A Dark Autumn (2 page)

It was as if the entire publishing world, as well as his fellow author buddies, had forgotten he even existed. So Ricky began a workload that consisted of website interviews, magazine interviews, publishing free short stories on his/her own website, and even blog tours to keep Laura alive. It wasn’t until they self-published the eBook
Lust in Space
that Ricky felt Laura had returned. It was an instant hit on all the eReader websites.
 

The majority of the reviews were wonderful and kind, not all of them of course, because no one can escape the internet troll who enjoys posting negative comments and criticisms on message boards and Amazon even if that loser hasn’t read the material they’re reviewing. It was always easy to disconnect those guys from the legitimate reviewers. Usually you just had to check their spellings, lack of capitalization and poor texting-style grammar.
 

After the success of
Lust in Space,
Laura Kelly’s old publishing house got in touch, pretending nothing had happened, and eagerly anticipating Laura’s next manuscript. That had angered Ricky more than their ignoring him. Plenty had happened. He’d started drinking again, and much heavier than he had before quitting years back. He began seeing a therapist, and worst of it all, he could feel Laura Kelly’s disappointment. She was the one who had been the driving force all along, who picked him up and brushed off his failures, giving him a pat on the back and sending him back out there to try again. Without her, he would have perished. Ricky had become a wreck, an absolute horror to be with, and even worse to live with.
 

And Ted had become the emotional punching bag during his drunken binges. But on the day the publisher came crawling back to him, he took a gut-chance and severed all ties with the house. Then, with Laura’s support, he came out of the closet about being Laura Kelly. The buzz was huge. Suddenly, people were talking about him again. His parents couldn’t believe it. He’d even learned his own mother and most of his aunts were fans of his/hers, which he found to be odd considering the erotic fiction on those pages could fluster a gimp. He’d debated coming out of the sexual closet as well, but wasn’t brave enough yet. Other authors had admitted they were gay, and the sales of their books had plummeted afterward. Movie deals became stale. And Ricky had heard rumors it even affected those authors’ creativity and personal well-being. He was finally at a point that he felt comfortable as a writer, and his emotional state was teetering on the positive side.
 

He didn’t want to risk jeopardizing that.
 

Nor did he want to put Ted through anymore bullshit. So he’d decided to keep it hushed for now, and when the time was right, he’d announce it to the world.
 

Maybe after
Fear and Lusting in Las Vegas
, the next book in the Lust series, was released with a new publishing house, a new editor and, hopefully, many new fans. Perhaps that would be the right time to come clean about his sexual preferences. But for now, he would keep going about things as normal. It was no one’s damn business anyway.
 

He made a ham and cheese sandwich with a side order of low-fat saltine crackers. He carried the plate and sweet tea with him out on the back deck. Then he sat at the table and ate while watching the lake’s water gently ripple as it licked the shoreline.
 

A cool breeze brushed across him, stirring his hair. He could smell the forest, sweet and clean.
 

He could not wait to go walking.

Chapter Three

Michelle parked her Honda at the front of the two-story cabin in her usual spot, a rectangle-shaped blemish that had once been luscious green grass, but was now browned and frail under the old oak tree. She and her brother Glen had spent many summer days climbing that tree. It was gargantuan in size to her even now, but as a child, Michelle had thought it reached all the way to heaven. And maybe it could, she’d never been to the top of it.
 

She sat behind the wheel, staring at the cabin with her car door open and the engine off, enjoying the drifting air, and smelling the sweet scents from the woods. Pine, leaves old and new, wood and dirt. She wondered why no one had ever been able to accurately capture the scent in a candle.
 

The cabin looked as if it had been placed there amidst the trees by God’s hand. The lawn was made up of a small, clean patch of grass in the back and around both sides. The front was nothing more than a gravel driveway that blended in with the yard, and the woods enclosed the property like a wall. The lake was within walking distance on a path through the woods, and all the hiking trails that traversed through the thickest parts of the woods could be accessed right from her backyard.

And of course, there was the camping area where they’d met those campers the last time they’d been here together.
 

Michelle studied the cabin. The plants hung from under the eave, where they’d been for as long as Michelle could remember, swaying this way and that. They were still lively and green, although it must have been Fourth of July weekend since they’d last been watered. She should probably water them at some point today. But not right now. She was enjoying the calm way too much to do anything. She found herself almost regretting that she’d invited the girls out. This would be the only moment like this for the rest of the weekend. That was fine, though, because she would probably grow pretty bored in a day, but the girls being here would help her appreciate solitary moments like this.

But, like all good things, it must come to an end. They’d probably be here soon. She had to get the cabin prepared, open the windows and doors so the four month old stuffy air could be fanned out. She wondered if she should cut some wood for the fireplace, but figured there was probably plenty behind the shed already. It’d be old, but it would burn like any other tinder.
 

Michelle climbed out of the car, stretched and kicked the door shut with the heel of her shoe.
I’ll get my bags in a minute.
She wanted to get inside and get started.
 

On her way to the front door, she contemplated taking a quick walk if the others hadn’t arrived by the time she was finished inside. And, if they hadn’t, then she would do just that.

“I have to admit,” said Amanda, puffing on a cigarette, “I’m excited about this weekend.”

Lucy laughed, keeping both hands on the steering wheel as she took a sharp curve five miles lower than the recommended limit. “Sounds like your life’s been as exciting as mine lately.”
 

“Hardly,” she said, and flicked her cigarette out the window. It disappeared somewhere over the mountain’s edge.

“That’s a good way to start a forest fire,” said Helen from the backseat. She lay stretched out, her feet bare even on such a cool day. Her bronzed, sporty legs had a glossy sheen to them from frequent trips to a tanning bed. “Don’t you remember what Smokey told you?”
 

“Who?”
 

Lucy shot a surprised glance Amanda’s way. “Smokey the Bear. Remember when we were kids, someone dressed up as him would come to the school?”
 

“Oh, that guy.”

“That
bear
,” corrected Helen.

“Whatever. Yeah, I remember him. He passed out all those pamphlets.” Sitting up straight, Amanda placed a hand over her heart as if about to say a pledge. In her best Smokey voice, she said, “Only
I
can prevent forest fires.”
 

“You just probably
started
one by flicking your cigarette out the window like that. Real good, you know. Hot ashes and dry leaves equal a combustible combination.”
 

Amanda rolled her eyes. “Sorry,
Mama.
” She shook her head. “I haven’t seen you in
how
long and you’re already giving me shit?”
 

“Wouldn’t be Helen if she wasn’t,” said Lucy.

Helen tilted back her head and released a single laugh. “The girl knows me too well.”
 

Amanda leaned closer to Lucy. “You’re on my side, right?”
 

“I know better than to side with
either
of you.” Though she was joking, it was really a lighthearted admittance of the truth. Helen and Amanda could be trouble separately, but getting them together was borderline catastrophic. She had been excited about this trip, but couldn’t stop the nervous tingles in her stomach about where it might lead. “How long has it been since we’ve been to the cabin?” Lucy said, trying to divert the conversation.
 

“God,” said Helen. Pursing her lips together, she made a hissing noise as she exhaled. “We’d just graduated high school…”

“Thirteen years?” asked Amanda.

“Yeah,” said Helen. “I’m thirty now, was almost eighteen the last time. Now I’m depressed. Point me to the nearest gallon of ice cream. I want to get fat, again.”
 

“Oh please,” said Lucy. “You couldn’t if you tried.”
 

I’m the fat one
, she thought. Hardly large enough to be considered obese, she was much heavier and shorter than her two passengers, who made the excess weight seem like it was that much more. Their taut shapes were augmented with curves where she had gullies in her doughy skin. Their breasts were round and compact, and hers were loose, hefty and oval. Their skin was golden in tint, and hers was white, as if bleached. She had much to be envious of. They’d always tried convincing her otherwise, even back in school, but she’d never believed them.
 

“The hell I couldn’t,” said Helen. “I gained forty pounds when I was pregnant.”
 

“Which time?” asked Amanda.

“Both. But I didn’t give myself time to lose the weight from the previous pregnancy. I just packed it on top of the rest.”

“Bullshit,” said Lucy. “I call total bullshit.”
 

“Ah,” she said, sitting up. “I thought that someone might. So, I brought a picture. I knew if I told this story, no one would believe me. So, I brought proof.” Leaning up, she dug her pocket book out from under the seat of Lucy’s car. She sifted through it, pulled out a photo and passed it to Amanda. “There I am, in all of my overweight glory.”
 

Amanda squealed, “Oh my god!! That can’t be real.” She glanced back at her, then back to the picture, comparing and contrasting. “It’s unbelievable.”
 

“Believe it, sister.”
 

“Oh my God, no way…”
 

Lucy tried getting a glimpse the picture from where she sat, but couldn’t take her eyes off the winding road long enough. She was afraid if she did she’d steer them to their deaths. “Let me see.”
 

“You might want to pull over for this one,” Amanda declared.
 

“Just hold it up.”
 

Helen leaned forward, resting her head on Lucy’s seat next to her ear. “You at least will want to slow down.”
 

“If you say so.” She eased her foot off the gas, slowing the speed down to twenty. “Slow enough for you?”
 

Helen groaned. “Just show her the damn picture.”
 

“Fine.” She leaned over and held the photo above the steering wheel.

Lucy gasped. Caught on film was someone that resembled Helen, but not the girl in the backseat, nor the one she’d grown up knowing. The features were similar, the same boyish dark brown hair, the same wide curving mouth, the big eyes, the large breasts, the mole above the top lip, but expanded versions of them. The hips were wider, the stomach pudgier. Lucy recognized the gloss on her skin as sweat. Instead of laughing, she felt sad. She hoped to God she would never look like that, and prayed she wasn’t already there. “I saw it…”

Amanda sat back.
 

“No cheap shots?” said Helen, disappointed.

“Like I have room to take cheap shots.”
 

Amanda stirred uncomfortably in her seat. “Do you remember how to get there, Lucy?”
 

“Yeah, we’re close now. Probably another half hour.”

“Really?” She sounded over-enthused.
 

Lucy knew she was pretending in hopes of changing the subject.

“Should we stop and eat first,” asked Lucy.
 

“I don’t know, it’s up to you, I guess.” Helen said, leaning back in the seat.
 

“Don’t leave it to the heavy girl to make decisions on when we eat.”
 

Sighing, Amanda passed the picture back to Helen. “Shouldn’t have shown you the damn picture anyway. Now you think
you’re
fat.”
 

“I don’t think.”
 

“You could lose weight if you feel so self-conscious about it.”
 

“Oh, sure.”
 

Helen chimed in, “I did. You saw how heavy I was. I lost the weight. And, you’re nothing at all like I was.”
 

“What am I?”

“Do you really want to do this?” she asked.

Lucy shrugged. She saw Amanda twisting even more in her seat. If she kept it up, she might roll right through the opened window.