The Yellow Line
By Kitrin Haas
()
About this ebook
In one instant the Cameron family's lives changed forever. Now, Alana Cameron must have the courage to put her life back together. Will she find the strength to trust and love again? A voice from the past may hold the key to her sanity.
Kitrin Haas
Kitrin Haas is a writer and self-publisher who tip-toes on the edge of the imagination in order to grab what lies within and bring it hurling to the surface of consciousness. Indie Authors will benefit greatly and can learn a thing or two by traversing this page, having a lot of fun, absorbing everything in sight and picking up her latest book. If you want to know what a goes on in the life and times of a successful Indie Author; she loves to read, write, cook and most of all be a good mother to 2 wonderful boys. When you wiggle along through her squidoo page you will find it full of games and entertainment, so don't miss out on all the fun by skipping to the end. Most of all you are required to ENJOY YOURSELF, or you must leave now. These are the rules, but I understand if you have to break them, so do as you please and I won't mind.
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Book preview
The Yellow Line - Kitrin Haas
The Yellow Line
By Kitrin Haas
Copyright 2013
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner and the publisher.
Any perceived slight of specific people or organizations, and any resemblance to characters living, dead or otherwise, real or fictitious, is purely unintentional.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
The Yellow Line
Mom, this is the last box. Are we ready to go?
In a minute, Aspen. I just want to double check that we didn’t miss anything.
Alana Cameron turned to watch her daughter struggle out the door, striving desperately to balance a set of crutches with the large box she carried. A brace on each leg was making the effort even more difficult.
Alana shook her head in a habitual gesture at her daughter’s stubbornness. She wished she didn't know where she had gotten the trait from, but was well aware that her genes ran strong in the twelve-year-old girl. Instinctively, Alana started to reach for the box but she knew that if she offered to help, Aspen would get angry with her. Lana had already exhausted herself trying to convince her daughter that it was unnecessary for her to help with the move. Resignedly, she shook her head once again and left her to struggle.
Turning away from the tableau, Alana began walking the now empty halls of the house she and Drew had sworn to grow old together in. For a moment she just stared, her moss colored eyes going blind as the memory of their first day here swamped her.
"Oh Drew, it’s perfect!" Alana rushed out of the rusted Honda and waddled toward the red and tan house, holding her very large belly and smiling widely.
"Ali, not so fast! Women in their eighth month should not run."
Andrew laughed as his wife ignored him in favor of smelling the lavender roses that flanked either side of the covered porch. He had known she would love the house the moment he had seen it. It was perfect right down to the fence that matched the tan trim of the house and the porch swing that his wife was currently playing on as if she were a child. Suddenly, Alana jumped to her feet (as much as she was able being so advanced in pregnancy), ready to look at the rest of the house. She always did everything with uncontrolled enthusiasm.
Alana slowed as she walked through the house so as not to miss a single detail. The kitchen was huge and very modern, done in shades of black and chrome. There was an island in the middle of the room where she could prepare meals, gossip with friends, and talk to Andrew and the kids about their day. Moving on she came to the first couple of doors, already imagining the children they would have. They wanted a full house.
"There are three bedrooms besides ours, Drew said coming up behind her.
Plenty of room for lots more kids after Junior gets here."
Lana couldn’t help but smile; he always seemed to know what she was thinking. Still, she couldn’t resist saying, I keep telling you we are not naming our child ‘Junior’. Besides, I am sure it’s going to be a girl.
It was a familiar argument, always laced with laughter.
Alana and Drew explored the rest of the house together. She pictured the nursery they would decorate-- no pink or blue. They hadn't wanted to find out the sex of the baby before it was born because they enjoyed arguing about it too much. Instead, they would decorate in cartoon characters. Lana adored cartoons. She felt they held all the great knowledge of the universe if only you were paying attention.
Alana was especially excited when she saw the back yard. It was huge, with a giant oak tree she imagined had been in that same spot for a hundred years. It also held an enclosed porch, ideal for sitting outside summer nights and holding barbecues. There was also a large empty spot of grass perfect for a swing set or maybe a pool once the kids got older. She laughed ecstatically and wrapped her arms around Drew, thrilled with the house and life in general.
They stopped again in the living room. Alana was picturing what it would look like when they were finished. There would be toys constantly strewn across the floor, children parked at the coffee table studying or watching TV. She wondered what color sofa they should get. Most importantly it would have to be comfortable; something for enjoying an evening on, or rough housing, maybe a nap on a Sunday afternoon. There would be a computer desk in the corner where she could do homework while she finished at the Community College, then grade homework after she had her teaching degree. Maybe they should have two so the kids could work on one or just play games, while she was occupied. She was adamant about the children not having unmonitored computers in their bedrooms. It wasn't safe with all the creeps on the Internet these days. Sadly, there were creeps everywhere these days. But together she and Drew could shield their children from whatever came their way. That's what good moms did. She prayed she would be a good mom.
In a habitual gesture, Alana twirled a strand of auburn curls around one finger and rubbed her stomach with her other hand looking uncharacteristically uncertain. Are you sure we know what we’re doing, Drew? Maybe with the baby we should stay nearer to our parents.
Andrew understood she was still worried about becoming a mom, not about the house. It’s perfect and you know it.
He said turning her toward the stone fireplace. I can picture it already: us in our eighties celebrating Christmas with all six of our children, sixteen grandchildren and three great grandchildren. We will have the fire blazing, the tree trimmed, and our oldest son playing Santa Claus since I’m too decrepit for the costume anymore.
Alana tried to look outraged when she said, Andrew Michael Cameron I am not having SIX kids.
But the truth was-- she could picture it too.
Alana shook herself, forcing the memory of that ideal day out of her mind. Running a hand through her now considerably shorter locks, she was slightly surprised to realize that she had wandered into the living room. Lost in thought, she now stood directly in front of the fireplace where she and Drew had dreamed of sharing a lifetime together. She turned, firmly suppressing her nostalgia and continued checking for anything they may have forgotten.
Coming to the first door down the hall she could hear the ghost of laughter that had forever emanated from behind the closed doors. It seemed like forever since laughter had filled this once beloved house.
Entering the room, her mind conjured the vision she would have seen upon entering the room; her sons giggling madly as they tried frantically to kill each other. Andrew Jr., all gangly legs and piercing blue eyes, would be jumping on the bed, pointing an imaginary laser as Colin, also the image of his father, evaded being shot while simultaneously wrestling Andy to his knees. If he was successful, Andy would then have to retaliate with the body slam his dad had taught him, followed of course by the dreaded noogie.
Alana still remembered Drew's response when she asked what exactly a noogie was supposed to be. His icy eyes had sparkled mischievously and his shaggy blond locks had fallen into his eyes. Like his sons, he was forever in need of a haircut. Then chortling like Machiavelli he had grabbed her in a headlock and rubbed his knuckles back and forth across her head, explaining, Some things have to be experienced to be understood.
Her eyes wanted to tear as she recalled the love that had filled this house. It had seemed to permeate the walls until this past year. Now it was almost nonexistent.
Moving down the hall towards their daughter’s room, she pictured Drew's affectionate smile as he helped her to practice ballet by doing all of the moves alongside her. She could see him demonstrating a toe step and grimacing when asked to try a split. Alana laughed as she recalled him begging her to teach Aspen how to accomplish that particular trick. Her smile faded as she thought of the brace on Aspen’s leg. She wouldn’t be dancing any time soon-- that was certain. There was a chance she never would. Still, Alana was convinced a new beginning would be just what they needed.
The decision to move had not been an easy one. It had only been thirteen years since she had vowed to live here forever. It was a far cry from sixty years. And these halls already held so many memories. She had watched all three of her children learn to walk, talk and grow in these rooms. It was so hard to turn away from that.
Running a hand along the wall that until yesterday had held dozens of framed photographs, Alana came to the door at the end of the hallway and stopped once again. Without even opening the doors, she could feel the emotions coming from that room. This was the room she and Drew had shared through every fight, every sickness, every love, and every joy of their marriage.
She rested her forehead against the door and took a deep breath. It was difficult for her to see the room so empty. She forced herself to go inside knowing she had to make sure nothing was left behind.
As she entered, her eyes were drawn immediately to the closet door where Drew had marked the kids’ growth. All vestige of a smile left her face and her eyes began to fill as her heart wrenched, twisted and broke just a little more. She rubbed her finger lightly along the final mark on the wall.
Andrew Jr. 5 ft. 3 in.
Andy had been so proud of those extra inches. At eleven he was almost as tall as his mother, who topped out at 5’4’. He had flexed his little muscles, and strutted around the room, stating that he was going to be as big and strong as his dad someday. Obviously no one was bigger or stronger than his dad. A tear escaped as she recalled that little Andrew would never find out if he could be bigger than his dad. Andrew would never even reach 5 ft. 4 in.
Abruptly the happy memories disappeared and all she was left with were the last few months. Slowly she began to slide down the wall to the floor. Her legs just couldn’t bear up to the onslaught of pain that hit her. This was no longer just her heart but her whole body hurt and with such fierceness that she was certain no one should be expected to live in the midst of it. She didn’t even want to try. If she could just stay right here, and wither to nothing, then maybe she could finally find a little peace.
Except, her eyes moved to something red over in the corner of the closet, something that had been missed in the packing. It was one of Aspen’s shirts, nothing but a simple sweater, but it made her remember Aspen. She was the reason Alana couldn’t give up. For her, Alana needed