A Moment in Time
A Moment in time
A Collection of Short Stories
Susan Stoker
Contents
Blurb
The Boardwalk
Author Note
1. The Boardwalk
The Other Side of the Story
Author Note
2. The Other Side of the Story
The Gift
Author Note
3. The Gift
Also by Susan Stoker
About the Author
Three short stories by Susan Stoker, including The Boardwalk, The Other Side of the Story, and The Gift.
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The Boardwalk- Walking along the beach one day a man meets a woman sitting on a bench. They talk and he takes her to lunch. But as most things in life, there's always more to the story than what meets the eye. The ultimate love story.
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The Other Side of the Story- Kassie begins messaging Hollywood through a dating site. However, she's hiding way more than Hollywood thinks. Find out the "other side of the story" and why she signed up for an online dating site in the first place.
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The Gift- Annie meets a new friend in Frankie and wants to give him a present...but she's only seven, and doesn't have any money. She has to wrack her brain to come up with an appropriate present. What she doesn't realize is Frankie is doing the same thing.
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The Boardwalk
by Susan Stoker
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2016 by Susan Stoker
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No part of this work may be used, stored, reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher except for brief quotations for review purposes as permitted by law.
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This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please purchase your own copy.
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Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
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Manufactured in the United States
Author Note
When I wrote this story, I was thinking it was the ultimate love story. If this were me, I’d take such comfort in knowing I was being protected and looked after when I wasn’t able to do so on my own anymore.
With that said, this is a sad story…especially if you’ve read my SEAL of Protection series. I had people tell me they hated this story, and that they regretted reading it. That upset me, but I stand by my view that this is still a love story.
I wish we could all stay young forever, but we can’t.
If I have to get old, I want someone just like the Hero in this story by my side every step of the way.
Now, get out the tissues and read…if you dare!
~Susan
The Boardwalk
The man looked down at the fancy watch on his wrist. There were a lot of features on it that he’d never used, but it didn’t matter, because the one and only reason he’d bought the extravagant electronic had more than once justified the cost he’d had to pay for it.
The cool breeze blowing in from the ocean ruffled his short gray hair as he walked with purpose along the boardwalk. His eyes swept back and forth from the watch on his wrist, to the ocean waves lazily crashing along the beach, to the many people out and about enjoying their day.
The afternoon was perfect. Blue skies, the sun was out, but wasn’t too hot, and everywhere he looked were people out and about enjoying the weather. It was a special day for him and he was pleased the weather was cooperating.
There were strategically placed benches along the boardwalk, most of which were filled with young mothers and children taking a break, or older men and women soaking in the sun.
Getting tired himself, the man was happy to see one such bench coming up along his route. There was an older woman sitting on one end of it, her face tipped up to the sun, a small smile on her face.
“Is this seat taken? May I sit?” the man asked, smiling down at the woman. Her hair was as gray as his and pulled back into a bun at the base of her neck. Wisps of hair had escaped the confines of her hairdo and were blowing against her cheek and face, but she didn’t even seem to notice.
Her hands were wrinkled with age, and rested serenely in her lap. She wore a pair of gray slacks and a yellow blouse. Both were simple garments, meant more for comfort than fashion.
She looked up at him and smiled hugely. “Of course.”
The man sat down and put one arm along the back of the bench. They sat quietly for a long moment before he said politely, “Beautiful day today.”
“It is,” the woman agreed. “It reminds me of one of the best days of my life.”
“Oh?”
She nodded and kept her gaze on the beach in front of her as she spoke. “My wedding day. Well…not my original wedding day, that was the best day of my life, but this one was a close second.”
The man waited for her to continue, but when it looked like she’d forgotten he was even there, he cleared his throat and prompted, “Was it a vow renewal ceremony?”
She started then giggled and turned her head to him. “Yes. It was our twenty-fifth anniversary and my husband had it all planned out. He didn’t tell me about it, and miraculously managed to keep it secret.” A loving smile crept across her face at the obviously good memory.
“All our friends were there, just as they’d been at our original wedding. Not only that, but many of their children and grandchildren were also there. My husband tricked me asked me to go for a walk on the beach with him. I had no idea all our friends were there. They were all waiting for us when we got to the beach. Shocked the hell out of me, I’ll tell ya.”
The man laughed at the use of the expletive. “I bet that was a surprise. I can picture the scene, you thought you were taking a romantic evening walk, and then all of a sudden you were getting re-married.”
“Exactly!” she told him, looking back out to the beach, lost in thought. “But it was lovely. And for a man, my husband did a wonderful job with the little details. Everyone had coordinated and were wearing white, he’d bought me a new dress the day before, pink. The hotel nearby had set up tables so after we said our vows everyone got to sit down to eat.” She sighed. “The picture of me and my husband standing by the ocean with the sun setting behind us is one of my most treasured possessions.”
“I bet you were beautiful.”
The woman turned and glared at the stranger next to her. “Are you flirting with me?”
He held up both hands in capitulation. “No! I recognize a taken woman when I see one!”
She fingered the necklace around her neck. “I might not be wearing rings anymore, darn things kept falling off and I kept losing them, so my husband got me this necklace instead.”
“May I?” the man asked, reaching out a hand and gesturing to the large pendant.
She nodded and held it out.
The man scooted closer to her on the bench and closed his fingers around the unusual stone around her neck. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful.”
“I told my husband it was too much. Especially to wear day in and day out, but he said that only the most unique and beautiful pendant could do my beaut
y justice.”
“What is this stone?” the man asked.
“Ammolite,” the woman told him immediately. “It’s made of aragonite, a mineral that’s naturally forming in stalactites like in Carlsbad Caverns.”
She sounded like she was reciting by rote, but the man didn’t interrupt her.
“It’s made of fossilized shells. My husband said it’s one of the few biogenic substances in the world…made by life processes…or something. Anyway, he said it was perfect for me because it came from the ocean…and since he loved the ocean, it would be like I was always wearing a part of him around my neck.”
“He sounds like quite the man.”
“Oh he was…is.” She frowned then, as if thinking about her husband made her sad.
Not wanting her to dwell on painful thoughts, the man dropped the pink stone back into her hand and changed the subject. “I can understand why you like to sit here then, especially since it brings back such great memories for you. I’ve always loved the ocean. It’s powerful and deadly, yet soothing at the same time.”
“Yes. I’ve never been a good swimmer, but I too have always liked being by the water. My husband was a fish. He could swim better than just about anyone I’ve ever met. He and his friends would spend hours in the water, horsing around and joking with each other.”
The man smiled at the affection in the woman’s voice. He leaned back against the wooden slats of the bench and grimaced. His arthritis was acting up today and his bones hurt. The warmth of the sun felt good against his aching joints and he wasn’t ready to go inside yet. He was eighty-six years old and no longer a spring chicken, but he’d be damned if he spent the end of his life lying around in a bed waiting to die. Besides, he had an important job to fulfill and didn’t have time to be infirm.
He was still lean and ate as well as he could, not wanting to fill his body with unneeded chemicals and additives. He’d worked out every day of his life until about ten years ago when he’d had his knee replaced. The recovery had been long and he’d thought for a while he’d never walk again, but as he did with all the other injuries he’d had throughout his lifetime, he’d fought through the pain and overcome his temporary disability.
His face was wrinkled, as was the rest of his body. No longer the svelte and muscular man he used to be, but most days he was too busy to notice or care. Married himself, he took care of his eighty-two year old wife from the time she woke up until the time she went to bed at night. He made sure she ate healthy meals. Made sure she wasn’t harassed or treated unfairly during the day, it was amazing how horrible folks could be to “old people”, and he kept her company as she watched television or played cards.
He’d taken vows to be by her side through sickness and health, thick and thin, no matter what. Their lives were slowly coming to an end, but he couldn’t think of anything better than spending every last second of it with his beautiful wife.
The woman he married was his life and he completely understood this woman’s devotion to her own husband. To further the conversation, the man said, “I used to be able to swim pretty good once upon a time.”
Her eyes came to him and he held back the grin as she eyed him from his feet up to his head.
“You don’t look much like a swimmer,” was her somewhat snarky response.
The man burst out laughing. When he finally got himself under control he said, “Maybe not now, but in my day, I was a force to be reckoned with.”
“Not me,” the woman said, smiling to herself and looking back the beach. There were several families with children playing on the beach and in the surf. She kept her eyes on the children as she said, “I spent most of my life in the shadows.”
“Did you like that?”
She shook her head, then shrugged. “Not really, but I was used to it.”
“I can’t imagine that.”
“Well, once I met my husband he wouldn’t let anyone overlook me.”
“As well he shouldn’t” the man said. “A good husband does what he can to make his wife happy. And you look like the kind of woman who wouldn’t be happy in the background.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” she said easily.
“You have children?” the man asked, noting the contentment on her face as she watched the kids playing on the beach.”
She shook her head. “Nope. Never wanted them. But that doesn’t mean that there weren’t children in our lives.”
“I’m confused,” the man told her shifting against the bench, his back continuing to ache.
“My husband and I might never have had kids, but most of our friends did. Almost every weekend was spent with kids sleeping over so their parents could have a break. I remember one weekend we actually had thirteen children in the house.”
“Thirteen?” the man mock shivered. “All belonging to one couple?”
She chuckled. “No. Four.”
“I think I want to hear this story,” the man said, leaning forward to stretch out the kinks in his back, his elbows resting on his knees, his head turned to keep the woman’s face in view.
“Me and my girlfriends were sitting around complaining about this and that and how we never got to see our husbands as much as we wanted. It had been a tough couple months at work and they were gone more than usual. I got to thinking about how much I loved my time alone with my husband when he got home from his long absences, and felt guilty that my friends had to share that time with their kids. So I offered to babysit all of their kids one weekend after our husbands had been gone for a long time.”
“That was a generous thing to do,” the man told her.
“It was,” she said with no artifice. “But I conned my other childless friend and her husband into helping me. So there we were. Four adults, eight little girls ranging from age thirteen to two and five boys, from fifteen to four. It was insane, but fun.”
“What’d you do? How’d you keep them all entertained?”
“Water.”
“Water?”
“Yes, water. Squirt guns, a portable pool, water balloons. It was mayhem, but so fun. And bonus, we didn’t have to give them baths.”
“I can imagine,” the man told her, picturing shrieking children running around a back yard with the adults laughing and joining in the fun.
“So me and my husband might not have had kids, but every one of my friends’ children are special to me and we love every single one.”
The man shifted uncomfortably on the bench once more. He had to move. When his bones hurt like they were right now, it meant if he didn’t get up and walk, he’d be hurting more later. And if the pain got too bad, he wouldn’t be able to take care of his wife. “Want to take a walk?” he asked the woman.
When she looked uneasy, he quickly said, “Not far. And we won’t go fast. But my arthritis is acting up and if I don’t get up now, I’ll be flat on my back tonight. I’d love to hear more of your stories.”
At mention of her stories, she smiled and slowly pushed herself to her feet and held out her hand to him. “I’d love to walk. Thank you.”
He took hold of her hand and let her help him up. Once upright, he dropped her hand and held out his elbow. “Ma’am?”
She wrapped her hand around his arm and let him take some of her weight as they began to shuffle down the boardwalk.
All around them men, women, and children walked, ran, and rode their fancy scooters past them. The man kept them to the right, out of the way of the fast-moving traffic. The last thing he wanted was to have the woman hurt because of his need to walk.
“Any other kid stories?” he asked as they continued.
“Of course. Those kids are a handful, but hilarious,” the woman told him, smiling broadly. “There was the time when Taylor got her toes stuck in the bathtub faucet. Her dad freaked out. He wanted to call nine-one-one but luckily his wife called me instead. I raced over to their house and managed to slick her up with enough Vaseline that her toes popped right out.”
“Surely h
e was used to his daughter doing weird stuff like that. I mean, kids get into trouble all the time…”
“She was his only child, and he was very protective. He was such a manly man, but anytime his wife or daughter got hurt, he turned into a helpless mess.”
“What else?” the man asked, enjoying the happy tone of the woman’s voice when she talked about her friends.
“Me and another friend offered to babysit for another friend who had six kids. They were out of control that night, I’m not sure why. But by the time we got everyone in bed and they actually stayed there, my friends came home. I went home and told my husband how glad I was that we never had children, and we had the most amazing sex.”
The woman had a comforting cadence to her voice. It soothed the man’s soul. He was a happily married man, but he could listen to this woman talk all day.
“What about you?” she asked suddenly. “Do you have any kids?”
At her question, the smile on the man’s face disappeared. He looked defeated and sad all of a sudden, but he quickly recovered, turning to the woman next to him. He patted her hand which was lying on her arm as they walked, and told her, “No. No children. Like you, I never really wanted any and lived vicariously through my friends’ kids. And now their grandchildren,” he said almost as an after thought.
“Grandkids,” the woman said, tilting her head and looking off into the distance as they continued onward.