I really didn’t remember much about what happened right after the accident. I knew there was a lot of crying and people saying, “I’m sorry.” I couldn’t understand why everyone was saying that. It wasn’t their fault. Why were they sorry? I was the one to blame - I was the one who killed my destiny. I was the one that put the man of my dreams in his grave. It was all my fault. I had caused the accident, I wrecked the truck, and everyone should hate me. Why did they keep hugging me and telling me it would be okay? Didn’t they know this could never be okay? Didn’t they understand what I had done?
The entire funeral was just a blur. The thing I remembered most was the smell of the funeral home. It permeated throughout my entire being and I would never forget it as long as I lived.
I remembered sitting on the pew, looking up at the steel grey casket with the baby-blue lining, and thinking to myself that this was like watching a really bad movie. I just kept thinking Declan would sit up and look at me and say, with that sexy southern drawl, “I’m sorry, Lor, this was just a really bad joke.”
But of course, that never happened. I had to watch them put Declan in the ground as I listened to his favorite hymn being sung by his cousin Joan. Amazing Grace…God, I used to love that song, and even now when I heard it, I sobbed uncontrollably. Ten years had not lessened the blow of what happened that night.
“I really need to get out of this bed and get down to the barn,” I said to myself. When I got to the barn, I saw our farmhand, Jake Marshall. Jake was a sweetheart. He had worked for my family for many years. He was just a good ole country boy. He was in his late fifties with graying hair and a little bit of a beer gut. But really what old cowboy doesn’t have one of those.
Jake said in his deep, southern drawl, “Good morning ma’am, how are you feelin’ this mornin’?”
“How do I look like I feel, Jake?” I muttered back at him.
He laughed and started filling me in on everything that had been going on overnight. I managed the Harper farm now, just like my parents had always planned. My dad loved to spend his time down at the pond, or playing with the little ones, Sammy and Mags. I was so glad that I could do this for my parents.
The farm had been self-sustaining for years and it really made me proud that I had a hand in that. We had 20,000 acres and more cattle than I could count. We raised only the best and our reputation had spread across the state.
I could feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I answered and heard Emma say in her normal high pitched squeal, “How are you feeling this morning?”
“Not as good as you, apparently.”
“Aww, don’t be that way Lor, ya know you had a good time.”
“Yeah, I did. Thanks for making me go. We really oughta do that more often.”
“Hallelujah!” Emma said as she hung up the phone. She thought she had finally gotten through to me. My parents and Emma could not understand how I could possibly live without a husband.
My dad was always saying, “You need someone to take care of you, Lor. You do such a good job taking care of everyone else, but you deserve that too.” I know that’s true, but no man could ever live up to my Declan. I had never even looked at another man and felt anything remotely like what I felt for him.
So many things changed that night ten years ago. I couldn’t go back to school. I just couldn’t. I couldn’t face the other kids or all of the memories of Declan that lived in those halls.
My mom and I decided that instead of just quitting school and working on the farm, she would home-school me until I felt like I could go back and graduate. I didn’t want to tell Mom, but I was pretty sure that day would never come.
When it was time for my home-schooling to start that September, I felt like I was ready. My mom had gone to the school and got all my books and information. The first day of school had always been so exciting. Declan and I got to reconnect with all of our friends, and we could find new hidden places in our little school to sneak away for a make-out session. But that year was going to be so different.
On the morning I was supposed to start my homeschooling, I woke up feeling really crappy. It was like I had the flu or something. Mom came into my room and held a cold cloth on my head. She tried to bring me some breakfast, but when she walked in my room with the scrambled eggs she had made, I barely made it to the bathroom before the puking started. It was awful. I was so sick! Mom called Dr. Hudson’s office and made an appointment for me for that afternoon.
I have always hated going to the doctor. I can’t explain it, I just always had. We walked into the clinic and my stomach immediately flip-flopped. Just seeing all of the horrible, old paintings on the walls, the old green shag carpet, and the chairs in the lobby that probably hadn’t been cleaned since before I was born, made me want to run away screaming.
Before we left the house, I had been feeling a little bit better. I had actually been able to keep down some toast, and my stomach hadn’t felt quite as upset.
Dr. Hudson came in and started his normal exam. He took my temperature, checked my blood pressure, listened to my lungs, and pressed on my stomach to check for
