One Moment Read online

  One Moment

  One Moment

  Elizabeth Savino

  To my family, you are my world. I love you body, heart and soul.

  Marlena, thank you for believing in me, may you find a man like Logan to be your puzzle piece. Love you.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author, and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. Any resemblance to actual location, persons, or events are coincidental. All Right’s Reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. The text in this manuscript or any part may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording without the written permission of the author. This manuscript shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent or hired out or otherwise circulated without the prior consent of the author in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

  Chapter One

  Starting Over

  I’ve been driving down this same stretch of road for the past four hundred ninety-seven hours (well not really, but it feels that way). The sign I just passed reassures me that I should reach my destination in about half an hour.

  Great.

  I have the music blaring in my big old Ford pick- up. When I say old, I mean really, really old. There’s a reason for the big truck; I can’t stand being in a small car anymore. So for me it’s this beat up truck. I know l can drive this without the fear of having a panic attack.

  Panic attack, now that was fun.

  Not really.

  I remember my first major one. It was January. I was living in New York; it was three months after our accident.

  I thought I could drive to the store, which was five minutes away from our apartment. I knew a longer drive than that was an impossibility. A few minute drive to the store I could handle, right? Wrong.

  Our apartment.

  No. Not our anymore, my apartment.

  It only took me twenty minutes to convince myself to get my ass in the car, with the door closed and engine on. This was an improvement; usually my internal pep talks weren’t successful.

  I thought I was successful.

  Huge mistake.

  Huge.

  The snow had just started falling. It was freezing out. So cold I could see my breath. I stuffed myself into my very attractive (not) down jacket. I was sad. Beyond sad. My chest felt heavy as though there was a weight on top of it. My eyes swollen as I had just been crying (for the millionth time that day). At least I was showered and had some lip gloss on. Victory.

  Routinely I started the engine, put the car in gear and started to drive, I also started to think. My mind was conjuring up memories. This was not a good thing.

  Flashbacks.

  It happened in a moment, I felt completely trapped in my car.

  Really trapped.

  Lack of oxygen, no escape.

  My heart was racing. My breath shallow. Sweat formed on my face and my body felt cold yet sweaty. My hands and knees were shaking, uncontrollably.

  Too many bad memories. I jerked my car over to the side of the road quickly, luckily not hitting anything or anyone. I threw my car into park and felt myself scrambling as I blindly reached for the door handle. I needed to get out of my car.

  Immediately.

  I was looking for an escape, fresh air. As I scrambled out, I tripped and fell. I was crawling on all fours reaching out blindly until I was touching my car. I pulled myself up using the side of the car for support. My quivering body refused to do anything but stay bent over the hood gasping greedily for air. Forcing myself to breathe deep. Hoping to calm myself down enough to be able to drive back to our, no my, lonely apartment.

  An apartment that was once filled with laughter and love. Now only silence and tears.

  I finally calmed down enough to pull in a lung full of much needed air. My body’s trembling was subsiding, I continued to just concentrate on my breathing. Counting them as they went in and as they went out. The black that was starting to invade my vision was clearing as I started to breathe deep. What I didn’t know was a Good Samaritan pulled up along side me.

  First of all he scared the shit out of me. I was so engrossed with trying to actually pull some much needed oxygen into my lungs that I didn’t notice or hear him stop. Then when he touched my shoulder I turned and screamed in his face which in turn scared the shit out of him.

  He then made me cry harder. This is because he thought I was in labor. I mean come on. I admit, I do like a chocolate chip cookie or a sweet once in a while (all right, daily) but I am a size seven, and I know I don’t look pregnant (at least I really, really hope I don’t….no, no way I don’t!).

  It was that damn puffy down jacket that I will never, not ever wear again. It was at this point, as I stand on the side of the road finally breathing, that I came to the forgone conclusion that puffy down jackets should be outlawed. Even if I was freezing and in Antarctica studying the mating rituals of penguins, polar bears, and other arctic animals, that jacket will not be on my body.

  Well needless to say, that comment snapped me out of my panic attack (quickly) because let’s face it, I was then too busy being pissed at the jerk (well, he was really nice to stop but come on, pregnant!).

  I told him quickly I was fine and hastily hopped back into my little Honda Civic to return home, never to set foot into that car (or jacket) again. I sold it for a loss (the car that is, the jacket I gave to good will), but I needed to get rid of it.

  So that leaves me in my new, but very old truck. It was an impulse purchase, not like I was shopping at the supermarket and buying a pack of gum. But I needed to leave town quickly before I went completely insane.

  Someone was selling it on Craigslist, I thought, for a steal. I told myself that when I settled down in Texas I would get a different (read: newer) vehicle. One that doesn’t have as much rust, or make as much noise when starting, and maybe consisted of one color. But once I sat my ass in this truck I knew I could manage the drive. So I bought it.

  Reaching over I turn the knob on the volume to the right, cranking the music up a little louder (to almost ear splitting) hoping that if it’s loud enough maybe, just maybe I will be able to forget for a little while. Praying the music will drown out my memories. That or make me deaf. I just keep my fingers crossed that I don’t blow out the speakers in this old heap. Right now music is my only companion on this trip, and I’m enjoying its company as best I can.

  When my friend Jenny saw my “new ride” she had a look of shock or maybe horror, on her face. She knows what I have been through so she tried to be gentle with me. That still didn’t stop her from informing me that she feels this truck should have been put to rest, her words, “years ago.”

  My mind conjured up vivid mental images as I drove through some of these old towns of being pulled over by the police for playing my music too loud. This must be the consequence of watching Footloose while drooling over Kevin Bacon one too many times as a kid.

  Fifteen minutes later I check my gas gage, the red light indicating that my tank was almost empty had caught my attention a few miles back. I pull into the next gas station I see, which also serves as a mini mart.

  My stomach growls, loud. Reminding me that I haven’t had anything since my cup of coffee and half of a muffin this morning.

  Considering it’s almost three in the afternoon, I decide that this girl needs some food. I may as well pick up a few things while I’m here.

  **********

  Texas seems beautiful; at least what I have allowed myself to glance at every once in awhile. Although I may be surrounded by beauty, it doesn’t matter anymore. My world will always be a dull grey from now on. The beaut
y and color that used to paint my world has now been extinguished.

  I’m trying to move forward, start again. Leave my broken, empty life behind in New York. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. If I say it enough, maybe I will even start to believe it.

  I was not leaving much behind in New York.

  A small apartment that we owned, a menial job as a sales clerk that was going nowhere, fast, and too many bad memories.

  Memories of my only family that I had left, my older sister Grace and her beautiful little girl Ellie.

  Now they’re gone, like everything that I have ever loved.

  I will never let myself love again. All anyone’s ever done that I love is leave me. Not by fault of their own, well except my Dad, but I’m alone none the less.

  The only person left that I care about is Jenny. My best friend in the world since second grade. Inseparable since she claims she tried to “fix” the ribbon on my dress, when in fact she really pulled my pretty bow out.

  In retaliation I pulled her long blonde pony tail, hard. Our teacher Mrs. Carlozi sent us outside the classroom, not allowing us to return to class until we apologize to each other and made up. We have been best friends ever since.

  We’ve been there for each other through menial childhood problems which seemed like the end of the world when it was happening, to adult problems that were more serious.

  I was there for her when her Dad passed away from a sudden heart attack; she was there for me when I lost both of my parents.

  Jenny was the only one I confided in when my boyfriend Steve was becoming abusive while I was dating him. She is the one who I called after my last and final argument with Steve.

  Jenny rushed into my apartment not knowing if she would encounter the abuser himself, she didn’t care. That’s when she found me in my bathroom. Black eye, bruises and bloody lip. She cleaned me up and made me swear to never see him again.

  Then Jenny got together with Grace and a bottle of wine. Some plotting was calculated. Before anything serious was done to Steve I promised, no swore, to never see him again and to call the police if I did.

  Unfortunately at the time I was blinded by love and believed Steve when he said he was sorry. Jenny, Grace and their wine intervention helped me see that I was in an unhealthy relationship.

  Jenny always listened first and then judged. Gave an honest opinion whether you wanted to hear it or not and I did the same for her.

  Through the loss of my sister and niece she has been a shoulder to cry on, my rock, my friend. We have been inseparable. Although I know she didn’t want me to leave and move across the country, she understood why I had to. Why I needed to get away from my daily surroundings. The constant memories that were slowly killing me inside.

  Jenny understood my desire to get away and fast. Our little apartment that Grace and I had saved up for and bought together sold quickly. Jenny told me she would take care of the closing, to just go, start over. Try to be happy.

  She kissed my cheek, we hugged like we never wanted to let go. Then she smacked my ass and told me that I better call, often. With tears in my eyes, I drove off.

  **********

  After I put gas in my truck, I pull to the side of the store and park. I need to do some food shopping and buy some other necessities. My GPS reveals that I should be arriving at my new destination soon. I seem to be just a few miles away.

  I quickly glance at my reflection in the rear view mirror and cringe at what I see. Light green eyes stare back at me that not only have seen too much in their twenty seven years, but the blue smudges under them proving that I have not slept a good night in, I can’t remember how long. Thick auburn hair hangs halfway down my back; I run my fingers through it trying to tame the knots in my loose curls from the wind blowing through the window.

  Haphazardly I pull it into a pony tail. I slap on some clear lip gloss mentally giving myself a quick pep talk, “this is a new start, everything is going to be all right.” It’s only then that I open my door and step out.

  Inside the food mart I immediately feel a blast of air conditioning. It’s hot here in Texas. Hotter then I thought, and it’s a dry heat. I have been trying to ignore it. I stand unmoving in the entrance, my body stiff from sitting behind a steering wheel, soaking in the relief from the cool air.

  After paying for my gas I look around the store, it’s cute, it seems like it has most thing’s a small supermarket would. I decide to grab a basket and start to peruse the shelves. I have a little time before I need to arrive at my new destination.

  My new home, my humble abode. Checking the watch on my wrist, I see that I have about a half hour before meeting with my new landlord to get the key.

  There are a handful of people in the store, I notice that the few men in here are quite large; I guess things are bigger in Texas. I allow myself a half a smile at my own joke, that’s it. Not a full one. I remember I used to laugh and smile all the time. That was before my world ended.

  **********

  My world ended when my sister, my niece and I were in a car accident. The three of us were inseparable, always doing something fun together. That October night we were on our way home from Ellie’s ballet recital.

  It started out as an absolutely fabulous evening. Ellie was beautiful. In a pink sparkling leotard, pink tutu, hair in a French braid that she would only let me do.

  I surprised her that day with two clips for her hair. Pink butterfly clips covered in crystals. She was so excited about them that she ran around the room with her hands in the air laughing and twirling. That was pure Ellie, so full of life.

  We were driving home, the night was clear. I was in the front seat with Grace. Grace was driving. I was facing backwards singing a song that was on the radio with Ellie. I heard Grace curse, loud, which is something she never does in front of Ellie.

  Screams.

  Broken glass.

  My head smashed against the window.

  Then everything went black.

  The police came into my hospital room to make a report. I couldn’t give them much information, as I didn’t remember anything. I do remember that I kept asking about my sister and niece. They wouldn’t answer me so I started to get loud.

  A nurse came in with a counselor. It was then I knew things were not good.

  It was then I found out things were horrible.

  My life will forever be changed.

  Grace and Ellie were both dead.

  DOA.

  Three letters that changed my life, forever.

  My body went into shock after they told me about Grace and Ellie. I couldn’t breathe. They tried to calm me, but I couldn’t breathe.

  No air.

  I think it was my body’s way of telling me that it didn’t want to breathe in a world that didn’t include Grace and Ellie. It was then the doctor nodded to the nurse who immediately injected something into my IV. Then everything went fuzzy, black.

  Grace and Ellie were my only family I had left. Mom and Dad had passed away two years from each other. Mom died from Cancer eight years ago. She was only forty-eight. Dad we swear died of a broken heart (and drowning his sorrows with alcohol) two years later.

  My parents were soul mates, and when Mom passed, Dad checked out. We tried to get him to do things with us, but it was always a battle. He would stay home and just drink. He wasn’t a drunk, didn’t yell or get nasty. I think it was his way to numb his pain. To forget that he was alone on earth without the love of his life. Unfortunately we couldn’t be what Dad needed. He needed his wife. It was two months after Dad passed that Grace found out she was pregnant.

  So it was Grace and I against the world. We were sisters, but we were more than that. We were best friends. She was only two years older than me. I loved having her as my sister. Well, maybe not so much when we were teenagers, but we grew up and so did our friendship.

  The only thing I couldn’t stand was her choice of boyfriend. John Moreti. The father (or sperm donor as I like to think
of him) of Ellie.

  You know when you just know something isn’t right with someone. I could never put my finger on it but John was a creep. He also spoke in third person. Who does that? “John is tired,” “John’s hungry,” and when he was first trying to win over Grace he would refer to himself as Johnny. So it was “Yeah, Johnny likes you in that outfit,” or “Johnny thinks your ass looks hot.”

  Seriously. I was often tempted to ask who this Johnny was and when he was coming over. But I held my tongue. For Grace’s sake. Why she put up with him, I still wonder. Grace was smart, beautiful, and funny. I guess I will never understand why him. She would always tell me, “You can’t choose who you fall in love with. Your heart chooses for you.”

  I can understand that, I really can. But did Graces “rose colored glasses” really hide the creepiness that was John?

  Jenny hated him with a passion too, so at least I knew it wasn’t only me with these feelings. It wasn’t me just being overly protective of my sister. Or thinking he was so arrogant that he liked to hear his own name out of his mouth, often.

  His friends that I had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting were also creeps. Grace lived with me during her pregnancy, and the first three years of Ellie’s life. John was present, but scarce at the same time. Does that make sense? Then suddenly he was there all the time, trying to be sweet and devoted. I saw it for the act it was, but Grace was fooled. And she wanted to do what was right and try to have a relationship with him, for her daughter’s sake.

  Grace then decided to move in with John. I was not happy about this but had to support my sister. I would miss having Ellie and Grace around all the time. Thankfully they just lived a few miles away from me.

  Even I have to admit, John was very convincing that he was the “good guy.” Still, something was off with him.

  This only lasted a short time then thankfully, Grace left John. This was about a year ago. We moved her and five and a half year old Ellie back in with me. My apartment was livable, but it was small. Really small. That’s when we decided to buy an apartment in a cute building down the block.