― Karen Perry
Clare
I’ve reviewed the eerie events of the past week and made a decision to try to contact my dead wife.
Where that leaves Clare, I have no idea, but my first loyalty is to Elaine—especially if by some miracle It turns out she isn’t really dead.
Yes, I know this type of thinking is insane, since I buried her, but it’s typical of the racing thoughts lately that course through my head.
When I left Clare in the afternoon at the pub, I promised to phone her later to let her know where I was in terms of what to do next.
I’ve got to admit Clare is amazing and never pressures me in any way. Maybe that scares me a bit — especially if things don’t end up going her way.
I’m assuming she has feelings for me as I do for her. But what if after spending all this time working through my emotional angst, I decide there’s no future for us?
That’s an outcome I find hard to face.
The old guilt feelings that characterized my relationship with Clare in the past are returning again to haunt me in the present.
Why did I reach out and involve her in this mess?
Sure, I’m attracted to her—who wouldn’t be? She’s beautiful, caring and there’s chemistry between us, but I’ve spent the last ten years mourning Elaine and I just don’t see how someone else could ever take her place.
I should have known before we re-connected, this was a bad plan from the start and could only end in heartbreak—probably for both of us.
This latter thought depresses me so I go for a drive and end up at the lake.
I sit sipping takeout coffee while watching long lines of lonely white waves.
The scene reminds me of a poem called Dover Beach about waves slapping on a rocky strand —a scene not dissimilar to what's before me.
One of the lines of the poem mention waves bringing the eternal note of sadness in.
That exactly describes what I feel— a life-long sadness. Could Clare with her youth and beauty ever manage to fill up that void? Somehow I doubt it.
I drive home with a heavy heart.
By the time I phone Clare later, I’ve already made up my mind. I tell her I intend to return to my old house the next day and meet whoever lives there.
If turns out to be Elaine or her living clone, so be it—but if on the other hand, it’s her wraith, then let heaven and hell be damned, I’ll gladly embrace her ghost.