Chapter 1

Wednesday July 17,

I'm going away. The memories are still too fresh, too loud, and too painful.

After my best friend, Shelly, and my boyfriend, Paul, were killed in a car crash, I couldn't stay at school. My grades dropped like a rock, I couldn't sleep, couldn't think. All I could do was cry. It would have been bad enough losing one of them, but I lost both.

I'd known Shelly almost since I was born. You wouldn't think that two opposites could get along so well, but we did. I was the shy quiet one and she the outgoing adventurous one. You'd have thought we would fight like cats and dogs, but we got along well together and were really close. We were practically sisters. We were almost always together. My dad called us the terrible twosome. I don't know where he got 'terrible' from, but I know he liked her. My mom would say we complimented each other, and she treated her like a second daughter.

Paul was my boyfriend and it was love at first sight, even though I didn't know it. It took him some time to convince me that it was really me he wanted and not Shelly. Shelly's the looker. I'm kind of plain. I can pull off attractive when I really put my mind to it, and have some help, usually, though, guys don't see me. Shelly, however, was a guy magnet. It wasn't just her breasts either. She had that kind of quality that drew people to her. So, it came as kind of a shock that he wanted me for me. Most guys to see me wanted to use me to get to her. Neither one of us fell for it though.

He also accepted that Shelly was part of my life and that wasn't going to change. A few guys I've had the unfortunate experience to have dated tried to separate us, and I knew where that would go. Me being a battered girlfriend, while he goes out drinking and sleeping around. Needless to say, they didn't stay around after they started that. Paul, though, accepted her right away. It took him a while, but once we started dating it was like I'd found a piece of me I hadn't known was missing. Now they're both gone.

I was getting all dolled up, as he was coming to take me out to a fancy restaurant, when it happened. I was surprised Shelly wasn't there to help me, but she said she had studying to do. And her grades did need the extra work.

You can imagine my shock when, all dressed up and ready for my date, I open the door to find two police officers, who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else than there, instead of my boyfriend. Even without them saying anything, I knew it was bad news. It was worse that I'd even imagined. What made losing them even worse was that they'd been killed in a car crash after picking out and buying an engagement ring for me. He'd planned to ask me to marry him that night, and he wanted Shelly's opinion on a ring. What should have been one of the happiest nights of my life turned into one of the worst.

It was with a sick, numb, feeling that I went with the officers to identify them. After that, I don't think I stopped crying. When I wasn't crying, I was having nightmares. Our friends tried to help, but they didn't know what to say, so they mostly stayed away. The parents, Shelly's and Paul's, were very kind and understanding, they let me have things that they knew they'd have wanted me to have, or had special meaning for me. Everything but the two things I wanted most, that is; I wanted Shelly and Paul.

After Shelly's parents cleaned out her side of the dorm room, I couldn't stay there. While her things were still there, I could cling to the hope I was having a terrible nightmare. Once they were gone, though, there was just this big void, and the silence was deafening. It got to be so bad that I stopped sleeping there. In fact, I only used it to change clothes in.

Finally, our dorm-mother and the guidance counselor sat me down and recommended that I take a leave of absence from school. They said it wasn't doing me any good being in school in the state I was in. They said I should take some time to get my feet back under me before continuing on. They arranged for me to have a year off, and for my bad grades not to be counted. I could start over in a year with a clean slate (Yeah, right). When I called home, my parents drove through the night to pick me up.

It seemed like a good idea. The only problem was that there were more memories at home. Even now, I can see a six year old Shelly laying on her belly on the floor, coloring, her feet kicking slowly in the air. An eleven-year-old Shelly flaked out on the bed wearing earphones and listening to music. Shelly, sixteen, using my closet mirror to check out how she looked in her new bra. Paul, at the front door, as I nervously introduced him to my parents. Paul, in pj's, standing by the guest bedroom as I kissed him goodnight, and then both of us blushing as my dad cleared his throat and mom giggled. The house is full of memories like that. There are also memories of Mom.

That's right, she's gone too. Two months after I came home, she died. Now memories of her are haunting me too. I can't go into the kitchen without seeing her pulling out cookies from the oven, go into the study without seeing her putting together a puzzle, or the living room without seeing her crocheting a blanket or a pair of slippers.

They should be happy memories, and maybe one day they will be, but right now they only remind me of what I've lost.

Yesterday I borrowed Charlene's car, and drove. I didn't have any destination in mind, I just drove. I finally ended up at the beach. I've always loved the beach. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore is soothing to me, somehow. It was almost dark when I got there. People were leaving. By the time it was night, I was all alone.

I don't know how long I sat, not thinking about anything, with my back against the cliff, when my dad put a blanket over me and sat down next to me. He put his arm around me and pulled me close, but didn't say anything. We just sat there watching the moon set. When it was gone, I broke down and started crying. Dad pulled me to him and held me while I sobbed.

When I was all cried out, he said, "I love you, sweetheart."

It made me cry again, but they were happier tears than before.

I said I loved him too, and then apologized for making him worry about me.

He told me that it was ok and that he understood. He said that he missed them too.

That made me feel guilty for not thinking about him. I'd been so wrapped up in my own pain I hadn't seen his. I tried to apologize, but he just kissed my forehead and said he understood, saying, "Oh, honey, it's alright. You've been hit with a triple whammy. As much as your mother's loss hurts me, you've been hit with more. You've had to deal with her loss, plus Shelly and Paul's. I'm not sure I could handle that if I were in your shoes."

I told him his feet were too big to get into my shoes

He hugged me to him as he laughed. Then he kissed the top of my head. "That's my girl."

I hugged him back.

We sat quietly after that, but it was a more comfortable silence, as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. After a while, when it started to get light, I said, "Dad I want to get away, to go somewhere and clear my head."

I guess he saw that coming, as I felt him nod. "Do you know where you'll go, or where you'll stay?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't really thought about it, I just know I need to go away for a while."

He kissed the top of my head and said, "Alright, we'll think of something."

We sat for a while more, and then he said, "Are you ready to head back? Charlene's pretty worried."

My heart sank. Charlene is my mom's best friend. Like Shelly and I, Mom and Charlene grew up as friends and stayed that way. I've known Charlene all my life. She's practically like an aunt to me. She and Dad have gotten really close since Mom passed. From things they've told me, Mom started pushing them together when she first got sick.

Part of me wants to be angry with them, but I can't be. I love them both, and looking back, I can see where Mom even hinted to me that she wanted them to be together. They do get along well; they always did, and I think it's somehow fitting -- the three of us staying together and continuing to be a family. I know it's what Mom wanted.

So, when Dad mentioned her name, I felt all guilty again. Charlene's normally upbeat and outgoing, but around me she's been really nervous, as if she's walking on eggs. It's my fault. She's been trying so hard to fill Mom's shoes, without taking her place. I know she's doing it for me. She's wanted to be there for me, but she's also been afraid I'd push her away.

I decided right then that I was going to apologize to her and let her know that I was ok with her and Dad.

I pushed myself up, saying, "Ok."

He stood up with me and, after bushing the sand off and folding the blanket, we made our way back to the parking lot.

When we got to the top of the stairs leading to the parking lot, I saw Charlene get out of Dad's car and nervously look at me. I ran over to her, crying, and hugged her. She was crying too, and hugged me back just as hard.

When we stopped crying, I said, "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, gave me a small smile, and hugged me again. Then Dad asked if we could get in out of the cold. I hadn't even realized how cold I was. I know I pulled Dad's blanket tighter around me when he gave it to me, and snuggled closer to him when he sat down, but I hadn't really realized it. My hands were numb and I was shivering badly.

Charlene realized it too. She grabbed my hands and said, "Oh, Sam, your hands are like ice! Let's get you warmed up in the car. I brought some hot chocolate, I hope that's ok?" The last was nervously asked, looking at me.

I nodded, pulled her close, and said, "Thank you."

We piled into the car, Charlene and I in the back, Dad in front. He started the car and turned the heater on full blast. Charlene wrapped the blanket around me, and then dug out a thermos. She poured us all some chocolate and we sipped it while warming up.

When we'd finished the chocolate, Dad asked if we were ready to go. We were. Charlene got out to drive her car home, and I leaned forward between the seats. "Dad, is it ok if I ride back with Charlene?"

He looked at me, gave me a smile and a nod, and kissed my cheek. I kissed him in return, saying, "Thanks, Daddy." That made his smile bigger.

I got out of his car and ran to Charlene's. She was surprised, but happy, when I opened her passenger door and got in with her.

On the way home, I told her my plans, what little I had. "Charlene, I'm going to be going away."

Charlene let out a long sad sigh. "I know sweetie, I'd hoped..." She stopped and shook her head.

I reached over and grasped Charlene's hand. "I love you."

She gave me a surprised look, before turning her attention back to the road. "I love you too, Sam. I love you very much, and I'm sorry I can't take your mother's place."

I gently cut her off before she could continue. "You don't need to."

She looked at me fearfully, and a bit hurt. It pained me to see that.

"You're my Charlene and I love you. I know you've been trying hard to be Mom, but I need you to be you."

She squeezed my hand, and we drove in silence for a while.

"What about your father?"

"Do you love him?"

She looked at me fearfully again. "Yes, very much."

"Good."

She twitched in surprise, and looked at me as if she wasn't sure I'd said that. I gave her a smile and told her to make him happy. She had tears in her eyes when she said, "I'll try."

I told her what she always told me when I said, I'll try, 'You'd better, or I'll spank your butt.'

She looked at me, and then started laughing. "You've got yourself a deal."

We shared a smile, and then I leaned over sideways and put my head on her shoulder. After a while, I asked, "How did you two find me."

"Whenever you're upset about something you always head for water. When you were little you'd ride your bike to the creek, and when you got your license you'd drive to the beach. We just drove until we saw the car."

"Oh."

"Sam?"

"Hmm?"

"I do love you. You know that, right?"

I nodded and said, "I know, I love you too." Then I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

When we got home, Charlene woke me, and we all went inside. I went to my room to undress and get my nightclothes. When I came out in my robe, Charlene had the water already going for me. She and Dad both gave me a kiss and told me to sleep well, but to wake them if I needed anything. I said I would, and thanked them. They gave me a smile and a nod, and went to their room.

After a nice, long, hot shower, I put a long nightshirt and panties on, and went to bed. When I woke up, it was nearing dinnertime. I dressed in a pair of jeans and a pull-over top, and went downstairs.

During dinner, Charlene brought up my trip, asking where I was going. I told her I didn't know, and she suggested taking a drive up the coast. "You love being around water and the beach. Why not drive up the coast?"

I thought that was a good idea and said so. Then I asked about where I'd stay.

"There're lots of bed and breakfasts and small inns. You shouldn't have trouble finding one."

"Why don't you take the fifth wheel?" Dad suggested. The fifth wheel is an old RV trailer that had belonged to my grandparents. We used to use it a lot when I was younger, but it'd been years since we'd used it. We just didn't seem to have the time. The last time we used it was just after high school, to go visit my grandma.

"That's a great idea!" Charlene said. "You can stop where ever you want, and stay as long as you wish."

Dad nodded.

"How will I tow it though?" I asked.

"You can use Henry." Dad replied.

Henry is what my grandparents named their big old 1970's Dodge pickup truck, which they used to pull their trailer. Dad says Henry's one of a kind. I certainly haven't seen one like him. I've seen a couple other 70's era Dodges, and I've seen newer, bigger, 4 door Dodges, but I've never seen one exactly like him.

We don't use Henry much unless we need to carry a lot of things. Despite the better fuel and carburetor, he's still expensive to drive, not to mention hard to park. He takes up two parking spaces where ever we go and he doesn't exactly turn on a dime.he doesn't even turn on a fifty cent piece.

We mostly use him to haul things home, like fire wood, or to take recyclables to the recyclers. Consequently, he doesn't get driven much unless one of the other vehicles is in the shop. The last time I rode in him was when we left for college. He was the only vehicle either of our families had capable of carrying us and our luggage.

Charlene did have a good idea about using the trailer, and dad was nice enough to let me use it and Henry. I was having mixed feeling about it, however. I was trying to get away from my memories for a while and it looked like I would be bringing them with me. Then again, Henry's always been like a big friend to me, and every time I heard him running it made me remember being picked up from school, or wherever. Unless there was something to distinguish the cars apart, we'd all have to wait to see who got out of the newer cars. With Henry, though, we could hear him coming, and we knew my family were there for us. Finally, I decided that it would be ok, except for one thing; I've never driven Henry with the trailer.

Dad said, "That's ok, we can practice some before you go."

Then Charlene said, "Wait, do you think Henry and the trailer are up for it? It has been a long time since they've been used like that."

"I'm sure they'll be ok," Dad said."However, to be safe, we'll have them checked over before you go. You don't have to leave right away, do you?"

I shook my head. Now that I had some kind of plan I could wait a little while. It'd give me more time to get ready.

"Then how about this weekend we head down and pick up the trailer, so you can practice driving around with it, and take it in to the yard to be checked out. Then, Monday I'll drop Henry off at the shop so he can get a tune-up and an oil change. Does that sound like a plan?"

Charlene and I both nodded.

After dinner Dad dug out some old maps, while Charlene printed them out. We went over them, trying to plan a route along the coast, and any other places I might want to visit. While we were looking at the map, Charlene said, "Oh, Sam, do you remember that one RV Camp that was right on the coast? It was just across the highway from the beach; the one where Shelly got knocked off her feet and got a mouth full of water." She looked at Dad, saying, "Honey, when was that, fifteen years ago?"

I vaguely remembered it; I remembered a camp filled with fog, nestled in the mountains near a beach. I also remembered the way Shelly scrunched her face up in disgust at her taste of salt water. I had the giggles every time I looked at her for the rest of the day. And we never went to the beach without making a joke about it. I don't remember much about the rest of that vacation but I do remember that.