Things Will Never Be the Same

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I expected my boyfriend Kevin at my house around noon. It was now going on 6 pm. My sister cancelled the dinner reservations.

We were going to The Melting Pot because Kevin said he’d never been. This was the night he’d meet my sister’s boyfriend. My nephew and his wife were at the house. We invited TJ because he and Kevin hit it off. Also, Kevin needed help with his car. He was bringing TJ cigars.

I needed a distraction and I wanted my bed moved. It’s a king-sized in a too small room, pushed up against the wall. Whenever Kevin visited, I was sidelined to the inside, so he could have his fan blowing on him. He liked to get all snuggled up under the blankets and imagine he was camping with the wind blowing and fire glowing.

He was my Fire and I didn’t mind making way for him.

I asked my nephew and my sister’s boyfriend to move the bed and dresser so Kevin and I both had room to get in and out. The bed was heavy. That’s why I hadn’t moved it before and why, as it turns out, my sister’s boyfriend hurt his shoulder. Anyhow, the guys finagled the angles and toyed with the ideal location.

Then it was done. I immediately felt happy with the way my bedroom looked—bigger, brighter and more inviting. Everyone agreed.

Just then, a thought ran through my head: And now nothing will ever be the same. The thought was bigger than the room. Like the wind. Like a whisper I refused to hear.

I tried to brush it away with positivity. “Kevin’s going to get here and see this and be happy we did it. He’s going to have some crazy story.”

Jayne’s boyfriend said, “Everything’s going to be ok.” I tried to tone down my glare, but my gut reaction was, “What do you know?” Still, I clung to hope.

Then, the police called back. And, nothing will ever be the same.

 

 

 

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