Forever More
Part 1 - Hope
Chapter One
Rebecca was up very early that Friday morning. Rousting her two small sons, Ethan, eight-years-old and Kyle, six, from their beds was not an easy task, but Rebecca had no time for arguments. She was outside loading the panels for her display at the craft fair into the back of her pick-up truck when her friend, Barb, pulled into the driveway of the small farmhouse where Rebecca lived with her children.
In a moment of self assuredness Rebecca had sent in registration to participate in the two-day craft fair that accompanied a very large summer festival held each June in the city of St. Joseph and along the bluff that overlooked Lake Michigan not far from the small farming community that she called home.
But as her friend helped her carry out the eleven oil paintings that she had completed that last winter and spring Rebecca wondered if any of this was worth her effort. Barb was very positive and had been the one to coerce her into participating in the first place.
When at last all of her wares were loaded both women piled into their vehicles. Rebecca and her two children, Barb with her one little boy.
As if she had not had enough trepidation already when they arrived at the location of the fair she felt humbly out of her league. The park with its huge old trees was bustling with other crafters busily setting up their tents and displays along the sidewalk that ran the full length of the bluff, nearly five city blocks.
These people are all professions, she thought to herself as she and Barb continued to go about the task of building the display unit that her paintings on which her paintings would hang.
Why was she doing this anyway? The money? Satisfaction from the talent that God had given her? The money?
She really didn't expect to make that much, although visions of big sales loomed in the back of her mind. Painting was just been a hobby that she loved. She could however, use any extra cash that fell her way.
Rebecca thought about what she might do with the money, if indeed she made any profit after expenses. Though the start of the fall school year was far off she knew that she should save for clothes for her sons. Money always seemed to run tight that time of year.
She had a full time job, but with that and the social security that the boys received every month because of her late husband, sometimes it just didn't cover everything. Her mother-in-law had been very gracious these last two and a half years since her son was killed and she had helped Rebecca on more than one occasion.
The car accident that claimed his life left Rebecca alone at age thirty to raise their two small boys on her own. The small farm where they had lived since they were married, complete with horses, was paid for after his death but the monthly household expenses sometimes put a strain on Rebecca's finances and in turn her mental well-being.
Sometimes she just wanted to sit and cry and curse her God who took Jack from her and would allow such a terrible thing to happen to them.
Jack Sager had been Rebecca's high school love. He was three years her senior. At the time she first met him he was pursuing a friend of hers. It didn't take Rebecca long to get his attentions shifted in her direction. But it wasn't until after his return home from college that they became serious. They were married two years after Rebecca graduated from high school.
They enjoyed a happy quiet life while Jack not only worked their small parcel of land but also in a factory in South Bend, Indiana not far from the town of Harbor Springs, Michigan where they not only lived but had grown up and graduated high school.
Rebecca kept herself busy helping with the farm and the horses and after her children were born, caring for them.
After Jack's death she found that she had to go to work which meant leaving her children in the care of a neighbor or her mother-in-law or Jack's sister, Ellen.
Rebecca and Barb were nearly ready for business when a man with an official looking name badge introduced himself.
"Rebecca Sager," Rebecca announced in kind as she put out her hand.
"Just want to give you a copy of the rules and regulations, Good luck and be prepared for the big rush tomorrow during the concert. The entertainment always brings out a crowd."
He was right. The two-day event attracted a larger crowd on Saturday with the appearances of various musical artists. This year the entertainment was to be provided by a band that had gained national recognition during Rebecca's high school years.
The band was to perform the following afternoon from a boat anchored in the channel that connected the St. Joseph River to Lake Michigan.
Rebecca had wanted to see the band perform herself since they were a favorite of hers in her youth, but with having to watch the booth she knew that was impossible.
The first day of the sale went slow but Rebecca did sell two paintings. However, most of the time she and Barb spent chasing after three small boys, forcing them to come to the decision that the next day they would leave the children elsewhere.
The next morning Rebecca and Barb were right back tending their booth. Barb had not only convinced her friend to take a chance at the venture but also had agreed to help her out that weekend.
The two women also took turns watching the booth alone so that the other could walk about and shop the other crafter's tables.
The crowd had indeed been getting larger as the afternoon wore on. Nearing three-thirty, Barb had taken off to purchase something that she had her eye on the day before. The concert was due to begin below the hill from where they were and the crowd seemed to be shifting in that direction.
Rebecca had wandered out of her own booth and was talking to a woman at the next table when she realized that she had customers. A tall, very thin woman with long, thick dark hair stood near the edge of the tent looking a bit annoyed. Rebecca made a hasty judgement deciding that she did not like the woman very much. She was too perfect. Not only was her body intimidating to the average woman, like Rebecca, but her deep tan only enhanced that fact. She was wearing a tiny cropped top that showed off her ample breasts very clearly. No doubt a look she was going for, Rebecca thought to herself. Her tiny waist and hips were covered only by a pair of satin short-shorts that sported her long sleek dark legs.
Rebecca swallowed and slid passed her to the man further inside her tent. He looked up as she walked around the table where the remains of her lunch still sat from earlier that day.
"Did you do all of these?" he asked as Rebecca tried to wad up the hamburger wrappers and shove them under the table.
Rebecca nodded.
"They're very good. Do you have horses?" His voice was friendly and interested and Rebecca could see a hint of glimmer in his eyes when he removed his sunglasses to take a closer look at the paintings.
Nearly every painting that Rebecca had done for the fair was of her horses. They were, in fact, her favorite subjects. She had been drawing and painting horses since she was a little girl.
"Oh, yes I have three," she answered and then moved from behind the table to point out a particular painting. "These are mine. That's Koda and Chance and Greystoke," she announced quite proudly.
The man told her that they were very beautiful horses. Rebecca thanked him. The woman who was with him glanced down at her watch and then peered over the top of her sunglasses, "Scott, we really do have to be going!"
Then man then turned and joined her as they took off in the direction of the concert. Rebecca stood and watched as they disappeared into the sea of spectators making their way to the entertainment area below.
What was it about him that made her stand there and stare? He was not very tall, five foot six, Rebecca supposed, maybe three or four inches taller than herself, and he was thin. He had long bouncy blond hair that rested on his shoulders and cut in such a way that it feathered around his temples and the sides of his face. He was fair complexioned and had the most beautiful blue eyes. Rebecca had made that observation. He was tanned too but not nearly as dark as the woman who accompanied him. He was wearing cut offs and a T-shirt that read "Ozzy" on the front and something else on the back that she was pretty sure she didn't need to know anyway. He was soft spoken, and friendly and as he turned to leave the booth Rebecca had detected two deep dimples on either side of his slender cheeks.
Barb had returned to the booth and the crowd dwindled while the concert was in full swing. They could hear the band very clearly but not see from their spot on top of the bluff.
Around six p.m. Rebecca had started to dismantle the displays. The craft fair was now over and everyone about her was busy with the same task. Barb had already taken some things back to the truck. There were still shoppers milling about.
Rebecca turned around as she heard a voice behind her ask if it was too late to purchase a painting. She was startled when she recognized the same man who had complimented her on her painting earlier that afternoon.
"No, not at all," she fumbled her words.
He pointed out the one that he was interested in. It happened to be a favorite of Rebecca's, her three horses in the pasture at sunset.
He told her that he also had horses and he loved to ride whenever he got the chance.
"How much?" he asked as he helped Rebecca unhook the painting from its spot.
"Ninety-five dollars," she answered sounding more like a question than statement, then wanted to kick herself for sounding that way.
He pulled a wallet out of his hip pocket and pulled out five twenty dollar bills and handed them to Rebecca. She even fumbled opening the tin that held her cash supply. She felt very self conscious as she handed out a five dollar bill for him to take in change. She knew who he was.
She wanted to say something but bit her tongue. But it has to be him. Oh, how stupid she would feel if it wasn't. But it has to be.
Still she resisted the urge and thanked him again for purchasing the painting. He told her that he was very pleased with it. She had handed him a business card that she had made up for the occasion when she gave back his change. He looked down at it, read it and thanked her by name.
He had already started to walk away when she was struck by impulse, "Are you by any chance Scott Taylor?"
He nodded and gave her a simple, "Yeah." He didn't even look annoyed that she had asked.
Rebecca stood there with a very big smile across her face.
"Wow!" she said aloud. She had heard that he lived in the area, bought a farm or something. And he bought one of your paintings! Wow! Then Rebecca wondered where his companion was. Wherever she was it was fine with her. The woman had been intimidating and she didn't much like her anyway. Rebecca wondered how a nice guy like him ended up with a bitch like her.
Barb came back and Rebecca replayed the scene for her.
"Scott Taylor was here?" Barb asked again to clarify her friends obvious delusional state.
Rebecca nodded
"Scott Taylor was here and he bought one of your paintings?" Barb was still not believing. Rebecca went so far as to take the five bills out of her tin box and hold them up. "See, these were his!"
Suddenly a thin wave of embarrassment washed over Rebecca as she felt like, and assumed, that she must sound like a thirteen-year-old love-sick school girl.
"I go away and Scott Taylor shows up? Figures." Barb was not amused.
Back home that evening Rebecca pulled down a record album from the bookcase and showed it to her boys. Pointing out from five figures the handsome man with long blond hair, blue eyes and dimples Rebecca told them his name and that she had met him that day. They were only mildly impressed.
Later when she had gotten the two boys down for the night she went back into the living room and put the record on the turntable. Rebecca laid back on the sofa as the rock music filled the room. The album cover read Paradox' Greatest Hits. She sat holding the cover. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off that smile and those dimples.
