REVOLUTION MIND
PUBLISHING
www.RevolutionMind.com
Copyright © 2016 Melanie Ambrose.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 Melanie Ambrose. All rights reserved.
The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in any retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher is expressly prohibited and is an infringement of the copyright law.
ISBN: 978-0-9739362-5-4
Cover and Interior: David Ambrose, Revolution Mind Publishing.
www.RevolutionMind.com
Author Photo: Mathieson & Hewitt Photographers, Calgary.
www.mhphoto.com.
Revolution Mind Publishing
info@RevolutionMind.com
RevolutionMind.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
To my husband, David,
who is my one and only true love.
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
About The Author
As I sat in the reception room waiting to be called into Paul Lambert’s legal office, I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of being very much alone.
While waiting, I took the time to reflect on how my life had changed over the past few years. I thought about it all—not with sorrow—but with a fleeting feeling of wonder. Unbeknown to me it would change forever when September rolled around.
I was an only child and was raised in New Jersey. My parents, Frank and Rose Lambert, bought the house where I grew up, about six months after I was born. I lived there until I finished college. It was the only place I knew as “home”.
I had always been good with computers and art, so I wanted to do graphic design as my major. During my last year of studies, my friend Carry told me she had landed a dream job.
She had seen a notice on our College bulletin board that asked for anyone who was interested in joining a new graphic design firm, to grow with it, and help make it into one of the best in New York City.
She had promptly ripped the page from the board and made an appointment.
The person she met had been attending the same college as we did, and had then worked for four years in his parents’ basement, setting up his own firm.
His name was Terry. He had recently scored some big names in the corporate world, and suddenly found himself needing staff to keep up with the increasing workload. He had decided that he wanted fresh new ideas rather than hiring people who may have set ideas from having worked for other firms. So he decided to try employing fresh grads.
When Carry got the job, Terry told her he had another four positions to fill and if she had anyone else in mind to send them to see him. Thanks to Carry, I was one of the fortunate ones to get a job before I even finished my studies.
Other friends who were also about to graduate filled the other three positions. We were all going to be working in New York City with a new and upcoming firm with people we already knew. This was very appealing to all of us.
We actually started work before graduating, since Terry needed us to start on projects immediately. He also needed to find office space large enough to fit all of us.
He found a very funky office. Instead of each of us sitting in one of those God-awful cubicles, he chose to sit us, including him, at desks that were placed in a circle, so that we could all see each other and bounce ideas off one another.
It was a great job for someone straight out of college and the freedom to offer ideas added to our creativity and sense of accomplishment. Because of all this, we got on well together and started to see the company grow.
During this time, we all graduated and needed to find places to stay in New York. Carry and I were very lucky to find an apartment that we could afford and that also enabled us to walk to and from work, saving in taxi fares. It was small, but we each had a room to ourselves.
I still made a point of traveling home on the subway at least every month to visit my parents.
My life up to this point had been very easy going without much drama. But all that changed one day, when on a visit home, I could sense something was wrong as soon as I walked in.
It was always good to go home again to see my parents. As I opened the door, I would always get a smell of freshly baked cookies.
It was such a comfort to me when I entered the home. It always smelled of something good that Mom had baked or cooked.
“I am home!”
The cookie aroma permeated the air as usual, but I could sense something was not quite right. I tried to block the thought from my mind, thinking that I was just being silly.
They were both so happy to see me, although Dad had a vacant look in his eyes and Mom seemed on the verge of tears. When I asked what was going on, they said it was nothing to worry about, to come and have a cuppa and cookie, and to tell them about my job and how life was in the big city.
Over dinner, my parents broke the news that my mom had been diagnosed with cancer and that the prognosis was not good.
It took a while for me to absorb what they were telling me. Then I just burst out crying, and between sobs, tried to ask all the questions that were crashing around inside my brain.
The shock was almost too much to bear. I could not come to terms with what was happening. My mother had always been healthy and full of life. She was only fifty-five years old. She was going to die soon and here I was being such a baby about it, when she needed the support and probably a good cry too! I pulled myself together and gave her a big hug. I told her not to worry since I would move back home to take care of her and Dad.
She would not hear of it. She told me that she had been through all the stages of grief already. She said that she was now at peace with things the way they were, and she was just worried about what this would do to my dad and me.
Apparently, Mom had battled to fall pregnant and I was what they called “their miracle baby”; so it was just me. Despite trying, they were never able to have another child.
They had decided to try chemotherapy but it did not seem to be working. They then made the decision to just live each day and celebrate their life together until the end came.
Mom had already made peace with the whole thing, but for Dad and I, it was too terrible for words. Later that night, I sat with him and we both had a good cry.
“What are we going to do, Dad? How are we going to cope without her? Will she suffer?” I had an endless list of questions racing around in my brain.
Regardless of how we felt, in the end we knew we just had to be strong and do our best to make life as happy and as comfortable for her as possible.
I went back to New York with a very heavy heart and each weekend from then on, I traveled back home to try helping out over weekends, so that they could have some time off. I could see that my mom was no longer managing much and my dad was starting to show signs of fatigue from cooking, cleaning and taking care of the love of his life.
The end came sooner than we had expected. I got the dreaded call in the early hours of a Friday morning.
I threw some clothes into a bag in a daze, not really thinking of what I was doing. Everything I did seemed to be done on autopilot.
As you can imagine, it was a very hard time for us. After a week of putting together her funeral and service, I found myself having to return to work.
I did not want to leave my dad since he was still having difficulty coping with the loss of his beloved wife. I could hear him walk around at night while I was lying in bed and sometimes I could hear him cry softly into his pillow.
Feeling that he needed me to help him get through this difficult time, I made the decision to move back home for a month while still managing to pay for my half of the apartment rental in the city.
When the month drew to an end, I found that I really could not move back to the city. I wasn’t happy about leaving Dad by himself in this large house.
It was a hard decision to make. I was now traveling longer hours to get to and from work, and it was exhausting. I had to let Carry find another roommate, since I could not keep paying for a place that I was no longer using.
Besides all the traveling, I had to cook and tend to the housework, given that my dad was doing absolutely nothing during the day.
I had to sit down with him and draw up a list of what he could do to help me out. These duties seemed to get him motivated to start living again.
Even though he started coming alive again, I could see he was no longer the dad I remembered. He still had me in his life but the love of his life had gone, and so had his light.
I loved my dad but when I looked at him, I realized that he was just going through the motions. There was no lightness or enjoyment for him.
I was suddenly the adult in the house, having to make all the decisions.
We lived like this for almost a year, and then one morning I woke with a sudden feeling of dread. The house was silent. Upon entering my parents’ bedroom, I could see that my dad had died during the night.