3

Story Two

"Donnie!" Laura called out as she quickly sat up in bed.

"Donnie," she said weakly. She wept into her hands. "Why did you leave me?"

Her husband of almost 5 years and the love of her life had been gone for nearly 3 mo, nths and still, the memories of their life together consumed her. They had loved each other all their lives and had decided to wait until they were each established in their careers before devoting their lives together in marriage.

It had been such a shock to her. His death had come so suddenly. She never expected to find him lying dead beside her in bed on that cold winter morning.

She had had another dream, and like the others, this one felt so real. She had been having these dreams a lot lately. She attributed it to the coming of what would have been their fifth anniversary.

Like so many of the other dreams, she felt so close to him. She felt his presence, like he was in the room with her, touching her, caressing her.

She laid back and swept a hand over her breasts. She could feel her nipples through her nightgown. Her nipples were already charged. If only it hadn't been a dream. If only Donnie had been there. She let her hands wander down between her legs. She was damp with the state of arousal. How she longed for his touch.

She moved her hands back up and rubbed her flat belly. She felt so empty, so unfulfilled. They had been trying for a baby for the last three years without any results. Now she felt as if she would never know what it was like to feel the fruit of their love growing inside her. How could she? Her true love was gone and she was alone.

Laura wept silently to herself. Why? She wondered. He had come to her so many times in her dreams. In her dreams they made love. And in her dreams, she bore him a child. Why had fate been so cruel to her?

Laura got up and reached for her robe. She knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anytime soon. She went downstairs and out the back door. She found herself walking out towards the seashore like she had so many sleepless nights before.

The full moon provided an iridescent glimmer on the water, and enough light for her to see by. The sand felt soft and wet with dew in the spring air. The spell of blooming flowers intoxicated her. The rhythmic sound of the waves crashing against the seashore was soothing. The crisp night air felt good on her skin.

Her aunt had been good enough to let her stay at her summerhouse on the beach. She had to get out of the townhouse she had shared with her beloved husband. Too many memories reside there now. It was still too painful for her to face alone.

She walked along the seashore for what seemed like hours. She was lost in thought as she walked. Everywhere she looked, she could see Donnie. They had vacationed there a few times. Memories of him chasing her on the sandy beach overpowered her like the waves thundering onto the beachhead. She couldn't escape them.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she began to run. She couldn't think. She didn't know where she was running from or going to. She just needed to run. In her mind, she could see Donnie in the water showing her how to body surf, and up on the beach running with a kite trying to get it up in the air. She saw him up ahead in the distance wading in the shallow tidal waters.

Suddenly Laura stopped running. Through her tears, she was sure she saw a blurred vision of him walking along the seashore. His pant legs were rolled up to almost his knees and his hands were in his pockets. The wind was coming from behind him and blowing his dark wavy hair. She tried to blink away the tears, thinking it must be a hallucination.

She thought her fantasies were becoming real. But when her eyes were clear, he was still there.

From a distance, he looked so much like her Donnie. Her curiosity got the better of her and she ran to him. She knew it couldn't be possible, but her heart leaped into her throat with excitement.

"Donnie" she called as she got near to him. She wanted to throw her arms around him and never let go.

"It's a beautiful night for a stroll along the beach." He spoke with a heavy French accent.

Laura's heart nearly broke. She bit her bottom lip to hold back the tears. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else." She directed her eyes down toward the sand and turned to walk away.

"This Donnie is a fortunate man," said the man with the French accent, "to have captured the heart of such a beautiful woman."

Laura was now consciously aware of what she was wearing. She hadn't planned on running into anyone on the beach in the middle of the night. She reached down and cinched the belt on her robe tight.

She turned to get one last look at him. Oddly enough he looked so much like Donnie, he could have been his twin. But she knew in her heart of hearts, her Donnie was gone, lost forever.

Slowly, sadly, she turned to walk away.

"If I have offended you in any way, please accept my sincere apologies."

Laura stopped in her tracks. Tears streamed down her face, as she was overwhelmed with grief. "It is not you, nor anything you have done. When I saw you strolling along the shore, I thought you were him. I should have known it couldn't be true."

"This Donnie, he is your lover? Your husband?"

Laura took a minute to answer that. At last, she drew in a breath, and quietly said, "Was. He was my husband, I mean. He's gone now though. He passed away 3 months ago."

"Oh, you are still grieving. Forgive me. I have seen you walking along the beach quite often lately. I did not know."

Laura turned to face him; her sandy blond hair blew in the breeze. "I came here to get away for a while and now, more than ever, I find myself thinking and dreaming of him."

"You have suffered a great loss. Your heart is weeping. This is not something that will heal overnight."

Laura found herself looking into his eyes. Even in the moonlight, she could tell he had the same compassionate green eyes that Donnie had.

"But of course, you want to be alone. I will go. Forgive my intrusion on your memories."

Laura reached out and grabbed his hand. "No, wait. Please. I have been alone in the house with my memories for several months now. I wouldn't mind the company."

The Frenchman looked down at her small hand holding his large hand and smiled at her. "Well, alright then. But if I am to keep you company, then I insist on knowing your name."

Laura smiled a sincere smile for the first time in a long time. "It's Laura,

Laura Brightman."

The Frenchman took her hand and kissed it. "How do you do, Madame Brightman? I am Philip DuRoult, but I insist on Philip."

"Philip," she repeated as she looked deep into his eyes. There was something so familiar in them.