California Dreamin' Ch. 01

California Dreamin'

Once upon a time... isn't that the way all love stories started? I wondered what had happened to my life ever since... ever since it happened and destroyed my life.

She was coming home with our daughter, coming home from shopping, bringing the groceries for the anniversary party that evening, and it was all gone, killed by the drunk driver that turned into her path and hit her head on... killed my wife, killed my child... killed my life. I was going to kill the driver but God and physics did it for me.

I had to leave, had to leave the Southern California that we had loved and so I moved as far away as I could, to Indianapolis. The money from the house, insurance and the lawsuit was enough that I never had to work again.

*****

All the leaves are brown

And the sky is gray

I've been for a walk

On a winter's day

I'd be safe and warm

If I was in L.A.

California dreamin'

On such a winter's day

*****

Three years later... I had transferred to the Indianapolis police.

It was cold outside... bitterly cold. The snow had built up on my car and I hoped that the door hadn't frozen shut. I was able to open the trunk and get out the scraper to remove the snow from the windshield. I used the auto-start to start the car and defrost the window, hoping it wouldn't crack from the temperature difference. As I walked around the car I could hear the crackle and crunch of the snow beneath my feet. Satisfied that I had pushed enough snow off to see safely, I moved to open the door and was happy to see that it slowly moved enough that I could get out of the cold. Moving from Southern California to Indianapolis had seemed like a good idea at the time but now I wondered what was I thinking. I closed the door trapping the rising heat inside and rubbed my hands together, feeling the cold crackle as my fingers moved.

I listened to the radio as the car warmed up, waiting for a few minutes until I was sure the engine was able to move the automobile away from the parking lot. The sky was a dark gray along the horizon and I was sure that the day would turn into a blizzard.

I just wished that the violence in the east side of the city would go away.

My mind drifted back to Anna, one of the neighbors who was a fundamentalist Christian and believed in the literal Bible. Every day she would try my patience, trying to draw me into a debate over what was in the ancient book. Much to her consternation, I was more versed in the sacred scripture than she and easily bounced back her arguments, one after another until she would storm down the street.

I drove out of the snow-covered parking lot and headed down the street, only slowing when I came near one of the school buses. It was cold. I could see the car exhaust in my mirror, blocking the view behind me. Thank God, I thought, that it was Friday and I could use the weekend to get out of the frigid weather.

A half-hour later, I pulled into my garage and sat in my car as the door slowly came down and closed me off from the outside world. I got out of the car and walked into the house, locking the door behind me. Taking off my shoes, I put on my slippers and walked upstairs to the den to watch "hulu's" shows from the night before.

I chose "The Orville" and while the show started I took off my coat and then sat down on the recliner, leaning back and nearly falling asleep. I was more tired than I thought, for some reason. Maybe it was my lonely life, living by myself.

I fell asleep.

*****

Several hours later the phone vibrated, stirring me from my slumber until I finally woke and looked at the screen. It was the older couple next door that I had somehow made friends with, inviting me to dinner.

I texted back, saying I would love to come although I was still tired. I saw that it was getting late, so I turned off the television, washed my face, and put my coat back on. After putting on my shoes, I drove to the town's liquor store and bought two bottles of fine Asti Spumanti sparkling wine and headed back to my house.

*****

"Alan, I'd like you to meet our niece, Marie. She just got here from Paris."

"Bon jour," I said, using up most of the French I knew. "Welcome to America." I looked at the cute girl in front of me.

"Thank you," she replied in perfect English with just a hint of an accent that I found so appealing.

"Have you been to America before?" I asked.

"I grew up here before my parents moved back, taking me with them. It was hard making the move for me, I much rather would have stayed in America but who listens to a young girl, you know?" There was a look on her face that showed great sadness.

Just then her parents entered the room and if looks could kill, I was sure I'd be dead.

Introductions were made; her father stood against the wall, a tall, hulking man with a no-nonsense look on his face. Her mother had a scowl on her lips and I wondered what caused such a reaction to someone they just met.

"Well... it's time for dinner," said Claudette, taking the two wine bottles from me and placing them on the table. She quickly arranged for the two younger people to sit together, away from the grumpy parents who were at the other side of the table.

It was a quiet dinner, I not knowing what was safe to say and when it was time to go, I quietly asked Marie if she'd like to see a movie with me sometime. Much to my new-found happiness, she said yes and I promised to call the next day.

*****

I decided to take her to dinner instead of a movie. I wanted to talk with her, to find out what she was thinking, what she wanted in life. I realized that I had been alone for too long.

"I used to live in California," I started to say.

"On the beach," she finished. "I know, my aunt told me why you moved to Indiana. What a change for you. It's very similar to living around Paris, as I see... I mean the weather."

"I hadn't thought about that. I guess you're right." I laughed at the thought of it. "You have better food."

Our steaks came, the sizzle on the plate watering our mouths. She had ordered the ribeye while I had the porterhouse.

"So, what are your plans? Going back to Paris? Or trying your luck in America?"

"I'll probably go back, unless there was something to keep me here. I'm an American citizen, so that's no problem."

We ate in silence for a short while, looking at each other quietly, wondering if there could be something.

"Would you like dessert?" I asked as I put my knife down and looked seriously at her.

"Yes, thank you, if it's not too much trouble."

The server approached to take our dessert orders, an order of carrot cake and one of cheesecake for her.

When dinner was finally over, I offered to take her to my house to watch television. She readily agreed and a short time later we were at my home viewing a film from my DVD collection, "MI-6", a Tom Cruise movie that took place in Paris.

When the movie was over, I walked her back to her aunt's house where she kissed me on the cheek and went inside.

*****

Monday arrived quicker than I thought possible and I couldn't get the French girl from my mind, her accented voice living in my imagination.

I was in a good mood; Terry, my friend and partner, commented on my way of looking. "So, Alan, what's got you so happy?"

"Oh, just time to feel better, I guess. You know, it was just time."

"I'm glad. You were down in the dumps for the longest time, I mean, what with your wife and all."

*****

The week brought in a number of new shootings, bringing the year's six month total to over 350, a number too large to comprehend for what was supposed to be the peaceful Midwest of Indiana.

The worst was a little four year old girl hit with a stray bullet as she lay in her bed for the last time. Her mother was inconsolable as the coroner took her away. I was crying, unable to take the pain from her. I thought I had grown past it; my emotions still were unused to the loss of such young life.

*****

"It was a bad week," I said to Marie. "A little girl was killed for no reason and it breaks my heart. Sometimes I don't know what to do."

She didn't know what to say, my world was so different from her own.

I looked at her and decided to say what had been on my mind. "I was thinking," I started to say, "you know how you're... I mean to say, I've got a good job, a nice house, some money in the bank; you seem to like me... uh, what do you say we get married?" I surprised myself, asking her, suddenly unsure if that was the smartest thing to do.

"Married? That's sudden." She blushed in the evening light.

"I'm not sure when you'd return to France and wanted you to know how I feel."

"Let me tell you tomorrow."

*****

"I saw you on the television last night, about the little girl that..."

"Yeah, it was sad, so sad; I really didn't know what to say."

I reached out and held her hand. "What did you decide?"

"I talked to my father. He said if I don't marry you, then I shouldn't marry anyone. You can be a good provider. More importantly, I like you and that's what really matters."

"So, you're saying 'yes'? It doesn't bother you that I'm 35?"

"Yes, I'm saying 'yes'... but I have to go back to France to get my clothes and quit my job at city hall. I have almost ten thousand euros in the bank. Is that all right?"

"So, when can we get married?" I couldn't believe it was happening, what had seemed to be just an impulse.

"When I get back in a couple of months, how's that? You know I'm only 22."

"Great." I pulled her to me and kissed her, our first real romantic kiss... and I could feel her respond to me.

*****

"He beat you, didn't he?" I covered the woman with a blanket from the bedroom as she was still in shock. There was no answer.

The dead man lay on the floor, the blood slowly seeping into the rug. She had shot him at close range. The report would just refer to a home invasion.

That night I took her gun and drove out onto the 56th street causeway that crossed the Eagle Creek reservoir and flung the gun out into the water. Good luck, I thought, for anyone trying to find it. Street justice.

*****

The two months dragged and yet moved by quickly until I was at the Indianapolis airport waiting to welcome her to her new home. I had come to realize that my lost wife wouldn't mind; it was just something I was sure she would welcome into my life.

"Welcome home," I said, carrying her luggage along with her father. "I understand your clothes will be coming by FedEx, later."

"Yes," she replied, walking with her mother who still had a look on her face every time she saw me. I was sure that she hated me but couldn't figure out why.

*****

The wedding was wonderful. The priest was a friend of mine and although Marie wasn't sure how the holy man could counsel us seeing as how he had never been married himself, he approved the wedding to take place at St. Malachy.

But later that night, at the hotel, as I came out of the shower, Marie changed her attitude toward me, saying "It's time, just stick it in and get it over with."

I looked at my bride, surprised at what she had said. I knew that she was a virgin but I never expected this. I kissed her on the cheek and said that we'd talk to in the morning.

The next morning, we were having breakfast in the hotel restaurant and she looked at me with a red face. "There's something I've never told you," she started to say, "I was molested by my cousin and it's never gone away. I'm sorry, I should have said something but I just couldn't. I didn't know if you would still want to marry me and my mother never wanted me to get married; she wants me to stay home forever and be her... servant. She owned me."

"Oh, Marie, I'm so sorry that that happened to you. I would have still married you. I like you very much and know that we will grow to love one another as time goes by."

She reached her hand out and held touched me lightly, sure, I thought, that she had made the right choice. "I was nineteen when it happened. My father stopped him from... you know, and my mother didn't want to talk about it, wanting to keep it quiet and not cause problems with the family. I don't think she ever really loved me. They even had an apartment on the third floor of the house for me to live in."

"Damn," I replied, wondering how a woman could do that to her daughter. "Well, you're with me, now. Ready for the rest of your life?"

Marie gave me a shy smile and took my hand as I rose from the table, left a fifty dollar bill on the check and we both went upstairs to get our bags.

We drove to Chicago for a week-long honeymoon. At night, I held her gently, satisfied that with time she would welcome me and be my wife. It was just a matter of time, I thought.

*****

As the days went by Marie felt more and more at home and she began to make the small changes that made the place her home, too. I welcomed what was taking place as she moved things here or there although sometimes I had a hard time finding where things went.

By the time I got home each night she had dinner ready and waiting. I wasn't as tired as I had been since I now had somebody to come home to and I had a different attitude to life. Terry laughed each day and noticed the change in me.

Dinner that night was raspberry clafoutis which I had come to greatly enjoy.

*****

My face was buried in her hair. Holding her in my arms, I felt a fullness that had been missing for years. I moved my hands along her spine; I rubbed my thigh against her hip.

She needed me. The soft sounds she made told me so. For a long time we lay in each other's arms. I hadn't been thinking of sex when I took her to bed, I just wanted to hold her in my arms.

I might have restrained myself if her actions didn't tell me that she wanted me too. My body moved to hers, pressing into her heat. I had to have her. Her thigh was already moving over mine when I entered her and by the time I was fully inside her fingers were digging into my back.

"Listen, we have lots of time," I said, holding her closely to me.

*****

The next thing I remembered was waking up in the hospital bed, the medical machines making their mournful beeping and the room dimly lit. I had my eyes slightly opened and could just make out Marie sitting next to the bed in the darkened room and I wondered what had happened to me.

"Tu es reveiller! You're awake!" She ran to the door and called for help and soon two nurses entered and began to read the various machines that were connected to me.

"Alan! Oh, Alan... I was so worried." She held my arm as I lay there on the bed.

Soon, a doctor came in and began to confer with the nurses and then spoke to Marie as they gently pushed her back from the bed and onto her chair.

"He's awake, now. That's good. We were beginning to worry that he wasn't going to wake up. Soon, he'll be able to go home."

"Marie... Marie..." I tried to say but the oxygen tube made it hard to talk.

The nurses removed the various medical connections on me except for the IVs and adjusted the bed so I could sit up. Marie kissed me and held my hand, tears slowly flowing down her cheeks.

"Marie... how long? Where am I?" I still didn't understand what had happened.

"Two weeks," she replied, holding my hand like it was her only connection to reality. "Terry..." She began to cry again. I knew it was bad.

"What about Terry?"

"He's dead. He was shot first, through the windshield and then you were hit along the head and that's what put you into a coma."

"Dead? No, that can't be." My best friend and partner was dead.

"Oh, Alan, you're going to live. I was so afraid for us."

"Mrs. Truesdale, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the room for a few minutes while we take care of a few things."

She refused to leave the room. She had spent the whole time in the hospital room, sleeping on the provided chair.

I felt the bandages around my head, covering where I had been shot and realized how close I had come to death.

*****

As the day progressed, different high ranking officials came into the room to express their thanks for my surviving the ambush that had killed my partner two weeks earlier. Terry's wife was now a widow with three kids, making me wonder if staying in the police force was a good idea now that I had remarried. I didn't need the money and had just stayed in law enforcement for the rush. I'd have to speak with Marie about it. I figured I knew what she was going to say. No one wants to be a widow at 22.

*****

"I could use some whiskey... actually, I'd like some rum, maybe a wallbanger with orange juice." I laughed and immediately regretted it as my head throbbed, still smarting from the gunshot that I had been hit with.

"Alan... rest... you need to take your time with your wound. You almost died, you know. Terry is gone, now, and I would have died without you. I've come to love you for what you've done for me and..." Marie began to cry, the weight of what had happened crushing her in the dimness of the room.

I had no idea that she felt that way already. At least she wasn't a widow.

"Marie, sweetheart, I'm thinking of retiring from the police department. It's not fair to you. But first, I've got to catch whoever killed Terry and shot me."

"Alan, I'm going to worry every second you're gone." She put her hands to her face and began to cry again.

*****

I didn't know it would take me three more weeks to leave the hospital and go home. It took a while before the bandages were removed. I had a hard time walking and used a walker to get around the house. I was dependent on Marie to just exist and I could tell that it was getting her down. She wasn't ready for this. And then, I was finally able to walk on my own using a cane but it was with a lot of pain and I almost fell several times, finally landing on my recliner when my legs gave out.

One time I passed out and the next thing I knew Marie was slapping my face trying to wake me up.

But the higher ups were determined to retire me with a disability ruling and there was nothing I could do about it. And so, I retired at 35, years ahead of what I had planned but grateful for surviving my ordeal.

*****

I got out of the car slowly with my cane for support as I approached the house with my wife who was now doing the driving. I knew life would never be the same unless I could find a way to beat my condition.

I sat on my recliner and turned on HBO. Marie moved the video to youtube and put on Dalida, homesick for something in French. I didn't mind, wanting to learn the language so that we could travel to Paris.

Later we listened to Claude Francois. I liked his style but Marie said that he was a hard task master for the women in his videos. He was electrocuted in the bath by a falling lamp.

I decided to surprise Marie with tickets to Paris. I had never been there and was looking forward to the trip. I hoped that she would like it.

*****

I watched the ground approach with the television screen in the first class section of the plane, holding Marie's hand as we came closer to Paris' Charles De Gaulle and finally the plane landed with a sharp squeal of the tires.

She had arranged for a UBER to take us to her family home which was in the Paris suburb of Viry Chatillon. We were there an hour later after playing tag with the French traffic.

Marie pulled out her keys to the house, watching to see her mother on the second floor balcony wave her hand. The driver helped with the luggage and I slipped him a 50 Euro bill for his trouble. Her father came down the stairs and took the bags up to what had been Marie's bedroom following the mandatory kiss on the cheeks.

Marie put our clothes in the armoire as I sat on the bed and then we went into the kitchen for a late lunch. I was still using my cane for support. To tell the truth, I was a bit tired from the trip but Marie was wide awake. The joys of youth, I supposed.