AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Georgie shivered as the camera panned up along sharply creased black slacks to a man’s long-fingered, manicured hand bearing a platinum wedding band. The little girl’s hand slipped through his.
A close-up of the child’s face came into view. She was seven or eight years old, blond and angelic, wearing a black velvet dress and a delicate strand of pearls.
The camera pulled back. A solemn-faced boy of about the same age took the man’s other hand.
Cut to a wider angle showing the tall, lean man and two small children from the rear as they walked across the manicured lawn. A shade tree appeared, a broader stretch of lawn, more trees. Some kind of stones. The angle expanded.
Not stones at all.
Georgie pressed her fingertips to her lips.
A cemetery?
Suddenly the man’s face filled the screen. Skip Scofield. He was older, more distinguished, and perfectly groomed, as all the Scofields tended to be. Crisp, short hair, tailored black suit, a respectable dark burgundy tie knotted at the neck of a white dress shirt. And deep lines of grief etching his handsome face.
Georgie shook her head in disbelief. He couldn’t possibly—
“I don’t want to, Daddy,” the girl said.
“I know, sweetheart.” Skip picked her up. At the same time, he wrapped his free arm around the boy’s thin shoulders.
Georgie wanted to scream. It’s a sitcom! It’s supposed to be funny!
Now the three stood at the side of an open grave with black-clad mourners in the background. The boy buried his face in his father’s side, muffling his words. “I miss Mommy so much already.”
“So do I, son. She never understood how much I loved her.”
“You should have told her.”
“I tried to, but she didn’t believe me.”
The minister began to speak off camera, his resonant voice familiar. Georgie narrowed her eyes.
Cut to the end of the service. Close-up of the coffin in the ground. A handful of dirt landed on the polished lid followed by three puffy blue hydrangeas.
Cut to Skip and the minister—the minister who had no place being a minister. “My condolences, son,” the minister said, patting Skip on the back.
Dissolve to Skip and his two weeping children standing alone by the grave. Skip went down on his knees and drew them close, his eyes squeezed shut with pain. “Thank God…,” he murmured. “Thank God, I have you.”
The boy pulled away, looking smug, almost vindictive. “Except you don’t.”
The girl splayed her hands on her hips. “We’re imaginary, remember?”
The boy sneered, “We’re the kids you could have had if you hadn’t been such a jerk.”
Just like that, the children vanished, and the man stood alone at the graveside. Anguished. Tortured. He picked a hydrangea from one of the floral arrangements and lifted it to his lips. “I love you. With all my heart. This is forever, Georgie.”
The screen went dark.
Georgie sat there stunned, then shot off the bed and stalked into the hallway. Of all the… She raced down the stairs, across the veranda, along the path, and out to the guesthouse. Through the French doors, she saw him sitting at his desk, staring at nothing. As she charged inside, he jumped to his feet.
“Love letter?” she cried.
He gave a jerky nod, his face pale.
She shoved her hands on her hips. “You killed me off!”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “You…uh…didn’t think I’d kill me off, did you?”
