THE PAST NEVER DIES

Author: Pandagal19
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: You/Mort
Categories: Romance, Suspense

Disclaimer: I’m saying this for the entire story- I do not own Secret Window or Mort Rainey. I don’t even own Shooter and who would want to keep him? I own the DVD thankfully but it’s not enough. *Grumbles*

Summary: Sequel to "Inspiration". You and Mort are happily married and working on a novel together. When a letter arrives from an ex-girlfriend, problems ensue. Will you convince Mort that she’s trouble? Or will she make you think you’re going crazy?

Author's Note: Here's the sequel to Inspiration! You don’t have to read the first to know what happens here, unless you’re curious to see how you and Mort got together.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 1 - Good News and Some Bad News

Life was wonderful after the incidents occurred in Green Waters Shore. Mort and you were happily married and have been inseparable. Things couldn’t have been better.

Unfortunately, Mort had nightmares that not only terrified him but you as well. They were mostly about Shooter and in those dreams, Mort wasn’t able to handle Shooter and before he knew it your blood was on his hands. It deeply disturbed him and you did your best to soothe those fears.

Finally you thought Mort should go back and end all of his worries by making amends with his past. Mort wasn’t sure if it was a good idea but you convinced him that would stop those nightmares. So he agreed.

First stop was where it all began in Tashmore Lake. Upon arriving, you found out that Dave Newsome had passed a couple of months ago. The new Sheriff was a much younger guy and moved to Tashmore Lake right after the old sheriff died. He only knew bits and pieces of the Rainey case as written by Newsome. You explained the situation to him and how Mort suffered plenty from this, even though he didn’t do the crime.

“I saw Shooter sir. He’s as real as you and me and he killed those people not Mort. Shooter linked my husband to those murders so everyone would think he was crazy. Mort tried to tell everyone that it wasn’t him but no one believed him. How would that make you feel if all your friends turned against you?” you told him in the humid little office.

The Sheriff pondered for a moment and looked at Mort. Sighing, he replied, “I guess you’re right Mrs. Rainey. But you never said that this Shooter was arrested. I really don’t know much about this but when you came in the people here were starting with the complaints. I have no choice but to look into the matter. This job isn’t easy as most would think.”

You nodded. “I understand very much. But the reason I never mentioned about Shooter’s arrest was that he ran off. I’m sure he’s hiding but I doubt he’ll return.” You paused and then continued. “Sheriff, couldn’t you at least tell the townspeople that Mort didn’t have any part in this? It would make him feel a lot better and me as well. I can verify those who don’t believe Mort and say I seen Shooter. I mean he had a thing for me.”

Leaning back in his seat the Sheriff agreed.

Most of the people weren’t sure if they could trust Mort. But Mort was a new man and you could see in his eyes and actions that he wasn’t a madman.

When done with that, you and Mort took a drive out to the cabin where he used to live. The beauty of it was absolutely breathtaking. You could see why Mort bought it.

Pulling up, the For Sale sign was still there and Mort grunted. “No one wanted to buy it. Felt the place was cursed.”

You chuckled and got out of the car. Mort motioned you to follow him and you went to the backyard. He pointed out where Shooter buried Amy and Ted. The corn stalks that once produced delicious cobs were dried up and shriveled. Kneeling down, Mort brushed some of the dirt away.

“This is the spot I seen in my dreams,” he said. “They’re down there (you).”

“Come on,” you said. “Let’s get these out and put the proper resting remembrance.”

It took a few hours but the hard work paid off. The stalks were all removed and in place was two memory rocks for Amy and Ted.

You wrapped your arms around Mort’s waist and kissed him on the cheek. “There, do you feel much better?”

“I do,” he replied.

~3 months later~

Your hands twitched nervously. The clock, hanging on the kitchen wall, was ticking as the minutes were being counted down to judgment day. Your eyes were glued to it as the big hand moved another minute. Only five minutes left.

Out of habit, you checked your watch to make sure the time was the same. It was.

You took a deep breath. You weren’t quite sure how to bring this up to Mort when he came home. He was out with a friend and you weren’t sure how others say these kinds of things.

Bandit awoke from his nap and let out a bark. You got up to greet your husband. Mort was walking in with a huge grin on his handsome face.

“How’s my lovely muse?” Mort asked.

You smiled. “Good. So how are things with Bob?”

“Fine. He said hello by the way.” Mort moved over to you and planted a tantalizing kiss on your lips. “You’re terrific.”

“Yeah,” you laughed. You moved away from him.

Mort looked at you confused. Normally when he kissed you, you buckle in his hold and racing to get to the bedroom.

“(You)? Is everything okay?”

“Mort, you have to sit down,” you told him.

Mort did and grew even more confused and worried. You sat beside him and took his hands. Not sure where to begin, you looked him straight in the eye.

“Mort, for the past couple of weeks I’ve been not feeling like myself.”

“I noticed. (You) I thought you said it could be your sinus or something. It’s not too serious is it?” Mort interrupted.

“I guess it’s how you look at it. Well, I was late and I started to think that I was and Mort. Mort, love, you’re going to be a father.”

“A father? You mean you’re-?” Mort asked, growing excited.

You nodded with enthusiasm. “We’re going to be parents!”

Mort jumped up and let out a whoop. He picked you up and pressed kisses all over your face. You started giggling at Mort’s reaction. You were so glad he was just as happy as you were. Setting your hand on your belly, Mort carefully set you on your feet.

“You don’t think I hurt the baby?” he asked alarmed.

“No you didn’t,” you answered. The bright goofy, grin returned to his face.

“You just made me the happiest man in the world, you know that?”

“I hope so since you made me the happiest girl in the world,” you told him.

“I love you (you) and from on nothing bad will happen to you or the baby. I promise.”

A few days later news about the baby spread. Everyone who knew you and Mort now knows there’s a little Rainey along the way. Mort still couldn’t believe he was going to be a daddy. It was a shocker. Each day he awoke with a beaming face that could light up an all powered electrical house (A/N: Don’t ask. Sounded good to use).

You were happy that Mort was doing fine. You knew about the miscarriage that Mort and Amy suffered, but by the look of things this wasn’t brought up. Mort was indeed a brand new man with a new purpose in life. You could see it in his eyes and smile. This made you so proud of him that he was finally getting his life back on track.

Also, you and Mort were working on a novel together. It was your idea that came about a month ago. You pitched the notion to Mort who thought it was absolutely brilliant! It had everything: drama, suspense, and romance.

It’s about a woman who stalks her former high school sweetheart. She believes they’re meant to be and after is rejected, she goes all Fatal Attraction (A/N: I don’t own the movie). Now, she’s on a mission to scarce off her love’s wife so she can marry him.

Mort loved the comment “going all Fatal Attraction” when you described it. You pointed out a few details that could be use and Mort agreed it was something out of the flick. It was wonderful that the two of you would be working together. You wanted to for so long, but never had an idea that stuck around long enough to put to good use. This one was perfect in your eyes. It was truly going to be a masterpiece.

One afternoon, you and Mort were taking a lunch break from the grueling and evil writer’s block. You were making up some sandwiches when Mort brought the mail in. You could hear him mumbling, “Bill . . . bill . . . fan mail . . . bill . . . credit card bill . . . fan mail . . . oh wait, bill.”

You laughed to yourself. Then you heard him go, “What?”

You turned around to see Mort holding an envelope with a look of confusion drawn all over his countenance. You went over and took the letter. It was drenched in musky perfume. The scent stung your nose and you held it away from you so you could breath.

“I bet this fan mail is for you,” you choked.

He shook his head. “It’s not fan mail. It’s from my former girlfriend.”

“Oh. I wonder if anyone told her this is not the scent you want to grab a guy’s attention.” You handed him the letter and he awkwardly accepted.

Ripping it open, he quickly scanned the letter and placed it on the table with a grim look.

You reached over and took it. “Let’s see: Dear Mort, blah blah blah. Sorry about Amy must be tough blah blah. Wondering if you’re going to attend high school reunion. Been awhile meet for lunch or dinner to catch up on old times. Hope to see you soon then.”

The next letter in the pile was from Mort’s high school. You set the letter down and took a seat.

“Well?” Mort suddenly asked.

“Well what?” you shrugged.

“The letter. What should I do?”

“Mort, I don’t know why you’re getting all work up. It’s obviously friendly and I think going to your reunion would be fun. So I see no problem.”

“I don’t mean the reunion. I mean her asking me to eat. She wants to see me,” he stressed.

“Mort, if you’re uncomfortable seeing your old girlfriend by yourself then I’ll go with you. Though I don’t understand why.”

“I don’t want to see her,” Mort announced. “Seeing Julie will bring back some awful memories.”

“Why?”

He sighed. “Julie was one of the popular and prettiest girls in my school. I had a crush on her since the 9th grade. Well, when we were Juniors I had the guts to ask her out and we did until our sophomore year in college. She broke up with me when I told her for sure I was going to be an author. She thought it was a phase I was going through and never took it seriously until I sold my first story. Then she started to believe me.

“She wanted to be with someone with a stable job and earnings. You know an office gig. After we broke up, I found out later that she was seeing other guys when she going with me. At that time I was dating Amy so it didn’t really bother me that much.”

“I’m sorry Mort. Boy, two strikes one after the other.”

“Yeah but three’s a charm,” Mort finished with a grin.

“Three’s a charm? Then I guess for me you will be number two,” you teased.

“You’re not getting off that easy missy. You’re sticking around until I die,” Mort joked.

“We’ll see. So do you want to see Julie before or at your reunion?”

“At the reunion,” Mort replied.

“Sounds good,” you said.

“And I get to show off my beautiful wife and baby,” Mort smiled.

“Well, beautiful wife with baby,” you chuckled. “By the way when is it?”

Mort opened the letter and read it over. “Let’s see, August 7th. In about a few weeks I think.”

“Better do some shopping I suppose,” you said.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 2 - High School Reunion

The reunion was approaching faster than you expected. You went around to double-check everything that was pack. Tomorrow morning you and Mort were leaving for Derry, Maine. It would be a day's drive there so best to leave early and arrive early.

As you and Mort lay in bed, thoughts were racing through both minds as to what was to come. You were a wee bit nervous to meet Mort's old friends and then Julie popped in your mind for a split second. You wondered what she was like. You told yourself there was no reason to be jealous. After all, you were wearing the wedding ring and pregnant with the man's kid so she should be jealous.

Get over it, you scolded yourself. Mort's happy with you. Maybe Julie has a husband too. So there's no way to behave like a schoolgirl here.

Mort, on the other hand, was scared shitless. It's been years since he saw the first woman who broke his heart. He didn't want to say this in front of you, but after he found out about Julie's affairs, it bothered him to the core. It didn't matter that he was dating Amy then, the fact was that someone he cared about hurt him ever so deeply. And he almost proposed to Julie on the very same night she broke up with him.

Then there was Amy. He thought she was different then boom! Ted was a part of their life and there was Shooter at his door. His sanity and torn emotions waged a painful war within Mort that finally all Hell broke loose.

But through all that depression and darkness, a bright glorious light shone through and took all those terrible feelings and thrown them away. A small smile tugged at the corners of Mort's lips as he thought back to when you two first met.

Why he couldn't have met you before still played a mystery in his mind. If he met you before Amy and before Julie then no one would have been dead. Shooter would have never existed and his life would still be going with no worries of getting back up.

You saved him in this personal Hell that he condemned himself to. This torture no longer bare pain to Mort now that he found you. You were his angel all right and he could face Julie with no worries and no regrets. He could do this with you by his side.

"Bye Bandit and don't give Mrs. Garvey any trouble okay?" you cooed to the dog as you and Mort were leaving.

"Yeah buster. No trouble," Mort added.

"I'll be in the car," you said and gave Bandit one more pat on the head and a kiss. When you were gone Mort got down and pulled the animal closer.

"Don't tell (you) I told you this but feel free to go nuts when Mrs. Garvey shows up. Bite her, make her clean after you, I don't care! I'll give you some extra treats if you do so when I come back. How does that sound?"

Bandit wagged his tail and nodded in understanding. "Good boy!" With one last look Mort left.

"I'm glad we moved here Mort," you said. "Luckily for us, no one bought your cabin."

"Really lucky of us then," he agreed. "Do you really like living in Tashmore?"

You nodded. "It's perfect for Bandit, us, and to raise our kids."

"Yeah it sure is. I could teach them how to swim in the lake while you cook in the kitchen."

"Ha ha."

~2 Hours into Drive~

"So Mort, you never told me what clique you were a part of," you told him.

"Promise you won't laugh. (You nod yes) Okay, I was part of the school's paper and I had the highest grades in my class. I was President in my Chess Club-"

"So basically you were a nerd," you finished with a giggle.

"Hey you said you wouldn't laugh!"

You covered your mouth and a snort escape. "Sorry! And look at you now, a rich writer. I bet everyone will envy you."

"Maybe. So what about you?"

You smiled. "Well, I did get good grades for one. I earned the most records for track and for a short time I was part of my school's dance team. It didn't work out like I expected."

"What happened?"

"Let's just say I was trying to impress this boy and my plan backfired."

"Backfired?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "He ended up with the captain of the cheerleaders."

"So you were never a cheerleader?" Mort asked.

You shook your head. "Nope. I knew them and I didn't want to be like that you know? So I found my own ways to enjoy my high school years and I did."

After saying that, Julie came back in your mind. Was she a cheerleader? He did say she was one of the most popular girls so could it be she was a cheerleader? Why else would he bring it up? Was Mort trying to get you jealous? No he wouldn't do that. Or would he?

~Nighttime, Derry~

It was dark out by the time you arrived at the hotel. You were exhausted and you wanted to find a bed and crash. Mort helped you out and led you into the lobby to check in.

You looked around and you spotted some people who, you probably thought, were attending the reunion also. Mort got the key and told you he was going to drop you off in the room and he would get the stuff.

"No, honey. I'll help," you murmured.

Mort shook his head. "I can see how tired you are and it won't help if you're lugging around heavy suitcases."

"Mort Rainey? Christ Rainey! How's it hanging?"

You and Mort looked up to see a man about thirty approaching you. He had a powerful walk and stood with such pride. His name is Dane Kimball, one of Mort's best pals when growing up. Dane came from a respected family of lawyers so it didn't surprise many that he became one too. He was slightly taller than Mort and light brown curls atop his head. He peered at you with mischief in his twinkling green eyes, which later on Mort told you he always had that look even if he didn't cause any chaos.

"Really well in fact. Dane, I want you to meet my wife (you). (You) this is Dane Kimball, the guy who knows me so well."

Dane threw back his head and a booming chuckle came out. He was a jolly fellow for a lawyer.

"Nice to meet you," you said.

"Likewise. Uh, Mort, I heard about Amy and I'm really sorry."

Mort shrugged it off. "Yeah well I guess it wasn't meant to be. But I'm much happier now with (you) than I was with Amy."

"That's good. Too bad you couldn't meet my wife. She wasn't able to make it unfortunately."

"Is she sick?" you asked.

"Nope dead." You and Mort looked at each other mortified. Before any apologizes could come out, a huge grin grew on Dane's face and laughed again.

"Don't feel bad. I think Mort should tell you that I am a kidder. I was the comic relief in the group that we hung out with. But my wife is dead. Car accident caused by a damn drunk."

"No matter how serious something was Dane always had a joke to lighten the mood," explained Mort. "But gosh, Dane, I am sorry about Joan."

"Thanks man. Well your wife looks like she could kick the bucket any times soon so I'll leave you to get all packed and see ya tomorrow. Night Mort, (you)."

"Night Dane," you and Mort said in unison.

When the man left, you turned to Mort who shook his head. "That's Dane for you. So how about we hit the hay and get the stuff in the morning?"

"Sure."

~Next Day~

During breakfast, you met more of Mort's friends. They were all very nice and had their own ways of saying sorry about Amy. Mort didn't let the fact get to him so he put on a smile and nodded to the loss. But all that was ended when Mort told his friends that you were expecting. To say congratulations, Dane lifted his orange juice in a toast to the couple, which everyone followed in suit.

You could see a slight touch of pink touch your husband's cheeks, but he was deeply touched by the gesture. You took your time to scan the room to look for any suspected Julie's. Most of the women there were with their husbands. You studied the women's faces carefully to see if any of them could be a Julie. You found a couple candidates, but they weren't her.

Stop doing that! your mind screamed. If she is there then she's with her husband.

When breakfast was over, some of the women left to get their hair and nails done for tonight. You were going to do it the old-fashioned way and do it yourself. Well, you didn't have much choice if you did want it professionally done. Mort didn't you to leave his sight. You weren't even close to your due date and that's how Mort was treating it. You decided just to go with it if it made him better.

Dane came over and struck up conservation with you. Mort was off to the side chatting with some other people.

"So expecting huh? That's great. I don't know if Mort told you but I am a lawyer."

"Yes Mort told me. So you never lost a case?" you asked.

Dane put on a pleased look. "It's true. Excited about tonight?"

You nodded. "I can't wait."

"That's nice. I don't mean to offend you but I have heard the rumors."

"You have? What are you getting at?"

"Mort's your husband and he's my friend so I don't want to come off with the wrong way. Does Mort need any legal help at all? I could do it without charge. Reporters nowadays are such bloodsuckers that they don't really capture the truth and write what they think. If Mort needs someone to fight off those bastards and clear the facts that he had no part in foul play then I'm the guy. But don't tell him I said that for now. Here's my card and give me a jingle if you need it." Dane got up and left you feeling, well, you weren't sure what.

Mort came over and sat beside you. "Hey why don't we get out of here and do some sightseeing? I can show you where the school is."

"Sounds good to me."

It took about ten minutes and there it was. Mort's old high school, Chippewa Valley. It was pretty big, about two stories, and there was a large banner on the front that read, "Blue Ribbon School."

"I almost forgot about that," Mort said.

"What?"

He pointed to the banner. "The way we got it it's actually funny. The state has this thing they have where schools can try out to earn this blue ribbon. Only so many can get this acknowledgement. I remember how all the teachers and the principal was making a big deal out of it and all the students could care less."

"So how did your school get it?" you asked, growing interested.

"The school was qualified and these people from the state was to come over and survey the school to see if it's capable to carry this prestigious award. We did and the ceremony was already set until the state took it away from us. Our participation of students taking the MEAs was under the required amount.

"Someone found out there were other schools that were given the blue ribbon, but with less participation in the MEAs than us. So the school had a fit and argued with the state until they had given us the ribbon. The entire staff was so thrilled about it and the students didn't give a damn."

You laughed. "Really? Sounds like your school was desperate to get it then."

"Oh yeah. They tried for years and never came close until I was a sophomore. They are so damn proud of that ribbon," Mort chuckled. "Let's head over into town and after that it will be time to get ready."

The town of Derry seemed to be a welcoming place. People were out walking around and doing business with one another.

Mort parked the car and together you walk hand in hand down the sidewalk. You stopped in front of a glass shop and peered through the window. The creations were divine and so beautifully done. There were glass dogs, cats, exotic animals, mermaids, birds you name it.

Mort looked over your shoulder. "Those are neat," he said.

"Yeah," you paused. "Hey doesn't that dog remind you of Bandit?"

In one of the showcases, there was a small dog lying on his back with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. It was too precious. "He does. Let's get it," Mort said.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's a souvenir of our trip to Derry. I'll be right back."

Mort ran inside to get the little dog. While you waited, a woman came up to you.

"Was that Mort Rainey?" she asked curiously.

You blinked at her. "Why, yes, that's my husband."

Ignoring your answer, she pressed up against the window to get a better look. "I thought so. God, it's been years."

You gave her a strange look. Who was this woman? Before you could say anything she turned to you.

"I'm sorry, you said that was your husband right?"

You nodded. This person was peculiar all right. Her face dropped in what? Sadness? You couldn't tell. Then a cheerful expression came back. "You're lucky than. Most women don't knew what it's like to have a good man until the opportunity passes."

You took the time to get a look at her. She had long deep red hair and light almond eyes. Dashes of freckles were all over her face. He skin was lightly tan, most likely from a tan bed at a salon, and was wearing this bright crimson lipstick. The thing that struck out most was her outfit. It appeared like she was in some kind of mourning. She wore a black dress that went down to her knees and a small black headpiece with a short veil attached to it. To top it off, she was wearing a dark pair of shoes, but you couldn't tell what the color was exactly.

"How rude of me! By the way, my name is Julie. Julie Torrance."

She held out her hand and for a second you didn't know what to do with it. She stared at you with this small smile that kind of creep you out. It was like she knew this secret and was taunting you just to ask her what it was.

"(You) Rainey," you finally answered. You shook her hand and for a moment you had this feeling to laugh out. This was got you all work up? There was no reason for jealousy. In fact you didn't see anything spectacular about her. This relaxed you.

"I don't mean to be a bother, but did Mort get my letter?" she asked hopefully.

"We did." You felt yourself becoming more comfortable. Oh, and the good thing was she wasn't wearing any of that perfume!

"I'm glad Mort came. You know he missed all of the other reunions and everyone wants to know what's going on in his life," she explained. "Especially now since almost everyone heard about Amy. Wait, oh no, your name's not Amy is it? No it's (you). Mort got remarried?"

"Yeah," you said slowly. Is she some type of ditz? Or is she trying to be funny? you thought.

Julie slapped her forehead. "Well duh he did! Otherwise, why would you say 'Rainey' as your name? Oh! Look at the time! I have to go. Nice meeting you and see you tonight!" She turned around and was gone in record timing.

"Strange woman," you muttered. Mort came up from behind.

"Who was that?" he asked.

"That would be your former girlfriend," you replied. Mort's eyes grew wide and gulped.

* * * *

"(You), are you ready now?" Mort asked for like the hundredth time.

"You can't put time on perfection," you said as you applied your eyeliner. You smooth out your dress but there was a little bump at your stomach. That was due to the little bundle of joy.

"You look fine, sweetie," Mort told you. He wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on top of your head. "Absolutely stunning I might add. The little pregnant belly is actually sexy."

You laughed softly and playfully smacked his arm. "I just want to make a good impression. I just wish this dress didn't make it so obvious. I can't believe when I bought it you could barely notice and now this."

"Are you embarrassed to have my child?"

"No! I'm thrilled Mort, but it's just a girl thing," you decided to say. You didn't want to go into exact detail of how you wanted to savor the last time you would see yourself thin again.

He nodded in understanding but in reality he hadn't have a clue what you meant. Might as well pretend you do know. Moving you in arm's length, Mort took a good look and smiled. "You're breathtaking, babe," he said. That made you feel better.

As you were leaving the room you asked Mort if Julie always dressed up like that. Mort squinted his eyes racking his brain for an answer. "No," he said. "No, I think that started after we were through."

"You don't think she still has feelings for you?" you asked uncertain.

Mort broke out in fits of laughter. He wiped away a tear and quickly sobers up from the cold stare you gave him. "She broke up with me. So I doubt she does. (You), you're my wife. You're the only woman for me so there's nothing for you to fear."

You weren't sure. Mort did have a point but what if he's wrong? This you thought about all the way to the school.

* * * *

"Welcome back Class of '88! Before the party starts we have our own celebrity here so let's give it up to Morton Rainey!" the announcer yelled.

People applauded as Mort did a little wave from the bar. Dane cracked up and slapped Mort on the back. "These people love you Morty!"

"Because I have money," Mort replied. This set off Dane again.

Calming down, Dane became serious. "Mort, I gotta tell you. You're one lucky SOB."

Taking a sip from his beer Mort gestured for him to continue. So he did. "(You) is one swell gal. I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks man," Mort told him. "Do you want me to buy you a drink?"

Dane shook his head. "Naa. Hey you haven't seen Julie yet?"

Mort spit up his drink. Dane gave Mort a quizzical look as the writer quickly recovered. "No, why?"

"She's been looking forward to see you. You know, your wife told me you two are working on a novel together. Pretty impressive," Dane said, changing the topic.

"It sure is. All (you)'s idea too. She has great storylines that just comes out on the top of her head. We're hoping for this one to become on the New York Times top 10 list of bestsellers."

"That's some goal. So how far are you guys?"

Mort gave him a so-so wave.

"Well I'll bet it'll be terrific. I think your wife is looking for you," Dane pointed out.

Sure enough you were lost in this crowd of strangers looking for Mort. He went up to get you some water and it was taking him too long. You were thirsty and decided to go get it yourself. You heard Dane shouting your name and there was Mort with him. Pushing through, you made it to the bar.

"Sorry (you). Dane wanted to know about the novel," Mort said as he handed you your drink with this guilty expression.

"That's all right. I really needed this." You took a large gulp as the cool refreshment slid down your throat. "Sounds pretty good doesn't it?" you asked, directing this to Dane.

"Yeah that was what Mort was saying."

Before you ask Dane another question, a woman with red hair pushed you to the side. You lost your balance but thankfully Mort was behind to catch you.

"Bartender, I need a scotch on the rocks," she ordered. She turned her head and when she recognized you, the words came tumbling out. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you!"

You just had your mouth open to say something back when Julie's attention went from you to the man who stood behind you. "Mort?"

Mort cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Hi Julie."

"Well all I can say is about time you showed up to one of these!" she said.

"Yeah, well, (you) convince me to come," Mort explained.

She blinked in confusion and quickly remembered whom. "I met your wife earlier today. She's charming. Where is she?"

"Um, I'm right here," you said while raising your hand.

"Oh! Sorry!" she giggled. What in the world? you thought. You saw Dane roll his eyes in a Puh-eeze way.

"It's good to see you again Mort. I just wish you could meet my boyfriend Chaz. He couldn't come because of work or something like that," she went on. "He's hoping to be a writer also! Hey! Maybe one day you could read one of his short stories! He'll love to have a famous writer read his little manuscript."

"Maybe," Mort replied, not to keen on the idea.

"Gloria told me about the baby. Congratulations you two! So do you know what it is yet?"

You decided to take this one. "Not yet Julie. I'm not that far to know. Mort and I are just hoping for the baby to be healthy. We don't care what the sex is."

"Personally, I would love to have a daughter. Boy's are boys but a girl I could really teach her things I know," Julie said. She turned over to Dane. "Hey Dane! Where's Joan?"

Sadness crept into his eyes and sympathy struck your heart. How could she ask that?

"Joan's gone Julie. I told you that when you asked me earlier," Dane replied.

"That's right. It must be the drink talking, Dane. I'm sorry," she told him. Julie squeezed his arm. "I know how much you loved her."

"Thanks Julie," Dane answered softly. "I'm going to sit down."

Your first reaction was to yell at her for behaving so childishly. The poor guy's wife is gone and how can you forget that? But the words wouldn't form on your lips.

"I feel awful now," she whined. "Joan was so sweet. God poor Dane."

"Yeah I know," you said.

Bitterness filled her face. "Excuse me, but did you know Joan? No I don't think you do so how could you possibly know what Dane's feeling? Joan was one of my good friends and you know nothing about her!"

"She does!" Mort shouted. "She knows exactly what Dane feels. So what if (you) never knew Joan. That's no reason for you to get on her case. Anyways, you don't know what (you) went through before I met her." Mort was furious. He wasn't going to let Julie talk like that to his wife. Especially since he's standing right there!

"I didn't mean to sound so bitter, but I'm hurting also. It was just a reflex," she explained.

You bit back the comment, "Odd, if you're hurting then why did you forget that 'your friend' died?"

"Maybe I should lay off the drinks," Julie said. "You know how I can get Mort."

"Yeah I do," he replied, not looking at her.

For a moment the three of you were silent and only talked when someone came up to ask the usual questions of how's it going.

Finally Julie spoke up, "Hey, would you guys like to sit over at my table? I mean we could catch up on old times and get to know each other better. Just minutes ago were completely uncalled for and I profusely apologized for my behavior. It's just when I drink I can become bitchy."

Mort look to you for an answer. You sighed and said, "Why not?"

The rest of the night flew by. The music was hopping and the DJ played everything from 80s music to today's with the latest hits. You and Mort slowed dance to most of the slow songs, including No One Else Comes Close and As Long As You Love Me by Backstreet Boys.

While Mort was gone getting food or whatever, you got the chance to talk to Julie by yourself. Despite how she treated you earlier, she seemed more down to earth and her head wasn't in the clouds anymore.

She wasn't the captain of the Big Reds squad, she told you, but the co- captain. She was popular but not as much as the captain, which was Dane's late wife.

"Mort," she laughed. "Was as timid as a mouse! And he would go to all of the football games but never would approach me. I knew who he was and he seemed nice, yet was so shy! It was so cute!"

The two of you exchanged some Mort stories. Julie told you how one time Mort fell down the stairs after asking her out. "He wasn't paying attention," she recalled. "After I said, 'Yes', he was walking backwards towards the stairs and before anyone could tell him; he turned around and fell on his face. On our first date he wore a nose bandage."

You told her how one time Mort was taking a nap on the couch and Bandit was on top of him, licking his face while he was dreaming about you. "Sometimes Mort talks in his sleep and he was saying, '(You) right there. That feels good.' Then he wrapped his arms around the dog and poor Bandit sneezed on his face! That look on Mort's face was a Kodak moment. I was standing in front of them laughing my head off!"

Mort was glad you two were getting along. At the bar he was afraid you would rip her throat out. Whenever he got back to the table, you two would be laughing uncontrollably and was completely oblivious that he was the main reason.

* * * *

As the reunion dwindled down and everyone started to leave, you left with an incredible feeling. Julie appeared to be not so bad. She reminded you of your old best friend, Jamie, that would sometimes be out there but the sweetest and most kindhearted girl ever. Before heading back to the hotel, you and Julie exchanged addresses and numbers to keep in contact.

"So did you have a good time?" Mort asked.

"I sure did. Julie's not so bad once you get to know her," you reflected. "Strange but sweet you know?"

"That's good."

"Mort, did you know she doesn't live far from Tashmore?" you yawned. "A small place called Beacon about 75 miles away."

Little did you know that you would be seeing Julie quite soon again.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 3 - Homecoming Surprise

The next morning, you and Mort said your good-byes as you headed home. The trip was quicker and in no time Mort was pulling up into the cabin. You took one step out and heard Bandit whining.

“He’s happy,” Mort remarks.

Mrs. Garvey came out, her face red and her hair messed up. She approached you huffing and puffing.

“Mrs. Rainey, Bandit was such a delight,” she began. “But I’m afraid he swallowed my ring. You know the one that you bought me for Christmas with the small ruby. And just moments ago he jumped on me.”

“My God Mrs. Garvey! I can’t believe he did that! I’m so so sorry!” you told her. “Bandit didn’t hurt you?”

“No, but he startled me.”

A loud snort came over by the car. Mort stuck his head around the trunk and said he had something caught in his throat. You knew exactly what he meant.

“Don’t worry about the ring,” you said. “I’ll have Mort look for it and clean it so it’ll be good as new.”

Mort heard this and silently cursed himself. Every joke comes with a consequence, but he didn’t think it will be this bad. After you successfully calmed Mrs. Garvey, you paid her and promised the ring in its good return.

She left and when she was out of sight, Mort broke. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

“Mort, it’s not funny!” you scolded. “She’s old. Bandit could have seriously hurt her.”

“I doubt it,” Mort got out between laughs.

“If you don’t like her than just fire her.”

Mort thought for a moment. “I could but she’s the cheapest housekeeper I could find.”

You threw your arms up. Men. Always looking for an easy way out no matter the cost.

* * * *

The sun started to set over the lake just as you and Mort were finishing dinner. You got up from the table to put your plate in the sink. You went back to get Mort’s when he pulled you into his lap. Holding you tightly, he proceeded to place enticing kisses upon the base of your neck.

You let yourself succumb to his ministrations. The kisses became more intense and before anything could go further, an intrusive knock brought you both back to reality.

“I’ll get it,” you murmured, already missing the heated contact. Reluctantly, you went to the door with Mort a few steps behind. Opening it, Julie Torrance stood quivering before you.

Her eyes were bloodshot from some heavy sobbing she did on the way over. Her clothes were ragged and there was a small cut on her left cheek. Sniffling, she literally crushed you in a death-like embrace.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” she cried. “I didn’t nowhere to go and I knew that you weren’t that far so I had to come.”

“Julie, are you all right?” you gasped as her grip began to loosen.

Mort closed the door and together you two followed Julie to the living room. She sat on the couch and didn’t say anything. The only sound was of her blowing her nose. You and Mort sat patiently, waiting for her explanation.

After five minutes, Julie was able to compose herself, just enough to tell you the tale. Apparently, after returning, Chaz was home early from work and a fight exploded. Julie was vague on the details of the argument but the only thing she remembered was Chaz hitting her across the face and his ring cutting her cheek. She packed a few belongings and fled the house to drive, somewhere, anywhere away from him. She had no place to turn to and since you weren’t far, she drove from the boring town of Beacon to Tashmore Lake.

“And here I am,” she finished. “I hope I wasn’t intruding.”

“No.” “Yes.” You and Mort looked at each other. “No.”

Julie smiled. “I’m so glad that you live nearby. I don’t know where I would go if you weren’t.”

“Perhaps we should call the police,” Mort suggested.

“Why?” Julie questioned alarmed.

“You’re pretty shaken up about this. And hitting another person is assault,” Mort said. He reached over to the handset when Julie jumped up to stop him. “No!”

You did a double take. “Julie, your boyfriend hit you. You’re bleeding and you shouldn’t ignore this. He did something wrong.”

“It was the first time,” Julie shot back. “It’s nothing. A small cut. Big deal. No need to call the cops. Things will cool off soon.”

“Maybe you could stay here for a couple of days,” you said. “That way things will cool off.”

“Really? Oh thank you!” Julie squealed with delight. She ran over and gave you a hug. “You’re the best (you).” In all of the excitement, no one notice Bandit standing by the kitchen, growling quietly at the uninvited guest.

* * * *

“Now are you sure you’re okay?” you asked Julie once more.

She nodded. “(You), I’m fine, no worries. I’m sure Chaz was upset about his story. He had, um, what do you call that thing when you can’t write?”

“Writer’s block,” answered Mort. Julie snapped her fingers. “That’s it! I knew it had writer in it.”

You glanced over at the clock, it was becoming late and you were trying hard not to stifle a yawn. “Well, I’m off to bed,” you told them. “Julie, if you need anything our room is upstairs.” She nodded once more.

Mort watched you disappear and then excused himself to go to bed as well.

“Mort,” Julie called. “I want to say, you look good. It’s good to see that you have a loving wife.”

“Thanks Julie.”

“Sometimes I wish I never broken up with you. It was selfish of me at the time and I would like to make it up to you.”

“No thanks Julie. Really you don’t have to,” Mort said quickly.

She lowered her eyes. “Well, if you changed your mind-“

“I doubt it.” Mort, feeling a bit violated, though not quite sure as to why, hurried off to the bedroom.

* * * *

Julie was stretched out on the couch, trying every comfortable position to fall asleep. She wasn’t having very much luck. Groaning, she got up and moved over to look at the clock, which was placed on top of the mantle of the fireplace. Her eyes wandered over to the little glass dog that Mort bought in Derry.

Cute, she thought. Looking back towards the couch, she didn’t want to try sleeping on it again. Her legs were sore from constantly on the go. She looked up to the closed bedroom door by the stairs, making a 100% positive check that the Rainey’s’ were under the Sandman’s spell.

Grinning to herself in the dark, she quietly climbed the stairs. You told her about the novel and she was eager to read it. You flat out and told her no since it was incomplete and needed some heavy editing. Julie didn’t care. When there was something she wanted, she would find a way to get it. She didn’t make co-captain of the cheerleading squad just by trying out. Oh no. The person deciding was the coach’s nerdy son and the chance of him going anywhere with a girl was slim. An easy, yet disgusting, chore was done before the audition.

She slightly opened the door to the Office and stepped inside. She stumbled around looking over a light switch. Finding it, she flipped it on and waited to adjust to the burning sensation.

The Office used to be a guest room that you and Mort converted after you were married. The little workplace Mort had on top of the stairs wouldn’t be able to hold two working writers so the Office came into view.

It was messy with stacks of papers all over, crumpled up pieces piling in the trash, two computers with printers standing at two different desks, one desk overflowing of papers, folders, and empty Doritos bags. Despite the look of the room, it was in fact very organized in your perception.

Julie tiptoed over to the “cleaner” desk and found exactly what she was looking for. A folder labeled “Untitled” stood out amongst all of the junk on it. Grasping her prize with victory, Julie sat at your chair and opened it. There were quite a few pages so far done on the manuscript.

“By the rate we’re going, I think it will be just a novella than a novel,” you said once to Julie.

She had no idea what you meant, but that didn’t bother her in the least. She began to read the first paragraph:

Tracey Winters, most popular and beautiful girl at Bailey High. Captain of her cheerleading squad, honor roll student, a “modeled student” according to the teacher’s standards, had everything always handed to her on a pedestal. Even today, she could get away with murder without trying hard. But there was one thing that Tracey Winters wanted and he was by far out of her reach.

“Good start,” muttered Julie. Already she could see a few things in common with this Tracey Winters. She skipped the rest and turned to the next page.

She couldn’t believe it! Tracey simply couldn’t believe her private detective’s report upon it being handed to her after Wilkes read it aloud. She skimmed the words, hoping to find a mistake somewhere in the chicken scratch he calls writing. The truth was there in black and white, and she tried hard to prevent the tears that were threatening to spill. Philip Jackson, her beloved beau from Bailey was married. It surprised her very much, since graduation was seven years ago. It was practically fresh in her mind of being handed her diploma. It seemed like days ago and not years.

Tracey took the report and headed home without a word to do some studying. The fact that bothered her the most was Phil’s wife, Charity. She was a few years older than her husband and in Tracey’s opinion, truly needed some act of charity. The woman was plain looking, not very much attractive. She wore no make-up (horror in Tracey’s mind) and her clothes were simple and well cleaned. In the picture, Charity was proudly showing off her large belly, no doubt she was pregnant.

Tracey set the pictures down and read the report. It said, “Mrs. Jackson was close to her due date when unfortunately, suffered a miscarriage. She was pushed down the stairs by a co-worker who was in an extreme rush. Mrs. Jackson didn’t suffer any serious injury, except the emotional torn of her unborn child.”

“Poor woman.” Julie sighed. Becoming bored with the important details, she skipped the next several pages and continued:

After meeting Charity, a devious plot hatched in Tracey’s mind. She was so kind, so willing to lend a hand no matter whom. This was perfect as Tracey drove up a few blocks away from the house. She put the vehicle in Park and took a look at the goodies she brought. Opening up her make-up case on the passenger seat, Tracey took out the desire objects including a small knife and places them on the dashboard.

“Let’s see how stupid minded she is,” Tracey said to herself. She could picture it exactly, her pulling up, running to the door and sobbing to Charity about facing a carjacker. She relays the information once more in her mind of the carjacker. Too bad for Wilkes, though. He pissed off Tracey and for that he needed to be taken care of. Tracey’s shrill laughter filled the BMW as she took the knife and cut the corner part of her lip. It was way to ea-

Julie stopped abruptly. She thought she heard footsteps in the next room and waited silently. The steps were heavy so she figured it was Mort. She held her breath and listened, as the steps grew faint. She exhaled and nervous laughter came out after.

Then the door swung opened and Julie let out a cry and turned to see Mort’s furious face staring back at her for trespassing in a private room.

That didn’t happen. Julie laughed inside. Her mind was playing games with her conscience and was relieved that Mort had to use the bathroom. She waited until there was some sound of him going to bed. The bed squeaked and moaned until Mort was back to where he was.

She didn’t want to attempt anymore reading tonight. Julie closed the folder and returned it to its proper spot on the desk. She then made her way back to the couch, where she was finally able to get some rest.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 4 - Tracey Torrance, Julie Winters?

No one knew of what Julie did. That next morning you had a feeling that something was a missed occurred and practically flew into the Office. You checked the folder that contained the story, but there was no evidence of foul play. This made you feel better but there was that nagging feeling that something did happened.

A couple of days passed and Julie was still at the cabin. She promised you both that she’ll be quiet as a mouse so no one would know she was even here. It proved to be somewhat true.

Whenever you and Mort were hard at work, Julie would pop her head in to see if she could do some editing. She would then get the cold shoulder and leave. There were times when she will appear out of no where when you would least expect it. Other than that she kept her word.

One afternoon, you were just putting the finishing touches of editing the current chapter that you and Mort finished when Julie walked in.

”Oh (you), I didn’t know you were here,” Julie said sweetly in a singsong tone.

“Yeah I am. But what are you doing here?” you inquired.

“I thought I would repay you for your hospitality. I cleaned all the rooms but this one.”

“Sorry, Julie, but the room doesn’t need cleaning. And if it did then you wouldn’t be doing it,” you told her.

“Why?”

You sighed. “Because it’s off limits to those who don’t pay the bills for this cabin. C’mon Julie, Mort and I already established it to you. Why are you so interested?”

“You caught me. It’s just I’ve been reading Mort’s stories since forever. In fact, a friend of mine recommended Inspiration and I fell in love with it! That story was so beautiful that I cried for days! That’s how much you moved me.”

You nodded and then grinned. “I’m glad to meet a fan, but sucking up won’t get you nowhere. Julie, you’re turning this into out of proportion! You want to read our new book so bad, and then I’ll be sure you get the first copy. But when you’re in the process of making one, then you have to wait. You don’t see millions of people standing at our doorstep asking to read it.”

She glared at you. “Fine be that way. I don’t have to read your stupid story anyway!”

You continued to smile. “Doesn’t hurt me. Losing one reader isn’t so bad.”

You knew you were pushing her buttons from the intensive stare she was still giving you. Julie opened her mouth to say something, closed it, and opened it again and finally decided to close it instead. She turned on her heel and stomp out of the room leaving you roaring with laughter.

* * * *

Julie was furious. She tried to be patient and to be kind, but it could go so far. Though, she did do plenty of midnight reading so one would wonder why she was mad. She stopped and stood in the living room, blocking out your continuous laughter. She couldn’t understand why she was allowing you to piss her off. Just days (or weeks it felt) the two of you were getting along and on the wondrous road of friendship. Now it felt that the trip was at a roadblock until the construction is completed. And that usually takes months, literally.

She heard an approaching car and saw Mort pulling up. Let the show begin, she thought.

Mort was opening the back to take out the groceries when Julie came up.

“Hiya Morty,” Julie chimed.

“Hi,” Mort said. “You still here?”

“Gee thanks Mort. Is that what you tell your guests if they stay longer?” she asked sarcastically.

“Sorry. You think you might help me?” Mort asked.

“In a second. Mort, I was wondering if you ever notice why I’ve been wearing dark outfits?”

This took Mort by surprise, as the thought never crossed his mind.

“Well, I’ll tell you anyways. I started a couple of months after you started dating Amy. I just then realized what a fool I was for breaking up and cheating on you. But you can’t blame her nor me for it. It’s just. Well, Mort, to put it nicely you’re like a woman, somewhat.”

He blinked. “What in Hell does that mean?”

“You’re too good that’s all. Sure the first few dates are fun, but it wears out. You know how to appreciate and respect us. The thing is sometimes a change in pace is needed. Being wild mainly. Filling desires like no other. You never did with me and I bet Amy never got that either. I’m not saying cheating is the right thing to do, but when you get to it it’s the only way to get that craving fed. I had to go and look for it.

“I wanted that and I tried giving you hints, but I simply felt like I was dealing with my father. Never taking the hint that I wanted the expensive dress for prom or ridding this boy away from me. He was blind to the details and so were you. Now, (you) is great but how long? How long will it be when she figures out what you’re like? But then again, maybe it won’t happen.

“Why? Because you two are so much alike. Same interests, same job, blah blah blah. Sooner or later the other will get bore (maybe her or you) and life will change in a snap.” To put into emphasis, Julie snapped her fingers in Mort’s face.

“Look, I know where this is leading. So let’s not talk about my love life,” Mort growled.

Julie shrugged him off. “I’m trying to help you. I know you better than you do and maybe more than she does. You miss me. I can tell in your eyes and from your face. You want out. And to do it you need only to say a word.”

Mort listened and began to laugh. Tears streamed down his face and he wiped them away. “Good one Julie. Let me ask you one thing: have you been reading our book?”

An innocent look was plastered over the red head’s façade. “What do you mean?”

“This is the same ploy Tracey used to get Phil to leave Charity after she tricked them into staying at their house. The only thing missing is the incentive that Tracey gave him. And like the scene, it won’t work.”

“And what was the incentive?” she asked ever so pleasantly. Mort smirked at her behavior. She was playing real good with the innocence gag. Could have fooled anyone with the act. Julie slowly crept closer to Mort until their faces were merely inches apart. Her breath was hot on his countenance and Mort didn’t like what was taking place. She was crafty all right.

Her eyelashes coyly batted at him. She waited for his answer and also she could see this was getting to him. Where, she didn’t know.

Mort drew a haggard breath. This was too much. If she wanted, she could take another step to press herself against him. He didn’t what that to happen. No way sir.

“A kiss,” he said under his breath.

Julie gave him a Chester cat grin. She moved her lips closer . . . closer. Then she surprises him by moving to the side and laying them on his cheek, but close to the corner of his mouth. She withdrew and backs up until there was a friendly gap between them.

“Well I’m not like this Tracey. I’m assuming she must be the temptress and I would never ask you to leave their spouse.” She was cunning all right and down right manipulative if she played her cards right. She reached over, picked up a bag, and left Mort who was bewildered.

Neither of them notices a third set of eyes seeing the exchange taking place. You saw the kiss that Julie gave your husband and many emotions began rushing within you. You wanted so badly to go out and strangle her. No! Better yet, take a screwdriver and jammed it into the thick mass of red hair and plunge it deeply in her skull like Shooter did to Sandra.

And Mort! Poor guy didn’t how to react but freeze like a statue. You bit the inside of your cheek and tried to tell yourself it wasn’t like he had a choice. She jumped him. That’s right. She moved on him and it was such a surprise that him freezing was the natural thing to do.

It was logical. But only to a wife who just witnessed the man she married being kissed by a former love. Then there was a chance of it being a friendly move between two good pals. Even better! Mort seemed troubled by her so he wouldn’t think of it as an affair. No, not when he has a wife who loves him and is carrying his child. That’s all it was! A friendly peck on the cheek. Hi friend how’s it hanging? None of this was soothing your jealousy and anger, but it kept it down to avoid confrontation.

After all you trusted Mort. What you both went through and how together you worked it all out and a deep trust and understanding was created. He would never cheat on you. It wasn’t in his nature. No he would never. Never.

* * * *

Another day passed and no one said a word about the kiss. Julie, of course, wouldn’t say anything and Mort blocked it out. You did the same until it felt like a bad dream that seemed so realistic. That’s how you imagine it as. Just one of those “real but not true” dreams. You had plenty of them and the one that stuck out was when you were a freshman in high school.

Your Global Studies teacher wanted you to be a tutor and you turned him down. Now, he terrifies you because he was a yeller.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO? YOU’RE THE BEST I EVER HAD! WHY NOT?!” Mr. Rowzee screamed.

“I don’t have the time to do so,” you squeak. His dark face was bunched up and a vein on his forehead was popping out. It always did whenever he yelled.

“DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE GOING TO BE LIKE THOSE JACKASSES! THEY’RE FOOLISH!” He was referring to your classmates. They never did any of their work and they like to see how far they can piss off good Old Rowzee. That was everyone, with the exception of a few students including you.

Weird dream? Will when you got up you actually believed it did happened and panicked as 2nd Hr. was rolling around. To your relief, Mr. Rowzee never mentioned anything about tutoring and he didn’t appear to be angry with you. Then it dawned on you that it was all a dream. Thank God!

You were sitting at the kitchen table, leafing through a Motherhood magazine. You were aimlessly flipping the pages without reading the important articles that every new mom should read. There will be time to go back, but now your mind drifted to the novel. To be more exact, a certain character by the name of Tracey Winters.

Way before the reunion and Julie, there was a heated discussion of Tracey’s appearance. This fight went on for a few days, but that’s the way it goes when you have two writers with killer ideas collaborating on a single story.

Mort pictured Miss Winters as a child of nature, innocent, a spoiled brat nonetheless. She would be around 5’ 1” or possibly 3” with a small round, delicate porcelain face. She had a simple cut, short with light strawberry blonde hair with such incredible blue eyes. After all, if you want child of nature then the makings of a human doll is perfect. To Mort, this description was realistic and made hard to picture this Tracey as a demented person.

You, however, wanted this to be as real as possible. You wanted a person that people could relate to. Then the picture started to unfold of Tracey Winters.

Medium height, small form, and quite skinny. She has long curly raven hair and gray eyes that holds wisdom, slyness, and a tiny bit on the verge of looking for trouble. Her skin was extremely pale, but not like she was sickly. She holds an air of attractiveness and beauty for no man to resist. A person like this, people would suspect her of ungodly things. A stereotype no other and that’s how you planned it. Then once you get to know her, the reader becomes guilty for their early suspicions, which were based on appearances.

(Don’t judge a book by its cover)

The guilt comes from what you learn of her background in the little town she grew up in. The mayor of Boresville (as some call it) granted young Tracey a special acknowledgement of doing more volunteer work than the adults in O’Hare. Then when you’re starting to feel like a complete idiot, you find out Tracey hasn’t gotten over Philip Jackson.

She always held a special place in her heart for the handsome lad and finally after going out, he stole the one thing from her other than her heart. Her innocence yes sir-ree. After breaking up, Tracey could never forget her first love. No other man could bring her the satisfaction that Phil brought her and for that she decided she needed him.

Tracey is young and like most lovesick girls, she was in pieces after finding that Phil was married. She wanted to forget him but it wasn’t that easy. Any girl can tell you that. That’s when the reader starts to feel bad and hopes that Tracey will find some closure from this jerk.

Then she tricks you. Oh and how delicious it will be! The object of her desire soon becomes an obsession and before you know it you’re rooting for that jerk and is honest wife to escape the clutches of the childlike Tracey Winters!

It was right, you felt, and told Mort so. The reader starts to suspect Tracey, and then feels guilty for such harsh feelings, and then they become angry with themselves for doubting their true emotions and falling for the don’t-you-feel-sorry-for-me trick. This happens all within the first several chapters.

After the dispute a compromise was reached and Mort kept his view of Tracey and you won part of the mind feelings the reader will no doubt experience (if they have a heart). 50/50. A part of you was happy but another part was upset for not getting total claim on Tracey.

The disturbing part in your mind now as you continued not paying attention to the mag, was you perception of Tracey was now changing. Instead of the curly raven hair; you envisioned a deep red shade almost the color of blood. Her mysterious gray eyes were transforming to shifty olive or lucid almond.

In your mind’s eye, Tracey Winters is Julie Torrance. The entire time under your nose. Your rational self was saying it was unfair. You shouldn’t go and use a real person for a fictitious one. If you wanted too then try to be discreet about it, but in this case that’s not was happening.

(Tracey Torrance)

Julie’s personality totally fit in with Tracey. That part was purposely done. Tracey’s status was very similar to Julie’s and you had the reunion to thank and Julie for supplying most of the blanks. Oh yes that heavy editing was focused on Miss Winters. We have a live one here ladies and gentlemen!

(Julie Winters)

Right that second you began to hate yourself. You never were the type of person to take people you know and turn them into a villain (expect Chris) when you had it in for them. Even as a child you never did and so why now? Why her of all people?

(To make it real)

(So real that people will know her dark side)

(Real sells money)

You shook your head to rid of these thoughts. No. No you couldn’t do that to her. Or would you?

Didn’t she after all kiss your husband? Wasn’t she the one who maybe still has feelings for him? Who cares what Julie feels. She apparently doesn’t care how you might feel.

Anger seeped in you and without thinking you crumpled the page that was in your hand.

You heard some shuffling and looked up just in time as Julie came walking in. She paused and an unreadable smirk tugged at her lips.

“If you’re going to read it, then you should stop holding it like that.”

With that she left.

Maybe you might just do it.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 5 - Act of Deceit

She knew this was wrong. But something kept bugging Charity and she had to find out what was going on behind her back. She trusted Phil with her life, but sometimes that’s not always enough. She decided to have a stakeout and watch Tracey.

“Okay, we have the stakeout taking place,” said Mort. “So what should happen next? Should Charity see Tracey with Phil?”

You thought for a second. “Too soon. I think while Charity is watching her from a distance, Tracey should be doing something. Not with Phil though. Remember how Charity angered Tracey by accusing her of trying to break them up? Tracey told her it was nothing because they were through being together and wouldn’t want to break up her and Phil. So Tracey decides to get back at her. Except Charity doesn’t know what she’s doing since Tracey will be planning it. Charity is hiding outside Tracey’s bedroom and they don’t know the other is outside.”

“Bingo! Perfect. Tracey should destroy something valuable to Charity’s. There’s always her late mother’s pictures.”

“That’s nothing. Will you seek out revenge on someone by destroying some pictures?”

“I guess not. Well what?” Mort asked.

“Charity’s cat. Oliver should be Tracey’s target to get back at Charity,” you cried out.

“Good idea. But didn’t we discuss no animal killings?” pointed out Mort.

“There won’t be a actual killing, Mort, Tracey will simple fake her. She’s going to go out and buy a stuff cat, and exact duplicate of Oliver and roll it over with her car. That way everyone will think the cat was run over. And the real Oliver will be taken care of, but by someone else. Tracey will sell Oliver. After all, Tracey could never hurt a animal, she loves them!”

“Excellent! You’re on fire (you)!” Mort cheerfully yelled.

You got up from your chair and did a little bow. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Chuckling, Mort went over to your computer and began typing. The words were rushing onto the screen, and you looked over his shoulder reading them.

Satisfied with your own brilliance, you reached out for your pop and drank while watching your husband.

“Mort, I was wondering if you ever retrieved Mrs. Garvey’s ring from Bandit yet,” you teased.

“Ha ha. Laugh it up. Yeah I got the ring and it’s cleaned too. I have it on the fireplace’s mantle. I figured I’ll drop it off at her house later today.”

“Good.” There was something on your mind that you wanted to tell Mort about, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Then Julie started flashing in your mind and that began to rekindle the uncontrollable loathing.

“Mort, I’ve been thinking about Tracey lately. Let’s change her from the light strawberry blonde to a natural crimson color.”

“What?” Mort stopped typing and looked at you baffled.

“Change her hair? (You), I thought we already discussed this.”

“We did, yes, but won’t her being a red head fulfill the suspense and tension needed? The color stands for many things good or bad.”

“(You),” Mort groaned. “Do you know how much rewriting we will have to do? Couldn’t she stay the way she is?”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do the rewriting. Please? The image would be great,” you insisted.

“You’re not saying this because Julie has red hair?”

“No! Of course not! It’s just she gave me the idea of how Tracey’s hair should be that’s all.” You hoped he would buy the little lie.

Searching your face, Mort wasn’t sure whether or not to believe you. “No (you),” he said finally. “We made a deal and she’s going to remain the way she is. Besides, you’ve been working hard on this and I don’t want you to over work yourself kay? Do lie down and rest. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I don’t need rest,” you snapped. “I’m fine! And there’s nothing you can do to make me!”

~Two Minutes Later~

“Mort! Morton Rainey you let me in this instant!” you screeched.

You pounded on the screen door while Mort smiled and told you that the fresh air will do you good. He left you as you continued to scream unladylike comments.

Thankfully, Julie was out doing some errands otherwise she might be taunting you.

Sighing, you turned and went over to the memory stones you and Mort put up before he took the cabin off the market. You kneeled before them and murmured a prayer for the two. You sat, sprawling your legs out, and read the markings on them:

           Amy Rainey           Ted Milner

Let her (him) rest knowing she (he) would always be loved.

Mort still could care less for Ted, but you insisted it might help end his disturbing nightmares of them. It did and Mort accepted the line on each one.

A fly landed on Ted’s stone and you brushed it away. Leaning back on your arms, you reread the lines over again. The delicious scent of pine mixed with the sweet soundings of nature, started to relax you as you took in the glorious surroundings.

Mort knows the effect the scenery has on you, so locking you out was do to just that. Feeling the urge to walk along the lake took hold of you. Standing up you were about to let him know where you were going, but decided not to. Mort probably wouldn’t hear you, and if he noticed you weren’t here, he would know you would be by the lake. So there was no sense in telling him.

Taking the nature trail Mort made, you walked through the pebbly path. Once in a while you swat away some pesky bug that would try and make a meal out of you. Other than the little annoying critters, you like going through this way. Eyeing a large stick, you bent over and grasped it.

Holding it upright, you trudged the trail with the walking stick. There was a squirrel above, so you stopped and watched him. In his tiny paws was a single nut. It was quite large and the poor thing wasn’t sure how to began eating it. You found it amusing as he tried different ways to eat the nut. You were no squirrel; otherwise you might have helped the guy out.

Shaking your head, you were about to continue on when something prevented you. Cocking your head, you listened carefully. You could only make out a faint sound.

* * * *

Julie was pulling up to the front of the house. Her errands were mainly driving up to Beacon and trying to make amends with Chaz. No such luck. He wasn’t home. Normally, she wanted to go home, but seeing Mort all over again, delayed this from happening. She wasn’t sure if she was developing feelings for him, knowing he could never be hers. Maybe if they both were single . . .

It was a long shot, but she knew how much Mort cared for you. Perhaps she was jealous of what you two have, so that could be why she ruffles your feathers. Julie wasn’t sure why she was behaving like this.

But your story . . . It was amazing! The passion that Tracey has for Phil and the obstacles that’s in her way was mind-boggling. It could inspire one to try just that.

Stepping out, she proceeded to go inside the cabin. Upon opening the door, she heard some serious typing, and realizes you guys were still working. After fully being in, something shiny caught her attention out of the corner of her eyes. There was something on the fireplace’s mantle.

* * * *

You started out in a walk, but quicken pace as you became near the cabin. Your feet were moving on their own, and you counted how long it would take to arrive to your home. In your haste, you forgot about being locked out.

* * * *

Julie approached the mantle, and next to the glass dog, was a small ruby ring. Delicately, she picked it up and examined it in the light. It was gorgeous! Excited, she places the ring on her finger.

The color of the stone was an exact match to her hair! Did Mort-? No, he wouldn’t buy a ring for her. Most likely it was for you.

But then why would he leave it out in the open? You would have spotted it right away. She listened carefully, and heard only one set of clicking and tapping going on. Either Mort was alone or you. She was betting her money it was Mort.

“Mort?” she called, hesitates.

The noise stopped and within moments, Mort was standing on top of the staircase.

* * * *

You broke through the bushes and headed to the screen door. You didn’t notice Julie’s car in front of the house.

You had your hand on the doorknob and were about to turn it, when looking up you saw them.

~Inside Cabin~

“Julie, you’re back early,” Mort said.

She shrugged. “Well, what I was looking for wasn’t there. I saw the ring on the mantle. It’s beautiful.”

“It sure is. And it’s for one special lady.”

~Outside~

Your mouth practically dropped when you heard what Mort said. That was Mrs. Garvey’s! It doesn’t belong to anyone else. So what did he meant by special lady? He hates her with a passion.

~IC~

“Ruby, huh?” Julie asked.

He nodded as he began walking down. “Yeah, it was pretty expensive. But what can I say? It was worth it.”

A small smile formed on Julie’s face. “Where’s your wife?”

“She’s out. (You) has been working hard lately, so I thought it would be best if she stayed outside for a few minutes. She’s most likely at the lake.”

“So I take it’s not hers isn’t it?”

Mort chuckled. “Oh God no! She doesn’t like wearing rubies.”

“So it must be for someone else, then?” Julie questioned.

~Outside~

Tell her its Mrs. Garvey’s! you screamed in your head. She might think it’s for her!

You stood impatiently as you strained to listen. They were talking softly now and you could make out a few words now and then. Then both began laughing! But at what? Or whom? you feared.

Mort was dangerously close to the eccentric woman, too close for your comfort. Julie then began wildly flapping her arms about and pointed to something. Mort came closer and held her head in his hands.

Your eyes widened as a large lump was now stuck in your throat. You gasped at what continued to unfold.

He gently brushed away a few strands of hair out of her face, as he continued to cradle her head. His lips were moving but it seemed no voice was coming out.

Julie had a goofy grin plastered on her face, and was squirming around in his embrace.

You watched as the unthinkable occurred.

Julie managed to get her hand in back on his head, and guided him to her lips. Mort eagerly followed and captured them fully, claiming them as his own.

You felt like you’re going to throw up, and turned your face away from the image. You couldn’t bear to see this act of deceit taking place. Tears gathered at your eyes and began freely falling.

It was like Chris all over again. Expect this time, the pain was unbearable. Mort loved you. You both risk your lives to be with one another and you’re carrying his child for God’s sake! Doesn’t that mean anything at all?

You moved away from the door and collapsed in front of the stones, sobbing.

* * * *

A few minutes later, Mort came out and was surprised to see you back so soon from the lake.

Your back was facing him, but he could tell something was wrong from the way your head was bent over.

He slowly came over and knelt beside you.

“Honey, is something wrong?” he asked. He reached for you, but you turned away. You didn’t want him touching you.

“Honey?”

“Go away Mort,” you snapped.

He pulled back his hand. “Are you still mad about Tracey?” he sighed.

“It has nothing to do with the book!” You whipped your face to him, glaring.

“My God, were you crying?” Mort read that pregnant women experienced sudden mood swings and that anything could ignite them. Especially their temper. He began cursing himself for locking you out like that. He meant well, he didn’t think about the consequences that might have followed since you were pregnant.

“Why would you care?” you sniffled.

“You know I do.” Mort pulled you into a hug. “I love you (you). I’m sorry I locked you out earlier. I thought it would help calm you if you were outside. I forgot how it might affect you being pregnant and all.”

You rolled your eyes. Puh-leese.

He let go of you and smiled. “C’mon. I’ll fix dinner tonight.”

Mort pulled you up and walked you inside.

~That Evening~

For the rest of the day, you refused to look at Julie or Mort. You kept to yourself and no one bothered you. You overheard Mort explaining to Julie that it would be best to you let be. She didn’t ask any questions and did just that.

It was creepy that Julie didn’t bog you down with questions why you were so moody all of a sudden. Then again, maybe Julie knew you saw them kissing and thought it would be best to not say anything.

You couldn’t begin to fathom why Mort was acting like nothing ever happened. If he did something wrong he would have a guilty expression on his handsome features. That’s how you knew if he was lying or not. Mort could never get away with it. Possibly he didn’t feel guilty for kissing Julie.

When dinner was ready, you had your eyes peeled to your plate and ate very little. You still felt sick over today’s events.

“(You), are you okay?” asked a worried Mort.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. You picked your chicken with your fork.

“Are you sure? You’re awfully pale (you),” Julie comments. “Did you see a ghost or something?”

“I said I was FINE!” you barked.

Both jumped back from your outburst. The truth was you weren’t fine and there was no way you were going to start crying again.

“Sorry (you). I didn’t mean any harm,” Julie replied sheepishly.

“Shut up,” you snapped. “Like Hell you didn’t.”

“(You)!” Mort gasped, mortified.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Your fingers were beginning to quiver and you could feel your face growing red hot. You quickly left the table and headed into the living where you furiously paced back and forth, trying to settle down at least.

Mort chased after you. You were acting so strangely that he was rethinking his earlier thoughts of mood swings.

“(You), honey, tell me what’s wrong,” Mort whispered.

You stopped pacing and stood, your back facing him. You didn’t move an inch nor said you respond. Mort approached you from the front and repeated his question.

You looked up and your heart began to cry. His face was filled with tenderness and love as always, but there was a mix of concern and confusion in his lovely brown orbs. He continued to look at you and the tears began falling down your eyes once again.

“My God.” Mort swept you into a loving embrace and for a second you reveled in it. But it only lasted a second as reality set in.

You twisted about uncomfortable and managed to break from his grasp.

“Stop Mort, just please stop,” you cried.

“What? Stop what?”

“This!” You threw your arms up in frustration. Nothing apparently was sinking in. So finally the words that needed to be spoken flew out of your mouth.

“I want her out now! Not tomorrow! Not in a week! Now Mort!”

“You want Julie to leave? (You), look I know she overstayed her visit but you can’t throw a person out with nothing,” Mort explained.

“She has a boyfriend! Go back to him! Work it out! I just want her gone so we can be alone again,” you said.

“(You)-“

“NO! I WANT THAT BITCH OUT! I’M SICK AND TIRED OF HER BEING HERE!” you bellowed. “IF SHE DOESN’T LEAVE THEN I’LL CALL THE POLICE!”

“Please be reasonable,” Mort started, growing impatient.

“I DON’T CARE!” you shouted. In a much quieter tone, you hissed. “I saw her kiss you on the cheek. Don’t deny it. I tried to forget it, but I can’t! I CAN’T!”

“Ah-hm.”

You and Mort turned to see Julie holding herself in the doorway.

“I see I brought some type of conflict and I didn’t mean to,” she said, in a way that was not like her. “I did overstayed my visit and that was wrong of me. I didn’t mean to upset you (you), honestly. I’ll go if that makes a difference.”

“Yes it would make a difference,” you replied sarcastically.

Julie flinched from your remark like a wounded animal. You notice her face was growing a slight red either from embarrassment or the tears that were threatening to come. You picked up fast she could be a terrific actress when the time calls for it so you ignored her and her tears.

She began packing quietly as you and Mort watched in eerie silence. In record timing she finished and tried an attempt to smile.

“Thanks for letting me stay here. I really appreciated it.” With one glance at you both, she left.

You sighed a tremendous relief and crashed on the sofa. The problem has now left the building.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Mort said. “That is not like you. I know she was annoying, but the way you treated her was uncalled for.”

“I’m not a little girl no more Mort,” you answered. “I know what’s right and bad. But if one of us didn’t act quickly then she would have never left. Besides, I’m not the only one who treated another person unfairly.”

“I was meaning to tell you. But it’s not easy to do so. (You), you know I love you. I know that you know I would never hurt you purposely unless it was for your own good.”

Yeah, like protecting your ego, you thought bitterly.

“So why didn’t you?” you asked.

He sat down next to you and gently rubbed your arm. “Because I thought it was nothing that needed to be said. It was a harmless peck on the cheek. I admit I was shocked by the action, but that doesn’t mean I have feelings for her still. She was the one who cheated on me! I got over her just as I did with Amy. I have you and the baby in my life now. That’s the only thing that matters the most to me. I didn’t mean to make you cry if that was what troubled you this whole time.”

But what about today, Morty? If you cared so much for the baby, and me then why were you flirting with Julie? And what about that kiss? Looked pretty intense to me, you thought, but didn’t voice.

You smiled for his sake to show him you were over it. He smiled in returned and bent over and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll take care of the dishes and such and you relax.”

You nodded. He got up and before he left the room, you asked:

“Did you give Mrs. Garvey’s ring back?”

He stopped abruptly and then turned on his heel. “Of course I did sweetie. Didn’t I say I would?”

“You did,” you replied softly watching him leave the room, knowing that wasn’t the truth.

* * * *

“Okay ma’am, now that’ll be $50.”

“Here.” Julie threw down a 50-dollar bill and glanced around the motel. It wasn’t no 5-star resort, but it would do for now.

The owner handed her the key for room 13. Julie snatched it and hurried off to find her room. Looking down the line of numbers, she groaned. Her room was all the way down at the end from where the lobby stood.

She trotted over to her car and drove towards her room for the next 2 days. Being kicked out of the Rainey’s’ cabin wasn’t part of her plan nor did she expect it. Flashes of your face filled with anger and hatred only increased her curiosity of why this was so.

“I bet it’s about the story,” Julie said to herself, forgetting about the kiss. She got out and began dragging her luggage inside. Julie threw her suitcase on the bed, which happened to be the first thing when you opened the door.

“Man, you could get caught easily in bed with your lover,” she mused. She laughed to herself, not knowing the irony of her statement.

Opening the case, she rummaged through her belongings and found what she was looking for. Slipped between a couple of shirts was the folder marked “Untitled”. Julie snuck it in after Mort went outside for you. She poured the contents out and picked up the latest chapters. Lying on her bed, she started to catch up on her reading and Tracey’s devious plot.

CHAPTERS 6-10

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