Shine - Terzanelle

 

Shine 

 

In Eyes of hazel, disarming and deep,

Oft radiant, cherish the way she shines,

Emblazoned her gleam on my sacred heart

Unaware of her magnificent glow,

She rises above our earthly dismay,

Oft radiant, cherish the way she shines

Where once she battled infernal discord,

Her tempered heart soothes untold lamenting.

She rises above our earthly dismay

Her love balances the world on a string,

A shining reflection of tenderness,

Her tempered heart soothes untold lamenting

I cannot deny the quicken she gives,

To the deepest recesses of my soul,

A shining reflection of tenderness

It’s not enough to say these simple words,

In eyes of hazel, disarming and deep,

To the deepest recesses of my soul,

Emblazoned her gleam on my sacred heart

Copyright  © m.henry 2024.  All rights reserved

The Struggle - Pantoum

 The Struggle

The sun rises on another cloudy day,
He awakens from another sleepless night,
Of the dreams he had he will never say,
The struggle to stand is always a fight

He awakens from another sleepless night,
Never certain of what the new day will bring,
The struggle to stand is always a fight,
His collateral damage is an awful thing

Never certain of what the new day will bring,
He can never forget where he’s been,
His collateral damage is an awful thing
He can never forget the things he’s seen

He can never forget where he’s been,
He finds it hard to stay in the game,
He can never forget the things he’s seen,
A life of service has left him lame.

He finds it hard to stay in the game,
Of the dreams he had he will never say
A life of service has left him lame,
The sun rises on another cloudy day

Copyright  © m.henry 2024.  All rights reserved

The Veteran - Sestina

 The Veteran

The morning he came home as a Veteran,
He didn’t feel the joy of love
He didn’t feel the pride of his duty,
He believed his mission was done with honor,
Though his part was small, and he wasn’t a hero,
He came home proud only to be humble

He quietly loved his life and family and he stayed humble,
He never announced that he was a veteran
He never wanted to feel like a hero,
He wanted to find peace, with integrity and love,
He simply wanted to forge a quiet life of honor
Doing what was right was still his duty

The word echoed in his mind, “duty”
A word that always kept him humble
His civilian life was one of honor,
And he started liking his life as a veteran
He began to think of his service with love,
And he began to see a volunteer as a hero

Something happened when he saw selflessness become heroic
Something happened when helping became duty,
It wasn’t about pride, it was about love
Learning to love himself made him truly humble,
That was what it was to be a veteran,
That was where he truly found honor

He served not for glory, but for your honor,
He served because those he loved were truly heroes,
Those at home were why he was a veteran,
And he saw that end-of-service was never end-of-duty,
He always held watch, ever so humble
Freely given to all with love

He never expected anything in return, but a little love
He volunteered not for glory or honor,
He continued to serve to keep himself humble
Little did he know that he became a hero,
To those with which he shared the same sense of duty,
To those who also wore the hat of a veteran

He never wanted the love of a hero,
He only wanted to honor his duty,
In his life as a humble veteran

Copyright  © m.henry 2024

Haunted By You - Freeform

Haunted by you

 

Visions of you are all I have known,

I have seen your face as I have grown

 

You come to me in the dark and now daylight

I run to you in sleep and all through the night,

 

Elude me you have until this very day,

I will hold you close to hear what you say,

 

Your lips do not move with the voice in my head

An apparition to some, to others you are dead

 

Your words make no sense but still fill my thought,

I wonder now why today you have been caught.

 

I let loose and you stay and point at the hue,

You take my hand and we go; I am dead too.

Of Beauty and Grace

Of Beauty and Grace

She walks with a grace unknown,

Through days of tedium,

And nights of loneliness,

She rises to meet her life

She rises for the love of her children,

For the unconditional love of strangers,

Needing the love and light of an angel,

Risking her own heartbreak at every turn.

She shelters a light in her soul,

That keeps her hopeful,

That sometimes shows through as a sparkle,

Seen in her eyes so deep,

like a glittering flame of indigo.

She walks with a beauty unknown,

A shining smile on the darkest days,

With a dream to find a love to match her own,

To rekindle a spirit lost long ago,

Locked in a cage around her heart,

Patiently waiting for a heart-shaped key

She dreams the dreams of lovers,

When the night is quiet and the silvery moon,

Spills through the window into her empty bed,

To give her solace, to wipe away her tears,

That have fallen far too often,

And for the wrong reasons

She knows not, how the rest of the world sees,

The remarkable soul she possesses,

The compassionate heart she shares,

She is a vision of beauty and grace through and through,

Who doesn't know she is someone else's dream

© M. Henry, June 2013

The Pledge - The first writing I ever posted to Social Media blogs (circa 2007)

The Pledge

            The night was warm and still as he lay in bed.  There was a full moon that night, placing her splendorous form in silhouette.  He watched her there sleeping by his side, and he thanked the stars for sending him an angel.  She lay on her side with her back to him as he gently stroked her long dark hair.  He enjoyed the feel of her silken hair and would spend hours, just moving it through his fingers.  She did not move as she deeply and peacefully slept.  As he watched her, he began to think to the future.  He could see them together, just a little older and with two children.  They are happy and comfortable and their children healthy.  That vision progressed and he could now see that they were even a little older, sitting in the swing on the porch in the twilight of the evening.  Their children now grown and beginning families of their own; the youngest just finishing college.  They are happy and comfortable and the children successful.

He placed himself in the shoes of his older self so he could look back at his life through his vision.  He saw many good things and some not so good.  He saw himself grounding the children for sneaking out of the house.  He saw a car accident that hospitalized him and nearly left his family without a husband and father.  He saw his wife there by his side day after day as he fought to survive.  He could see the pain in her face and could feel the pain in her heart.  He wanted to comfort her as he lay comatose in the hospital bed. 

He was proud to see the graduation of both of his children and loved them with all his heart.  They took after their mother in both looks and drive.  He could feel the bitter sweet pain of his children leaving home and having to realize that his little girls had grown into intelligent, responsible, mature, beautiful women, just like their mother.  He remembered their honeymoon, and how they fell asleep on the catamaran in Jamaica and had to be rescued by the coast guard.

He watched his entire life play out before him as he lay there beside the woman that was just a vision in his heart only year before.  He had one final vision.  He saw his wife of many years on her deathbed.  She was nearing eternal sleep and could not wake.  He could speak to her but could not be sure she could hear him.  He felt helpless and powerless to stop this event.  He loved her with everything and knew nothing else in life.  He missed her. 

He began to caress her face and held her hand.  He watched her face as he spoke.  Her eyes remained closed.  His eyes filled with tears as he pleaded with God to not take her yet.  He spoke to her one last time:

“You have been in my heart since I was a child.  I searched for you through my adolescence, but you were not there.  I prayed to find you and God did listen.  He kept you for me.  He kept you until he knew I was ready to handle the full weight of your love.  He kept you safe until he knew I couldn’t spoil a perfect union.  You came into my life like an angel and that’s how you’ve remained for all these years.  I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect mate, if I had made you myself.”

“You have given me a wonderful, beautiful family that means more to me than anything in the world.  You are my life, you are my love, and you are my wife.  You are everything I ever wanted and you’ve blessed me with riches far beyond my wildest dreams.  How did I get so lucky as to be loved so completely?  You are my best friend and my biggest critic.  You are my hero and my strongest adversary.  How will I be able to make decisions without you quietly guiding me?  You are a part of my soul, the air I breathe.  I did my best to make you happy and provide what you needed.  I pray that I was able to show you the kind of bliss that you have given me over the years.  You are my past, present and future.  You will always be with me and a day will not pass that I will not go to you.  But you take a big piece of me with you also, that will never be replaced until we are once again united.  I have asked God to take me in your place.  He has not answered.  You are my whole life.  How will I survive without you?”

He placed her hand on his weathered face and wept uncontrollably, and then the vision was over.

He gazed upon his lover sleeping next to him and began to caress her face.  He felt such an intense, all enveloping love, that the tears began to quietly fall.  He touched her cheek and wept not from the vision, but from the love born in the heart of his soul mate.  He whispered to his lover as she slept:

“I give you my heart completely.  I give you my love completely.  I promise to always be there for you.  I promise to always love you.  I promise to always provide and protect you.  I promise to give you the best that we can muster.  I’ve loved you since I was a boy when you were just a dream, but here you are in the flesh.  I promise to raise our children with tolerance and patience and love.  I give myself to you fully and completely.  This is my pledge to you, the love of my life.”

He kissed her softly on the shoulder and whispered “I love you,” as he snuggled up to her back.

She sleepily whispered, “How did I get so lucky as to find a man like you?  You will meet my every need and fill my every desire.  Our children will be beautiful and we will live happily together.  You will not be alone after I’m gone.  A part of me already belongs to you and our souls are entwined as one.  We were meant for each other and I know that God saved you for me.  I have loved you since I was a girl, and here you are….”

He hugged her as tightly as he could. 

 © m.henry, 2007

Breathless

Indigo Night

Indigo Night

The shadowy moon,

peered down upon us,
listened to the softness of your voice,
as it sweetly whispered,
hope into my ear.

You looked at me,
the stars twinkled,
from behind your eyes,
deep and brilliant,
like diamonds,
lost in a well.

They saw into me,

effortlessly at depth,

where few have been,

deeper still,

you found a spark, 

and gently lifted it,

from interminable slumber

Love flowed again,

from the tips of your fingers,

as they traced the line of my jaw,

and I pulled you closer,

to embrace your ethereal form.

Time stands still,
in a perfect embrace,
oddly natural and familiar,
as if we’d held each other,
a thousand times before,
I am home,
here with you,
in this perfect moment,
where the world dissolves around us,
and we float among the moon and stars,
and the love between two people,
never felt so pure,
granted us,
By the magic of the night.

© m.henry 2018

Working Title: Perfect Moment

The doorbell rang.  “What time is it?  7:30!  Damn!  She’s early!”

Mike had been seeing Erin for several weeks but this was the first time he had invited her to his house.  He was making good on a promise made when they first met.  He told her that he was a great cook and she naturally didn’t believe him.  So as any good pub hero would do, he promised to cook for her sometime; never really thinking about the consequences as they danced around one another.  Mike rushed around the kitchen in an attempt to make a go of it.  It was abundantly clear that he wasn’t a great cook. 

He quickly straightened himself out before going to the door.  Mike took a deep breath, put on his smile and opened it.  He saw Erin standing there with her back to the door as she seemed to take in the view.

“Well are ya gonna stand there all slack-jawed and gawking, or are ya gonna come on in?”  Mike asked in his usual sarcastic tone.

Erin turned and looked up at him.  “Just never you mind, Mister, I was just checking out the scenery!”  With a smile, she reached up and kissed Mike as she scooted past him on her way inside.  “I thought you said to dress comfortable?  I didn’t know that meant slacks!”  Erin stood there in her favorite pair of faded Levi’s with torn up knees, a small white top, and flip flops.

“Oh, I did say that!  I just haven’t had time to change clothes yet, with the cooking and all.”

“You get dressed up to cook?

“No, Smartass, I had to go to the office today!  You want a glass of wine?”

Erin followed Mike toward the kitchen.  “I’d rather have a beer if you have one.”

“Ah, a woman after my own heart!  Do you want that in a glass?”

“Just out of the can or bottle is fine with me; as long as it’s cold!”

“Like music to my ears!”  Mike turned around from the fridge, nearly running Erin over. 

“Whoa there, Tiger!”  She looked up at him with a sweet smile and batted her blue-green eyes as she took the beer from his hand.

“Make yourself at home.  I’m gonna go get out of these clothes and put on something a little more… wrinkly”

Erin casually looked around.  She spotted Mike’s iPod® sitting in its dock.  She picked it up and began scrolling his music library, “He likes Norah Jones?”

Erin looked toward the bedroom and hollered, “You like Norah Jones!”  She could see a shirtless Mike through the crack of the ajar door and admired his muscular shoulders.  She ogled his large tribal ink on his left shoulder.

“What are you talking about?”  Mike hollered back.

“On your iPod®. You have Norah Jones!  Looks like all of Norah Jones!”

“Ok.  Yeah, I’m busted.  It uh, helps me get to sleep!”

"Huh, he like Norah Jones," Erin thought as she returned the iPod® to the doc.  Norah started singing low and soft in the background.  Mike returned to Erin wearing his own holey jeans and his favorite vintage KISS Asylum tour concert t-shirt.

“So, I don’t have to be back in the kitchen for about another 20 minutes,” Mike said. “Would you like to go out onto the patio?”

Erin followed Mike out onto the large patio. She was pleasantly surprised by the warm  resort-like feeling of it.  Mike had been keeping this magnificent secret behind his commonplace home.  He clearly spent a lot of time out here.  There was a nice sunken gas fire pit with a couple of curved wooden benches complete with over stuffed cushions.  There was also a sealed box there with blankets inside.  The patio was made of paving brick that gave a warm and rustic feel. 

Beyond the fire pit was a Gazebo that covered an outdoor kitchen with granite counter tops that were at bar height where people could sit.  The gazebo was lighted and had two ceiling fans as well as a couple of flat screen TV’s mounted up in diagonal corners.  There was also an outdoor table that was nicely set for two people; a candle already flickering in the evening calm.  Mosquito nets were tied back in all four openings of the large Gazebo.

Beyond the decadent elegance of the patio was a spectacular west-facing view. Mike lived in the northwestern suburbs of Denver, far enough out to have home with enough land for horses.  The house was situated at the east end of a grassy valley that rose to the foothills of the Rockies.  Horses roamed in the valley below as the falling sun began to extend its crown of pink and gold light over the mountains.  Mike and Erin took a cozy seat in the fire pit facing the sunset; Norah’s soulful sound seemed to quietly fill the air as if coming from everywhere.

"You didn't say anything about this outdoor palace, " said Erin with an impressed sarcasm.

"I'm a bit of a tinkerer," said Mike," I have been building this patio for about three years.  This is my place of solace.  I have found that building this, has helped me to sort my thoughts.  It's sort of like how runners sometimes run to clear their heads.  I've been alone a long time and it can sometimes get pretty cluttered inside my own brain.  I don't know if I'll ever stop working back here.  I have plans to add a water feature.  It's a river that starts back there behind the gazebo and wraps around the front of the patio and ends up down there in a small pond."

"I'm a runner.  Well, a very slow runner.  I do find the urge to run when my day has been very hectic so I understand about needing to clear your head.  Now that I think about it, I haven't felt the need to run for that reason since I met you.  What does that mean?"

Just then, Mike and Erin locked eyes.  Both of them sheepishly looked down with soft smiles on their faces. 

To be continued???

Changes

Changes

Change my look, change my name.

Change my heart, change my fame,

Living strong, feeling weak.

Fear is life, love we seek.

Change my job, change my home.

Change the places, where I roam

Feeling good, hiding sad,

Keep on smiling, suppress the bad

Change my love, change my dreams

Change my views, change extremes.

One more minute, in the past

A dying life, gone too fast.

Change my verse, change my tune

Change my sun, change my moon,

Leave it all, the pain is great

Starting fresh, a brand-new fate.

Change it back, change it not

Change too fast, change too hot

Where am I, lost in me.

Who’s the person, I now see

Change my home, change my heart

Change myself, change my start

A familiar face, a familiar numb,

Bring me back, before I succumb.

© m.henry, 2007

Seven of Hearts

You are so close to me, 

We are one,

I feel when you love,

I feel when you hurt

I feel the many ways, 

In which you torture yourself,

In which you torture us

You are so gentle,

So loving, and so pure,

It hurts me so,

To watch you bleed over and over,

To feel you bleed

You cannot help it,

You need to love,

You need to feel,

You need to heal

Why do you torment me this way?

Time after time,

It hurts me just the same,

Yet I allow it to continue,

Always following you in,

To places filled with pain,

Places filled with regret.

I let you fool me,

Even when I know it is foolish to do so,

I want to believe your naïve truth,

And I want to feel your love.

I know you so well,

My foolish lover,

With whom I share my secrets,

And I still believe in you,

Even after all these years,

And all the anguish we’ve endured.

It’s been so long since I’ve felt your elation,

Maybe it’s time we give it a rest,

And let fate have a go,

My dear lonely heart.

© m.henry, 2007

Still

Still

It began long ago.

Long ago with a yearning,

A yearning to see your smiling face,

Your smiling face and your sparkling eyes

It was a yearning to feel the touch of your hand,

As how our hearts lightly touched so long ago

It passed so quickly.

So quickly and I had not the chance,

Not the chance, I had not the courage to pull you in

It’s a dance we’ve shared all our lives,

Synchronicity shall not be had

We orbit like planets too far from the sun

Our passings brief, our love fleeting,

Yet the sun still dimly shines upon us,

As the path ahead is shorter than the path behind

At each passing, I get older and grayer,

You remain as radiant as I remember you

It’s an ache

An ache that I’ve known all my life

All my life, an ache that is a part of me now,

A part of me that I can not let go of.

Fate and Time are cruel masters,

That promise much, but deliver little,

The ache remains.

It remains as a better ache,

Than the emptiness left behind

I love the thought of you still,

Even if our orbits do not pass again

© m.henry 2017

I Am The Storm

Fear me for I am the storm

I’m the destroyer of your heart’s destiny,

It’s your reality I will transform,

Fear me for I am the storm,

It’s with my heart you are adorned,

Love me with your fierce intensity,

Fear me for I am the storm,

I’m the destroyer of your heart’s destiny

Take cover from my leaden skies,

Do not open yourself to me,

Do not admire my breezy disguise,

Take cover from my leaden skies,

Do not bask in my temperature rise,

Don’t listen to what your eyes see,

Take cover from my leaden skies,

Do not open yourself to me

Fear me for I am the storm

Do not open yourself to me,

Take cover from my leaden skies,

I’m the destroyer of your heart’s destiny.

© m.henry 2018

Living in The Shadows - Short Story

Living in The Shadows

Benny never wanted much.  He was a simple man who worked hard and tried to live right.  His house was small, tidy and sparsely decorated but elegant in its simplicity.  His yard was finely manicured with a few shrubs and a tree in the middle of the front lawn. Outside and in, Benny’s house was nice and vanilla.  Benny drove a compact American car that he also kept immaculate.  It was practical and unassuming, perhaps what some would consider boring.  But that didn’t bother Benny.  He was content inside the rut in which he resided.

Like his house and car, Benny was as average as they came.  He was well groomed.  His hair and fingernails always cut, shoes shined and always wrinkle free.  As an accountant, Benny was fortunate to not to have to wear a suit to work.  Instead he always wore a plain or striped button down shirt with Dockers style slacks; never anything too bright or flashy.  Overall, Benny was a handsome fellow, but highly reserved and very plain.

Benny didn’t go out very often with anyone he worked with nor did he have any close friends that offered him an entertaining outlet.  He was dependable and never missed a colleague’s birthday, or a chance to wish someone well or offer them congratulations.  When Benny’s colleagues and few friends would talk to him, he was always gracious and quietly charming.  He was always there to lend a hand to a neighbor or an ear to a friend.  Yet, Benny spent most of his days quietly working away at his desk in his small sanitary cubicle.  When he was not busy maintaining his lifestyle, Benny would sometimes go on a hike over the nearby walking trails.  He used that time to clear his head and unwind from the world.  He would really enjoy these walks when he had something on his mind.

Benny would spend his spare time writing long mental monologues about his thoughts that no one would ever see.  He maintained several volumes of writings that he never read, nor would he ever read.  Benny wrote because he was alone in the world, with few to share his thoughts.  He used writing as a tool to solve his own dilemmas.  It forced him to sort out his thoughts to get them on paper.  It seemed like it worked well and he was content with his solitary life.  Benny realized that he was writing much more frequently, but he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him.

Benny began to slip at work.  He sometimes arrived late and he started to miss a deadline here and there.  He occasionally started to forego the ritualistic yard and home care that brought him so much pride, because he was spending all of his time writing.  For most, this would seem just like an occurrence of life, but for Benny, tardiness and untimely work were unheard of.  Yet these slips went unnoticed within his office, and on his block, because within Benny’s average perfection, he began to achieve average all around.

One day Benny started to feel ill.  He assumed it was just a bug.  He hadn’t been sick in many years so he was unsure.  He thought it best to take a day off work to try and get well.  But Benny didn’t get any better.  His symptoms of sickness got worse and the over-the-counter medications were not relieving his flu-like symptoms.  Benny decided he would take the rest of the week off and see a doctor.  He made an appointment but couldn’t get in before next Monday, four days away.  Benny climbed back into bed and went to sleep.

Monday’s doctor appointment came and went, but Benny was a no-show.  The office assistant called his house to reschedule but only got the answering machine.  The following Friday, Benny failed to show up for the monthly department meeting at work.  His boss asked if anyone had seen him, but nobody was sure if they had.  The following Tuesday, Benny’s boss looked for him at his desk and didn’t find him.  He again asked around the office if anyone had seen Benny.  Nobody knew for sure.  He called Benny’s home and got the answering machine.  The next day came and still no Benny.  Finally his boss called the police to make a courtesy visit to Benny’s home.

The police arrived a little over an hour later and knocked on Benny’s door.  No answer. The police then asked the neighbors.  Nobody knew if they had seen him.  The police decided to enter Benny’s home.  They found him in bed, just where he had laid down two weeks earlier.

Benny was cremated, and services were held four days later.  It was attended by just seven people.  He had no will and his estate was taken by the state.  Benny had a life insurance policy that covered his debts and funeral expenses.  Nothing remained but his journals.

One of Benny’s neighbors offered to pack up some of his things and she found the stack of journals.  She began to read them from the most recent, backward.  She had felt moments of levity as she read, but mostly she cried.  She cried for hours as she continued to read, and she cried for hours afterword, knowing that Benny died alone and unloved.  Within the beautiful loving stories and poems and random thoughts, she realized that Benny was just that; desperately lonely and unloved.  She realized that within the pages of Benny’s journals, lived the most beautiful, romantic, loving soul that she never took the time to meet; that nobody ever took the time to know.  It was then she realized it was not the flu that took Benny, it was a broken heart.  Benny wanted to love; he wanted a family.  He simply wanted a companion to share his thoughts with, but Benny was overlooked by everyone because he never rocked the boat.  He lived a decent and honorable life and he was invisible because there was nothing special in anything he did, except to do it perfectly; simply.

Benny’s neighbor took his ashes and spread them on the wind, high in the Rocky Mountains after reading that it was Benny’s favorite place on earth.

Sleep well, Benny.

© m.henry, 2010

Awakening - A short Story

Awakening - Short Story

So, what do you want out of life?" Kendra asked as they sipped their after-dinner coffee.

Frank was taken aback but knew full well the question was coming. He hesitated with his answer.

"Frank, what is it you want out of life?" Kendra asked again. "I don't mean right this second, but later on?" She knew that's not what she meant as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

Frank sighed, "You shouldn't ask questions that will get you answers you are not ready to hear,' he warned. His look was one of apprehension and concern.

Kendra sat back in her chair and looked down at her coffee. She was frustrated with the stonewalling and short answers she'd get when they would dance onto this subject. She closed her eyes for a moment to try to keep her emotions in check then pressed Frank a little more. "I think I should be able to judge when I'm ready for something. We've been seeing each other for eight and half weeks as of tonight, and I still feel like I don't know anything about you. We talk all the time, yet you say nothing. You send me flowers and cards, and my phone is full of your texts that are loaded with innuendos-"

Just then, the waiter returned with the dinner receipt. Frank placed his card back in his wallet and scribbled his signature across the bill. "I think we should head out," he said with seemingly little more than an acknowledgement to Kendra's plea.

Kendra's frustration grew as they quietly sipped their coffee before getting up to leave. They exited The Grille on Paseo de San Antonio and walked to the right to get to South Market Street. It was a beautiful evening in San Jose as the sun started to dip low. The summer sky was ablaze with the sun's last rays of the evening. Across Market Street, to the west, Plaza de Cesar Chavez Park was serene with the trees casting early night.

They turned north on South Market and slowly strolled a short distance with Kendra wrapped closely around Frank's arm. They were a striking couple, a pair that would make movie stars jealous. Both professionals in the tech industry, it was important to keep up appearances. Frank was tall and wore slacks or khakis most of the time. He also wore long-sleeve button down shirts to cover a couple of tattoos from his earlier, wilder years. This night he was wearing a sport coat. His dark hair was short and messy and he always kept a clean shave. Kendra was equally as stunning. She was athletic but not too thin. She had dishwater hair that flowed in buttery spirals down to the middle of her back, and she looked especially beautiful with the setting sun in her hair, complimenting her blue eyes.

When they reached the front of The Fairmont Hotel, Frank said to Kendra, "I'm not ready to take you home. Let's go in for a drink." Kendra agreed.

They entered the grand and luxurious lobby of the Fairmont Hotel. It was earthy in various shades of marble and granite. Once past the foyer, the room opened up to a large sunken area that was filled with overstuffed couches and armchairs intimately arranged in groups around coffee tables. On the back wall was a bar stocked with the finest spirits for the discerning pallets of their clientele. In front and to the right of the bar, a pianist sat at a baby grand, softly noodling away at contemporary melodies. It was a place to be lavished and it was a place to relax.

Kendra led Frank down into the bar area and found a softly lit table with an inviting loveseat. A waitress was quick to take their drink orders. "Good evening! Welcome to The Fairmont. My name is April, and I'll be your hostess for the evening."

"Good evening, April, I'm Frank and this is Kendra. Kendra would like-"

Kendra interrupted Frank, "I'll take a Cosmopolitan."

"And for you, Sir?" Asked April.

"I'll have Ciroc on the rocks with a lemon twist," answered Frank.

With that, April scurried away to get their drinks. "Why do you always try to order for me?" Asked Kendra.

"Honey, look at me." Kendra looked Frank in the eyes. "There are things you should know about me and it's time for me to step up and tell you."

Kendra felt a little uneasy with the way Frank was setting her up. She took a deep breath, "What is it? I really need to know more about you, but now I'm concerned that this isn't going to be good. You're not married are you?"

Frank hesitated.

"That's it! I can't believe it! You're mar-,"

Frank interrupted her. "I'm not married Kendra, at least not yet-"

"Oh my god, then you're engaged and I'm just a… A fling? I can't believe this is-"

Frank took Kendra's hand and held it firmly between his, "I'm not engaged either. I'm as single as you are."

"Oh." Kendra closed her eyes once again to get her composure. She was relieved that she wasn't caught in some kind of sordid affair. She knew that she was falling for Frank but wasn't ready to let him know it. She saw him as the one man she could really find happiness with, even with as little as she felt she knew about him. It was electric when they were together. When they spoke, Kendra felt deeply connected to Frank, as though they had known each other their entire lives. He made her feel secure and content and he somehow made her feel complete in a way she had never known. "I was afraid that this was going someplace I didn't want to be."

When Kendra opened her eyes, she saw April returning with their drinks, "Here you go, is there anything else I can get you?" April asked.

Frank gave April his credit card, "Please open a tab for us."

"Very well, Sir." April took his card and headed off toward the bar.

Kendra studied Frank as he looked into his drink. He was in a distant place; just staring into his glass as he gently swirled it around.  Kendra's look softened, "Frank, honey, are you all right?"

"What?  Oh yes, I'm sorry. I was just..." Frank trailed off as he drifted back into thought.

Kendra sat back in her seat with a look of worry on her face. Frank was the most focused person she knew, and he always said exactly what he was thinking. "Baby, didn't you want to say something? Kendra asked in a comforting tone.

Frank continued to stare into his glass, "Do you remember the first time you fell in love?"

Kendra was a little surprised by the question, "Yes. Yes, I do. I was sixteen. Why do you ask?"

"Tell me about it." Frank replied.

"Why do you want to know that? Its ancient water under-"

Frank interrupted her, "Please, Kendra, tell me about your first love." His voice was soft with a hint of urgency.

Kendra began.  "I was a junior in high school. His name was Kevin and he was on the diving team. I was on the swim team then, and I'd see him practicing. When I wasn't doing laps or running practice heats, I was watching him. He was lean and tall and his smile would light up a room and give me butterflies." Kendra chuckled a little as she remembered.

Frank watched Kendra as she spoke. Her eyes looked up as she remembered, and a soft playful innocence appeared on her face. He found himself gasping at the beauty she held at that moment. Kendra continued. "Finally, we started talking one day after practice." Kendra smiled. "He would make me laugh and I was so happy when I was with him. I loved him. I really loved him. We dated for the remainder of the year." Kendra's face became serious. "Kevin was a senior and… At the end of the school year, he broke up with me and went away to college. It was the last time I saw him. He broke my heart."

Kendra looked down at her drink and took a sip, not wanting to make eye contact at that moment. "I'm not sure I ever really got over him."

Frank slid closer to Kendra and took her hand in one of his, and with the other, caressed her cheek and lifted her chin so she was looking him in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Honey, I didn't mean to lead you to that place in time."

Kendra sighed. "It's not that..."  Kendra looked down again.  "It's just that I have the same kinds of feelings when I'm with you, and I don't know what we are doing."  Kendra's eyes became glassy and her voice began to quiver.  "What are we doing, Frank?"

"I’ll gladly answer that question. But, first I need you to promise me something. I need you to swear that anything I tell you stays just between us. Can you do that, Kendra?" Frank asked with a firmness and urgency that alarmed Kendra.

"What is it?"

"You have to promise, Kendra. I need you to promise."

"Frank, you are beginning to scare me."

"Promise me, Kendra, please. Just promise me."

"Okay, I promise that it will stay between us; completely between us."

"Kendra, I've seen things… And I've done things. I've been places I want to forget. I feel like you need to know because I owe you that much. I owe you an explanation."

"You have me frightened. Please just tell me…"

"Where to begin, where to begin…" Frank mumbled. He was clearly agitated as he began to wring his hands, as if trying to wash the stains of his past off of him. He began to look pale as he remembered things; his breath beginning to quicken. "I was a sophomore in college…" Frank began.

To be continued... someday...

© m.henry, 2009