Recalling Reality

Chapter 27

The sun is beginning to hide behind the line of trees on the south side of the highway. I am still sitting inside the truck looking at the house. Maybe this was just a bad dream and I would be waking up any second now. The display on the screen tells me that it is almost six, the time Taylor and his wife are usually getting home. When they do, I am sure they will fill me in on what is going on.

Minutes tick by. Nothing is happening at Taylor's, and Shane still has not returned to this house. If he was selling it, then I can understand why he wasn't pulling into the driveway.

Finally, half an hour later, lights are swinging into the driveway next door, illuminating the garage door of Taylor's home. I climb out of the brand new truck and rush the line of bush and lawn to get to the young blond haired kid. His features reminded me of my sister-in-law Joan, but Gabe was only ten. No way could he ever pass for driving a car.

"Auntie, is something wrong?" His thick brow cocked up high on his forehead and the questions were rolling through his mind.

"Um..." Who in the hell was this kid? This was not my buddy, Gabe. And I certainly didn't have any other nephews I didn't know about, that would be old enough to drive. "I was looking for Shane."

"Shane?" He shakes his head and opens the back door to the red older style car. "That house has been vacant for five years."

Five years?

Vacant?

I turn back to the house and search for any evidence that told me there hasn't been anyone there in five years. True, the lawn was out of control and the weeds in the flower beds have taken up residency. But, I was just there a few weeks ago staying with Shane. In his house. In his bedroom. In that house.

No!

Absolutely not!

I was here!

My heart beats harder and my mind is starting to spin. A band insists on beating drums in a constant beat, one that matched the rhythm of the blood that is pumping through my veins.

"Auntie?" The deeper voice broke through my thoughts, trying to pull me back.

This kid... this older kid was not Gabe. It couldn't be. I just saw him a few days ago at the rehearsal dinner and he was my sweet little ten-year-old buddy.

I shake my head and step back when he inches his way closer to me. "No. I don't know you."

"Auntie, it's me..."

"Stop!" I hold my hands up, and he stops as the coloring in his tanned features fade away. "I have no idea who the hell you are. Just..."

Turning on the heels of my shoes, I go back to the truck, climb in, and start it. One last scan over the house and I am not seeing any life left in the place. I spent nights under that roof. I know that I did.

I walked the hall when his and her pictures were decorating it. I slept in his bed. I showered in that shower that was on the other side of the kitchen. Breakfasts were served at the island table. Breakfasts that Shane made.

Everything is wrong. I am not just dreaming any of this. I was in that house a week ago, or two at the most. Ryan was not Shane. Shane was blond. Shane had these amazing laser blue eyes that I often got lost in when I needed to pay attention to something he said about selling off my books. Shane was the man that I shared the weekend of paradise with. The one who I shared those intimate moments with. The one who proved that sex could be like those fiction novels I read and wrote about.

He was my book boyfriend, and he was able to mend the shattered pieces of my heart. He was real.

Wasn't he?