she'd wanted them to be instead of the way they really were.

Maybe Ms. Lucille was right. Maybe the divorce had been a blessing in disguise. And maybe one day that thought might make her feel better. For now she chose to shove it aside before it had time to overshadow the rest of her day. As far as her mind was concerned, it was her biggest failure.

She looked around at her little rinky-dink apartment and sighed with relief that her first outing hadn't been the disaster she'd expected. Now with the morning's flagellation out of the way, she gave free rein to the excitement that had been bubbling just under the surface from the second that little white box had been placed in her hands.

Dropping her bag on the floor, she placed her new best friend on the table and headed into the kitchen. Grabbing a cold cup of coffee, she sat at the little broken down table and fished one of her stories out of the box, ready to transfer the words from paper to machine.

She read the little booklet that came with the computer and was a little flummoxed to find that she needed Internet connection to set the thing up. "Well crap." That was a little disconcerting after the high she'd been feeling only a minute ago. Then she remembered that there might be a way.

A few months back the new mayor had made a big deal over the fact that he'd single handedly brought Internet service to their little backwoods haven. She knew a little bit about free wireless connections so she searched around for one in the area and lucked out. That brought her second real smile of the day. They were coming easier now than they had in a long time.

She went through the mess of setting up a free trial with one of the better word programs and fought back the dread of what would happen when that trial was up. Today seemed to be the day she was finally ready to put one foot forward, because even that thought didn't nag at her for too long.

Running her hands lovingly over the keys, she said a quick silent prayer that whatever came of this would be for her good. She could do with some good. In the end she decided to forego the older stories for the one she'd started the day before and was soon lost once again in her reawakened passion.

She sat there for hours just tapping away, the joy of creating coming back to her with every word. She didn't feel the hours go by, didn't feel the crick in her neck or the hunger that made her stomach growl.

Words poured out of her as if they'd just been waiting there beneath the surface for release. When she started seeing the story unfold in her mind's eye, sucking her in, the characters coming to life on more than just paper, she knew she was on the right track.

She wasn't thinking about making it rich, she wasn't that delusional. But at least here was something that could take her away from herself if even for a little while, and she reveled in it.

She was startled back to the present by the loud banging on the door. "Who could that be?" Her first thought was that it was Paul coming back for her. He'd come to his senses and realized he'd made a huge mistake and wanted her to come home. Her heart raced for the first five seconds before she scolded herself for being a spineless ninny.

She pulled the door open and almost tripped over her feet. "You, what are you doing here?" He lifted a bag in the air that smelt like heaven.