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At 59 years old, Roger and I met via an online dating site. His mother still can't believe he actually used such a thing. First date was at an English pub named The Falconer. He gave me a picture of flowers he had painted. Rog was a contractor by trade and I was an administrative assistant. I was using my nickname, "Lacey". He shared with me about his late wife, Linda. I paused and told him my real name was also Linda. I was Linda once again. We had fish and chips with a few beers. After dinner, we walked around Market Night. He walked me to my car and as he gently put his hands around my face, said he forgets faces sometimes and gave me a soft kiss goodnight.
Roger fell first and I needed convincing. I've always dived fast and furious into a relationship and, I was surprised to learn, so did he. A dear friend informed me when I told him I had found someone special I had kissed enough frogs and finally found my prince. Rog must have been kissed by enough princesses and was just waiting for me. We had many relationships between us. We each were in our 5th long-term relationship/marriage. This was the longest for me outside of when I was with my sons' father and felt different. I could relax with Roger and actually feel comfortable knowing our relationship was good. I didn't worry or feel the need to cut bait and run. Neither did he.
We met in July, I turned 60 on December 23rd, we married on December 27th, and Rog turned 60 on December 30th! Our family included one Chihuahua, two female felines, two granddaughters we would watch on occasion, one grandson, assorted children, and us. We spent most of our time alone until November of 2017 when my nine-year-old grandson spent 13.5 months with us. I actually grieved when we had to take him back to his mom.
Five years, seven months, and one week after that first date, as soon as I woke up one Wednesday morning, I texted "come hither" to my love. This had become our good morning ritual and was the way I checked to see if Rog was still at home or if he had already left for his day at work. Within minutes, he walked into my room carrying a bowl of Cheerios. He was already dressed and said his boss had called him to go do two little service jobs. Since it was raining and he was going to start staying home rainy and very hot days as he was getting ready to retire, I was surprised. Boss was insistent, I guess. Rog said he was feeling melancholy and thought he might as well be working.
Rog brought me coffee and, when my tummy started rumbling, he brought me toast and jelly. We had a leisurely morning with him not leaving until 9:15. We talked more of when he would retire, what we would do, where we would live. All too soon, he kissed me goodbye and left for the office. He said he'd be home early.
As usual, I drank my coffee and watched TV until I got hungry. My mind was set on turning last night's leftover salmon into an omelet. I walked into the kitchen about 10:45. I stopped in the middle of the room and said out loud, "Something isn't right. Something is wrong!" I pushed through my feelings of unease, made my omelet, and took a picture to send to Rog. Waited patiently for his usual comment about how I never cook this deluxe for him and it didn't come. Ever.
My day was normal except I hadn't heard from Rog. I kept checking his phone and it kept pinging at the same location. I figured he was doing work at Starbucks. I was scheduled to pick up my granddaughters at 5:00 p.m. Did dishes. Walked the dog. Decided to do his laundry. At 2:45, I sat down on the floor and started sorting. Held up a shirt and said, "I don't know why I'm doing this. No one is going to wear them. It doesn't matter." I got one load into the washer and it sat there several days.
I do not know why I had these signs. I had a few in the past and only one turned out true. I was uneasy as I had never gone so long without hearing from my soulmate. I left messages. Phone was still in the same spot. About 3:40, his boss called and asked if Rog was at home. He had never reached the first job. I told them he was missing as he hadn't responded to me. I was so worried. At 4:00, I called my daughter-in-law, Michelle, and let her know I wouldn't be able to watch her girls as I didn't know where Rog was. She checked the emergency room at the hospital where she worked and found he wasn't there.
At 4:06, I received a phone call from another hospital. They asked if I was me and I said yes. They started hemming and hawing about Roger and I came right out and asked, "Is he dead?" They said they usually don't give this information over the phone and I asked again. Yes, they said. He was in an accident about 10:50, had to be cut out of his truck which took an hour, made it to the ER, and to surgery then started coding in the ICU at 2:54 and was finally pronounced at 3:32 p.m.
I called Michelle who left work and met me at the hospital. I called Roger's eldest, Leah, and told her the devastating news. She handled the other calls. Roger's son's girlfriend, Margo, had called me earlier as people were messaging her looking for him. I told her on the phone yet when she arrived, it hadn't sunk in. I had to tell her again. She told Paul, Roger's son, while we were on the way to their house to get him.
Part of me refused to believe it until I walked into his hospital room almost 90 minutes later. Having Michelle with me calmed me. Paul and Margo were finding a parking space while Michelle and I went upstairs. She went in first to be sure I could handle. I walked in and saw my beloved partially covered on a bed. Tubes and wires were exposed. I quickly covered him to his neck in order to not upset Paul and Margo any more than they were already. We were told a distracted driver had lost control of his huge truck and hit Rog's little truck so hard both vehicles leapt into the air. Witnesses said the killer had been texting and speeding on wet roads. Rog was just sitting in his car, waiting for the light to change.
Two years, six months, and 24 days. Sometimes, I'm better. I'll always have Rog in my heart and soul Sometimes, I feel as if this is my worst nightmare.
Lee Hudlocke was nothing special. He worked as a writer in an old newspaper company from nine to five. He lived around the block in a broken down brick apartment and took the bus to and from work. He walked to the grocery store when he needed frozen lasagna and he walked to town square when he needed a new tie. Besides those little moments to and fro, he stayed in his cozy abode and kept a somewhat quiet entity. Lee Hudlocke was nothing special, and this he knew.
It was a Thursday night, nine twenty three when it happened. He sat on the swivel chair, sitting anxiously as he stared at the blue light that casted a shadow across his face. A hot cup of tea rested in his jittery hands, his fingertips wrapping around the porcelain glass, the nerves in his hands racing towards the warmth that emits. He had gotten the call around six that night, an hour after he had gotten off work. Normally he?d be at home by then, the short distance from the office to his house usually calming the loud static in his brain, but he had felt troubled all day and he couldn?t figure out why. So instead of walking his usual route home, he takes a detour that leads him to the local park. He sits on the bench near the playground and smiles slightly as he watches a little girl with pigtails and a big pink bow in her hair march up and down the sidewalk holding a little rag doll. He watches as she holds her hands up in the air, her bottom lip in a pout, and her feet bouncing anxiously. He watches as what he assumes to be her father, picks her up and tickles her side. His smile falls and he uses this as his out. He makes it to his building and buzzes himself in, unlocking the door and throwing his keys in a dish and toeing his shoes off at the entrance. He looks at his watch; 5:35 it reads. He sighs and collapses onto his beaten down couch and closes his eyes.
At exactly six, he?s awoken by his phone abruptly ringing. He scrambles for his phone groggily, and when he finally finds it, he doesn?t even bother looking at the caller ID, and maybe that was his first mistake. He puts the phone to his ears. A beat. Silence. And then that voice comes through on the other end. The voice he hasn?t heard in a real long while. He sits up.
?Hey Lee,? a soft metallic like voice says on the other line. Lee?s breath hitches and he wills for his voice to break through, but no sound comes out and he can physically feel his heartbeat pick up. The woman on the other line must?ve sensed that he wasn?t going to say anything, so she speaks up. ?How uh, how have you been??
Lee thinks that his cheek is wet, and he doesn?t remember when he started crying. He doesn?t even think he was crying. It was one measly tear that fell, that?s all. But he thinks about her voice and everything else that he hasn?t thought about since it happened and the tears start threatening to fall faster than he wished. He swallows and struggles as he attempts to fish out the words that are jabbed deep in his throat. ?I?m uh, I?m? I?m good. Yeah I?m good? he stutters out, his voice very obviously trembling.
?That?s good to hear Lee? the woman says, and he thinks he can hear the small smile that he knows is plastered onto her lips. It pulls a smile onto his own face. A very very small one, but it?s still a smile. It falls just as fast as it came when he realizes who he?s talking to again. He clears his throat.
?Why?d you call Cass? he asks, and it comes out a little harsher than he?d meant it to. He can hear shuffling in the background and the sound of a door closing, the sound of crickets chirping make it through the line faintly. He can hear as she sits down on what he assumes is a porch swing by the creaky wood and chains. She sighs.
?She would be turning eight this month? the woman says, her voice quieter and almost more secretive as before. Lee shuts his eyes tightly, his fingers turning white as he grips the phone in his hands tighter with every shaky breath. He relaxes as he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his fingers returning to their normal peachy color.
?Yeah? he says softly, like if he were to talk any louder, the little sound barrier they had created would shatter. ?That?s not why you called though, is it Cassie??
Cassie sighs and it?s quiet once again Lee looks up from the floor and over to his fridge, his eyes scan over to the white piece of printer paper that writes out ?happy burthday dady!? in sloppy, colorful writing, hanging up by a ?Thanks for visiting San Francisco'' magnet. Lee closes his eyes once again as another salty stream of tears ricochet down his cheeks. He?s pulled out of his thoughts when Cassie begins to talk again.
?No. It?s not? she says quietly, and Lee wants nothing more than to hang up the phone and fall into his bed and never wake up again. But there?s also a part of him who deep down misses this, and a part of him will always still feel deeply for the woman on the other line. He wants to hear what she has to say. So, he listens.
?I?m uh -? she pauses. ?Wow this is harder than I thought huh? she says, a tearful laugh escaping her lips. ?I?m getting married, Lee '' she says happily and that sound barrier finally takes its last crack and shatters.
Don?t get him wrong, he knew this was bound to happen at some point, knew that it was only a matter of time and there was nothing he could do when that time came, and he was happy for her, genuinely, but a part of him didn?t expect it to be so soon, so... Right now. He looks up at the side table next to him and picks up a picture frame. In the frame stands a little girl in white stockings and a flowery dress, her hair is pulled back in a braid and she?s got the brightest smile he thinks he's ever seen in the entire world. Next to her stands a young woman who looks like an older version of the small child. She wears her brunette hair down and a long red dress. Her hands are interlaced with the younger ones. On the other side stands a young man. He wears a proud smile as he looks at the two girls, his hand also interlaced with the younger one. Lee smiles. He remembers that day so clearly, the scene playing out in his head like a movie. A drop lands onto the cover glass and he wipes under his eyes rather aggressively.
?Lee? Please say something? Cassie says, desperation laced in her tone. Lee hates it. He takes a shaky breath.
?What do you want me to say, Cass?? he says rather harshly and he can almost feel her cringe away through the phone. But because it?s Cassie, he knows she?ll snapback. She does.
?Oh I don?t know, that you?re happy for me, maybe?? she says with the same aggression he started with. He sighs and drags his hand down his face.
?I?m happy for you Cassie, seriously, I just -? he stops himself. In all honesty, he doesn?t actually know what to say. How does he tell her that he?s upset that her life is moving forward and he?s stuck at where he started. He can?t do that to her. She?s happy and it?s not her fault or responsibility that he?s not. So he changes the subject instead.
?Do you ever think about her?? he asks He doesn?t think it was a very good subject change, in fact, he doesn?t really want to talk about it. He hasn?t talked about it since it happened. But he brought it up and it was too late now.
?Of course I do. She was my child Lee, I can?t just forget about her? Cassie says truthfully before sighing. ?Look, what happened to us was shitty Lee. How do you start a family and then get it taken away from you just as fast? The world is unfair. But you can?t beat yourself up for what happened.? Lee is past the point of tears by now as broken out small sobs escape his lips. He can hear Cassie through the line sniffle.
?Lee?? she says softly, delicately, like she might break his dam even further.
?I was in the car with her Cass. I should?ve looked on both sides and I didn?t.? Lee says out brokenly.
?Sweetheart, we went through this when it happened. The cops even told you it was your right away, no one saw it coming. You can?t beat yourself up for it anymore. You deserve to move on.? Cassie states, and he wants nothing more than to wrap his family in his arms, wants nothing more than to feel okay again. But he can?t. And he doesn?t know how. He wipes under his nose and his eyes and inhales a deep breath before exhaling.
?Yeah?? Lee says softly. ?I?m happy for you Cass. Genuinely.?
?Thanks Lee.? Cassie says, and Lee can hear the smile return in her voice. ?Hey? I read one of your articles the other day? she says softly and Lee?s eyebrows raise slightly in surprise.
?Oh. Yeah??
?Yeah. You?re a great writer Lee? I think you should do it? Cassie says and Lee?s confused for half a minute before it hits him.
?No. I - I can?t Cassie. I can?t do that. Our story is just like everyone else's. Why would it matter?? Lee says fast, doubt and denial leaking through his tone.
?No one is saying our story is special or out of the ordinary Lee, but you might help someone who has gone through the same thing. Make them feel like they aren?t alone. You remember how it felt when it happened to us? We had no idea how to feel. People read your writing Lee. You might help someone? Cassie quipped. Lee had never liked the idea even when Cassie had brought it up back then as well, but he doesn?t want to say no to her, doesn?t really want to deny that idea. And besides, maybe she?s right. He hears a door open and another faint voice break through.
?I?ll be right in? Cassie calls to who Lee assumes is her Fiance. He sighs. ?I gotta go Lee? can we talk again soon?? Cassie asks softly, almost scared of his answer. He chuckles out a soft laugh.
?Yeah yeah, for sure. I?ll see ya around Cass.?
?Bye Lee? Cassie responded before the line clicked dead. Lee gently lowered his phone from his ear and exhaled. The dam broke and before he even had a moment to stop it, broken sobs were escaping his lips as he got louder and louder. He put his head in his hands as he tried, and failed, to catch his breath and regain his posture. There were some days that were easier for him, and then there were days like today when it all caught up with him and became too much. He thinks about Cassie and how she seemed to hold it together so well, how she managed to move on and leave it all behind, how she could do all that and he couldn?t. But then he remembers the days where he held a sobbing cassie in his arms, remembers the nights he stayed awake incase she awoke in a panic. He remembers it all so clearly, but the difference is that she moved on from it and he?s still stuck in this emotional turmoil that he can?t seem to leave. Whereas Cassie is fire, where she burns bright and zestful, Lee is the rain, where he comes and goes as he pleases and floods when he wants. Nobody likes the rain, they wait it out for a rainbow, which for Lee, never seems to come.
He picks himself up off the couch and pads his way to the kitchen. He pulls out a tea bag from the cabinet and pours hot water from the kettle that was sitting on the stove into his favorite porcelain mug. He walked down the hallway to his bedroom. Tears are still falling off his cheeks as walks, but he doesn?t care anymore. He sits down at a stained wooden desk near his bed and opens up his laptop.
Lee Hudlocke was nothing special. Nor was his story. It was just like everyone else?s. But there are things that do make his story his. And though sometimes he forgets this, he?s glad he was reminded today. He thinks that someone out there might be feeling lost just like him. So, Lee sits at his desk, a computer sits on the broken wood. An open document stares blankly back at him. He rests his hands on the keyboard and types out a headline.
?My worst Nightmare. A story by Lee Hudlocke?
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