romance

It’s that time again. Time for another First Friday Fiction Feature (#FFFF). Other free feature stories can be found on my Pinterest page (a shared short story board) and on the Freebies page of my site.

Today’s offering is the continuation of last month’s story. If you haven’t yet, you should read the first installment before continuing. To read Part 1, click here.

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A Lamentation of Swans, Part 2

She hadn’t taken a single step since her fall.

When the hospital released her, she was to go to physical therapy. But she made Jeremiah take her home. He carried her into the house, and she spent her days transferring herself from wheelchair to furniture and back.

She lost track of time.

One day, while reclining on her chaise, listening again to the soundtrack of her former glory, Jeremiah came in and opened the drapes.

“Jeremiah. What are you doing? Close those at once.”

“I’m sorry, madame, but I will not. You can’t stay closed up in here. It’s time you begin your recovery.”

“Recovery? There’s no coming back from this. Close the drapes and leave me be.”

“Many pardons, madame, but I can’t do that.”

Anita brought in a tray loaded with a giant vase of fresh cut flowers, three bottles of mineral water, crusty bread, cut fruit, and assorted cheeses.

“Anita.” Juliette’s tone hid none of her annoyance. “Take this away and bring me my juice.”

“Juicing isn’t eating, ma’am.” She took the vase and put it on the end table where Juliette could easily see it. “There’s precious little nutrition in it.”

“Especially with vodka in it,” Jeremiah said.

“Jerem—” Juliette started.

Anita interrupted her. “You need good, hearty meals. It’s time.”

“Time? Time for what?”

“Ramon thought you’d like to see the fruits of his labors. He brought these cut flowers in for you. I told him that’s the last vase he’ll need to fill. You’ll be going out to walk the gardens from now on.”

Juliette fought back the tears. She’d love to walk the gardens. She’d give anything to walk anywhere at all.

Damn her staff. Damn them all. They didn’t understand. How dare they do this to her?

“Come on, ma’am. Sit up and eat. We have a lot to do after lunch.”

“And what would that be, Anita? Are we running a marathon? Hiking the Appalachian Trail?”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t do those things, after training for them.”

“Get out,” Juliette whispered.

Jeremiah approached the chaise and stooped down beside her. “Do you have any idea how long you’ve been hiding in here?”

Juliette turned and looked outside through a curtain of tears. She had no idea how long it had been since the accident. It had been even longer since she saw her beloved swans. She watched through the glass as they bent graceful necks to the water, then stretched them up to the sky. She couldn’t hear their trumpets, but she knew just what they sounded like.

Like they were calling to her.

“It looks like the flock of swans is getting bigger,” she said. “There are babies out there.”

“Lamentation,” Jeremiah said.

“What?”

“Lamentation,” he repeated.

“I know what lamentation is,” she said. “But no one’s crying.” She wiped her face, making sure none of her tears still showed on her cheeks.

“No, madame. The swans. They aren’t a flock. They are a lamentation. Groups of swans are called lamentations.”

“Lamentations.” She reflected on that tidbit for a moment. A lamentation of swans. It was sad. Poetic and dramatic, but sad.

Just like her.

“I miss them,” she whispered.

“They miss you too, madame.”

“Will you wheel me out there? I should like to see them. I’ll take them some bread.”

He looked down at her. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to accompany you down there.”

Juliette reached for her wheelchair, intent on swinging herself into the seat and being wheeled down to the pond.

But Jeremiah pushed the chair out of her reach.

“Jeremiah! What are you doing?”

The doorbell rang, but neither Jeremiah nor Anita moved.

Who in the world could that be, anyway? No one visited. Not in years. And she was glad. She didn’t want to see anyone, anyway. But curiosity got the best of her.

“Well, isn’t anyone going to get that?”

Ramon entered, followed by two gentlemen in black pants and purple polo shirts. The logos on their breast pockets read ALLEGRO PHYSICAL THERAPY.

“No one answered the door, so I let these fellows in,” Ramon said. “This here is my nephew, Pablo. And this is his partner, Tobias.”

Juliette dropped her head and sighed.

Anita said, “Come on. I’ll show you to the ballroom. You’ll have the most space in there.” She led the gentlemen out of the room.

“Do you require my assistance during your session, or will you be all right on your own?” Jeremiah asked her.

The ballroom? Of all places. She hadn’t even looked at the closed doors since she began her convalescence. “I’m not having therapy, so it really doesn’t matter.”

“Very well.”

He scooped her into his arms and started walking toward the door.

She swatted at him, but his body was hard and hers was weak. She imagined she had little impact on his efforts and stopped, saving her hand further injury.

“Jeremiah, please. Put me down.”

“I will, Juliette. In the ballroom.”

“Juliette? You’ve never called me that before. Even when we first met and I asked you to. You said it wasn’t appropriate.”

He stopped outside the ballroom doors. “You’ve never been in my arms before.”

Before she could react, he carried her inside and placed her in the care of her therapists.

* * *

Therapy sessions came and went. More years passed. Juliette’s family–Jeremiah, Anita, and Ramon–nursed her back to health. And, because of them, Juliette once again found love.

She had her second wedding on the lawn, her beloved swans in the background. As she stood with her new husband on the edge of the pond, tossing bread cubes into the water and watching the swirls of fuchsia and flame in the sky melt into the midnight inkiness of nighttime, she put her arms around his neck.

“Dance with me, Jeremiah.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The stars twinkled in the darkness, they and the moon reflecting off the still, dark water.

Swans trumpeted their approval at her choice.

“A lamentation of swans,” he whispered in her ear.

No more lamentations for Juliette. For the first time in forever, she was happy.

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I hope you found this story enjoyable. I wrote it when I was a little sad, but like a true romantic, I pushed for the happy ending. However, as you know from part one’s comments, I originally had a far different (and much sadder) ending in mind. What do you think about happily ever after endings? Always, sometimes, or never? How would you have ended this story? Let’s talk about it. Leave a comment below.

It’s that time again. Time for another First Friday Fiction Feature (#FFFF). Other free feature stories can be found on my Pinterest page (a shared short story board) and on the Freebies page of my site.

Today’s offering is part one of a two-part story. It will conclude in next month’s #FFFF.

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A Lamentation of Swans

“Juliette, you have to go look at it before someone else snaps it up. It’s perfect for you.”

Her toes bled, her feet swelled. She wanted nothing more than to hobble to her apartment and soak in a tub. But Selina, her real estate agent, insisted she tour the property the second the sellers listed it. So, despite her aches and pains, Juliette went to tour the place.

“See, it didn’t take you long to get here,” Selina said.

It really hadn’t. It was close to the dance school, yet set far enough into the country that she could escape the bustle of the city with a short fifteen-minute commute.

“Let me tell you about the place before you look around. It’s ten acres of pristine landscaping. The gardener, Ramon, is willing to stay on, and his fees are quite reasonable. In addition to the house and gardens, this place has its own tennis courts and swimming pool.” Selina swept her hand toward the back of the property, but Juliette couldn’t see past the stately columns in the front of the house.

“Let’s go in,” Juliette said.

“You’re going to love it.” Selina hooked her arm through Juliette’s and guided her inside. “The rooms are spacious. Look at these windows.” Every room seemed to have a wall of windows facing another gardening delight outside. Natural light flooded the rooms, seemingly expanding the already generous spaces.

“And you have to see this.” Selina led her down the hall to a formal ballroom. Hardwood floors gleamed in the late evening light.

“The ballroom could easily be converted to a studio for you. You can add a wall of mirrors and a bar over there” she pointed across the room, “and a sound system. You could workout whenever you wanted.”

That room did have potential. Not that Juliette often danced at home. She spent too many hours dancing at the studio, dancing on stage. Home was for rest. But, still…

Selina guided her to the kitchen, which she’d likely never use for anything more than juicing, but she listened politely while the merits of the space were gushed over.

“Granite countertops, cherry cabinetry, and professional-grade stainless steel appliances. Think of the parties you could host here. And I know a woman who’s looking for a job as a personal chef. Anita. She specializes in healthy gourmet meals. I’ll get you her card. You’ll love her.”

It was a good thing she had a trust fund. Every word out of Selina’s mouth amounted to more money.

They continued exploring the home. The splendor of the master bedroom was eclipsed only by the grandeur of the master bath. The rest of the bedrooms were also generous and well-appointed. The library boasted floor-to-ceiling shelves, and as she already had an extensive collection in storage, filling them wouldn’t be a problem.

“I know it’s a bit large, but you’ll want the space when you settle down, start a family. I can get you the number of several cleaning services, or maybe you’d prefer a butler? I know a–”

Juliette tuned her out. It was a big decision. So much to consider. The house had everything she could possibly want. But was she really ready to commit to it? She had the funds, but she didn’t have the family to fill the place. What if she never did? She couldn’t make up her mind.

Then she saw the natural pond in the back of the property. Swans floated on the nearly black water, their graceful countenances a sign to her.

She was dancing the lead in Swan Lake at the time. Seeing the swans on the property—her property—made it seem like fate. She made an offer on the spot and decided the rest would fall into place later.

And the pieces did fall. Quickly. Soon after moving in, she married the premier danseur in her troupe right on the back lawn, the swans an elegant backdrop to the festivities.

When she decided to stop dancing and start a family, she was happy with the decision. She thought her husband was, too. But as she gained weight, her husband lost interest. And when she lost the baby, he didn’t grieve. He just put her on a diet.

It wasn’t long after until she lost her husband, too. And good riddance to him.

She fought to get back into shape. Fought even harder to earn her the lead in several ballets.

And never quite hit either of her goals.

* * *

Life passed her by, and she retreated to her estate, no friends, no family.

Just her and her staff—Jeremiah the butler, Ramon the gardener, Anita the cook, and Roland the chauffeur. After the first five years of her self-imposed exile, she dismissed Roland.

It depressed her to lose him. After all, he was like family. But she didn’t leave her house any longer.

The house grew darker with her mood. She drew the drapes and stayed inside.

Occasionally she’d take a bag of bread cubes and stroll around the pond, feeding the swans. They trumpeted their joy at her offerings, but it only seemed to make her sadder.

Eventually, she stopped going to the pond.

Then she stopped watching them from her window, preferring to keep all the drapes drawn.

The only time Juliette was happy was when she danced. She wore out CD after CD of Swan Lake, dancing alone in her ballroom. But her feet didn’t move quite as nimbly as they used to, nor did she have any supporting dancers on the floor with her. Still, she felt light and carefree when she danced.

Then, one rainy afternoon, joints achy and muscles tight, she entered the ballroom and began her warmup. Too soon, she spun onto the floor and began the opening number to Swan Lake.

And she fell.

The pain was excruciating. Breath-stealing. It was moments, hours, days? She didn’t know how long she lay there before she had the strength and breath to call for help.

When Jeremiah found her, he rushed her to the hospital. She spent five days away from home, during which she endured countless tests and one surgery.

The doctors said she’d never dance again.

What they didn’t tell her was she’d never walk again.

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I hope you found part one compelling. I’d love to know what you think might happen next. Are you rooting for a happy or sad ending? I’ll be honest–the ending I originally conceived is not the one I’ll be publishing next month. I completely changed my mind right before writing the end.

(Now that the conclusion has been published, you can read it by clicking here.)