While You Were Sleeping

I would like to thank two people, my Beta reader, for his continued help and for helping me so much with this story. To Randi, for her editing and total support. I can't thank either of you enough, but I wake most mornings and try.

*******

Breakfast in bed was always a must with me when Valentine's Day came around; I had sneaked out of bed early, not an easy thing to do with my wife of three years. Judith Victoria Thompson, but to me and only me, I got to call her Judy. It was our first break from the rigidness of her family, and we'd maintained it ever since.

Judy seemed to have a sixth sense when I moved too far away from her in bed, I could hear her sleeping for ages before I moved, yet as soon as I used all my "guy" ninja skills and snuck out of bed, she woke, gave me that all knowing 'I know what you're up too' look and pretended to go back to sleep.

About an hour later, I opened the bedroom door, tray in hand, Judy had already sat up, her breasts free of the bed sheet, as I placed the tray on her lap and sat next to her. "Happy Valentine's my love."

We hugged, just like we always seemed to do. Conversation between us was light and easy, since my aim was for her to simply enjoy her breakfast, even though I had made it. No Michelin Stars adorned my CV, but I loved my wife enough to find something she liked to eat and made sure I was damn good at making it.

We both sat and chatted about what we had planned for Valentine's Day; with her breakfast out of the way, we got dressed and went for a drive. We wore casual, since that's the way we were both comfortable. Even after three years of marriage, Judy was still very conservative in her dress sense. Being the only child of our church minister still left a residue of propriety, I suppose.

Our dating was "challenging," to say the least. Her father and Minister of our church had other plans for his daughter; those plans didn't include Judy marrying me. Dating her was hard enough; her father re-doubled his efforts when we sat both mother and father down to announce our engagement.

Judy's mother burst into tears and her father shot out of his seat and pointed his finger at me. "If you've got my daughter pregnant, so help me I will have you run out of town."

The chill in the air became almost Baltic when Judy simply stood, glared at her father and walked up to her bedroom, she came down ten minutes later pulling a suitcase down the last three steps. We left to the sound of both of them screaming at their daughter to come back inside, so we could all discuss this in a civilized and orderly manner.

Orderly, to her father and my minister, was that he got to stand over both of us and rant for ten minutes in a civilized manner, ending with the words. "You are not marrying him; I forbid it." I had little doubt that removal of my personal body parts also fell into the list of orderly manner if Judy did go back into the house that evening.

Still respecting her virtue, she took my bedroom and for the next three nights, I slept on the couch. I heard her cry herself to sleep at night; she was the love of my life and I told her so every day, and yet her act of showing me her love had caused her own rift in her family. She said herself that I had shown my love for her; it was the right thing to do as she returned her love for me. If that included parting with her family while they calmed down and realized that at twenty-one years of age she was entitled to a life of her own now, so be it.

Her folks admitted defeat on the fourth day of exile, and the glares of total hatred for me, since it was clearly me that had led their one and only daughter astray, were graciously ignored by me, much to the frustration of our beloved minister and her father

We had a meeting of minds, well, they had a meeting. I just sat back and watched my soon to be wife pull her mother and father apart with how embarrassed she was at their attitude.

The wedding was fun, and again, like any groom, I had input to the tune of "Yes Dear." Followed by "I do" at the end of our special day.

The minister had a field day since I was bringing so few of my side of the family, most lived hundreds of miles away. The rest we couldn't stand, so didn't invite. Her father filled the seats easily; I always thought that the church didn't take sides, that it held the middle ground and preached peace. What a wakeup call I got with that opinion on the buildup to the wedding. The minister was doing his own shoulder rubbing throughout the day.

I didn't care. I still got the girl, though.

*******

We hadn't planned to do much over the Valentine's Day; the day for both of us was supposed to be a chill out day and we made sure it was: a little shopping, a light meal and a walk around the local park. Hand in hand was a must, of course, then head back home. We both kept an eye on the time, since we had been looking forward to today and this evening in particular for some weeks.

The reason for this evening had started off as just an off-handed comment, really, I had mentioned to Judy some weeks before that the golf club was in the early stages of planning to host a Valentine's party. She thought it was a good idea, so I got a couple of tickets as part of our own celebrations. Of course, her being a woman, 'she didn't have a thing to wear,' and that's how we ended up shopping a few days later for an evening dress. We visited a few shops before she had settled on a dress.

Naturally, that day I was sent out of the shop so I didn't see her wearing it, Judy wanted that to be a surprise, so all I got to see was the dress bag it came in, instead. The day of the party, I dropped her off at the hair salon and headed for the golf club to check things out. She phoned me an hour later and I picked her up on the way home. Then someone seemed to hit the frantic button and the insane activities leading up to the evening never seemed to stop. Because of her hair I got the bath ready but she wouldn't let me have a bath with her; she said I would mess up her hair.

I smiled and left her to it. I understood, seeing her naked in the bath, I don't think I would have been able to keep my hands off of her. It was best I kept temptation away from both of us, for a while at least. That's when I took the car to get valeted and washed to within an inch of its life. When I got back, it was my turn to hit the shower, get my dinner suit on and then I waited, and waited, and waited some more. She told me off, saying I couldn't hurry perfection, so stop it.

I heard the bedroom door click open and there she stood: perfection indeed. I asked her to come to the center of the room and give me a twirl. She giggled and did so, and at that moment my heart just pounded out of my chest with pride. She never wore much in the way of make-up, never needed to with a natural beauty like hers. The dress was black and showed off her breast and hips just right; when she turned around, for a moment I lost my breath. The back of her dress came up her body, but stopped short of her shoulder blades by a good three inches, and I knew how brave she was being.

Then I looked closer and couldn't see a panty line. She didn't even have panties on, either: brave indeed for Judy. The dress finished about halfway down her calves and the heels gave her the height that meant all of the evening, we would be eye to eye.

She had stopped turning and looked at me staring at her, she giggled again and said, "What's a girl got to do to get a meal around here?"

I shook myself out of my reverie, I was at a loss to say anything, she was just... stunning and eventually found my voice for long enough to tell her so. I got up and handed her a flower that she pined to the dress, and lightly kissed her on the cheek for fear of smearing what little make up she had on. My arm came out, she held it all the way to the car, and we went to have a Valentine's evening with our friends and party a little.

When we got to the club, we were escorted to our table, her eyes were so wide with wonder at all the women in their posh dresses and men in their best suits and dinner jackets. We had been to the club on a few occasions, for golf or just dinner, but this evening was the first time they had seen her dressed for dinner. I could see other women looking at my wife in her dress and the confidence with which she owned it, a look of acceptance on their faces. She had found a dress that made her look a sexy woman, without trying to upstage any of the other ladies at the party.

The evening was a blur, the meal, a few speeches and dancing. Some of the guys asked her to dance and she would come back her face flushed. The first time I asked if she was okay. She said she was fine; it was just that one of our friends had complimented her on how she looked and her figure. I just laughed and hugged her; she asked if I was mad. I laughed again, kissed her cheek this time and said of course not, since she was going home with me and the guys were only telling her what I had said to her most of the evening, as well.

We had the last dance together, well, more a shuffle since I held her close and again whispered sweet nothings in her ear: she was beautiful. She snuggled into my shoulder and we shuffled around the floor some more, "Happy Valentine's, my love."

The kiss to my cheek came first, and then. "Happy Valentine's to you, too."

The music stopped and the leader of the band wished everyone goodnight, I held her hand and said, "It's time to go home."

Judy said nothing on the way back to our house, her hand was on my thigh and whenever the lights turned red and we stopped, I would look at her and the love that we had for each other would always smile back.

Even when we got into the house, she said nothing, I went to the bedroom and she followed, even when I undressed and got into bed, she was silent as she shed her dress, put it to one side and joined me, turning to snuggle into me. It had been a long and sometimes emotional day for her, and I knew it had taken a lot out of her.

Judy was now twenty-four and it still felt like she was finding her own feet, not only in life, but marriage. The label of being the minister's daughter was slowly peeling away, to reveal a beautiful, witty and wise woman, all wrapped up in the most beautiful of bodies. I'd stood and watched in awe at how my wife had managed to step out of the shadow that was our minister and her father, to become the women she became.

I knew it would take a day or two for her to process the evening. She had truly become accepted by the women of the golf club. It could be seen in the eyes of every woman at the club that evening; she was no longer looked on as the daughter of the local church's minister. My wife exuded confidence, and yet we both knew that deep down, a level of insecurity prevailed.

She was, after all, the daughter of the minister of our church, a man who sucked all the limelight out of any conversation he ever had with anyone. That night, she was Judith Victoria Thompson, a wife and fellow member of the Golf Club, and from the comments made to her that evening, she had found out that she was attractive to other men, and all because it was Valentine's Day, a day of love.

She snuggled deeper into me, and just before I heard her breathing change into sleep, I heard her say, "Thank you for my Valentine's."

That evening at the dance and right then, as I held her in my arms. I was the happiest man alive and I thanked her for loving me as much as I loved her.

*******

Something in my mind screamed at me to wake up. The cold form of my wife hadn't moved from the position she was in when she went to sleep. She still had that same smile of her lips, as I tried so hard to wake her up.

911 sent an ambulance as quickly as they could, but even they knew they were going through the motions. Judith Victoria Thompson was pronounced dead at our home at 04:36. An aneurism killed her and stole the woman I loved with all my heart. She had never suffered so much as a headache in all the years I had known her.

Phoning her folks near on killed me. Thank God Frank answered the phone first; I don't think I could have said anything if Joan had picked up the phone. The coroner gave the cause of death as an aneurism, said a few words of condolence and we left the courthouse. Something in my father-in-law flipped as the door to the courthouse closed, he was once again the man I knew before our wedding.

The arrogant bastard started telling me what was going to happen at the funeral and that she would be buried in the family plot.

"I'll need a copy of the poem, as well."

That stopped me in my tracks, my brow creased in confusion and dread, hoping, just hoping that my gut instinct was wrong. "What poem?"

"The one you wrote for my daughter. Since you're too distraught to read it yourself at the funeral, I will be doing the whole service myself."

What he said next tore an even bigger hole in my heart.

"I've already spoken to your mother. She's been around your place and looked for it, but she can't find it."

With those words still in my head I stared at him for a moment, perhaps just realizing that nothing had changed. The father took a reluctant step back for the sake of peace. He didn't need to do that now my wife and his daughter was dead. Briefly nodding to them both and still not admitting to anything about the poem, I walked away from them.

I loved Judy with all my heart. It was because of that love I was willing to let this pompous oaf have lead on the funeral, but even that wasn't enough.

The journey back to the house was autopilot. Even now I still don't know why I wasn't pulled over or didn't kill someone, because I sure don't remember the journey at all.

If nothing else, that meeting sure was a wakeup call for me; it showed me how much my own family would bend to that man's will, even above looking after their own children. The house phone was ringing when I opened the door.

When I answered it and my mother asked me about the location of the poem, I put the phone back on the cradle, then as an afterthought, picked it back up again and left the receiver on the side while I walked into my study. It was clear she had been in there; she hadn't even been respectful enough to clean things up and put them back when she went snooping.

I still don't know how long I was sitting at the kitchen table when my brother and his wife walked in. Tessa ran to me and hugged me, and I recognized the pain in my brother's eyes. We were twins; I was older by one minute. To us that never mattered, we were twins, we spent six and a half months holding each other's hand in our mother's womb and no one could ever get between us.

"She sent you, didn't she?"

Callum nodded his head. "Whatever this poem is bro, you can't give it to them, Momma sent me here to charm you out of it, but we both know that ain't happening."

Tessa snuggled against me while my brother and I talked, and I do mean talked. We both knew that I couldn't stay there. When Judy was alive, and although she didn't know it, she ran interference between her father and me. The day she died, not only did he resent the fact that he couldn't pin the blame for her death on my shoulders, but he wasn't there in those final moments. I was, though, and he would carry that hatred of me to his grave with him.

The longer it went on, the more bitter and twisted he was going to become. The town might be big enough to co-exist, had Frank been anything but the minister of the largest church in our town, but he had a pulpit, and every Sunday he wielded such power from it.

My brother and I knew that after the funeral, it would be time for me to move on. Judy was the only thing keeping me there, anyway. I didn't need to see a headstone to remember my wife; she lived in my thoughts, my dreams and always in my heart.

Just before they left, Callum phoned mother and told her that the poem wasn't there. He told Mommy dearest that I had assumed that Judy had it in her possession. If nothing else, it would send Frank on a wild goose chase and also spin his wheels while I got things on my end moving.

I'm a guy, and that means we travel light. The internet was used to its absolute limit that night. My brother, being my lawyer, kept getting texts from me and information faxed to his office over the next two days. Callum was busy, as well, and went head on with the insurance company, even more so when he had the coroner's report in his hand. Judy's life insurance paid out super quickly. I think it was to keep Callum off their backs. I couldn't resist the phone call to Frank, asking how much he wanted from Judy's insurance to pay for the funeral.

The ass gloated down the phone that I didn't need to pay for anything; she was being placed in the family's crypt after the service. I'm sure we both smiled, but for different reasons. Frank was the holder of the key to the family's concrete box, which meant I would have to go cap in hand and ask him when it was possible to visit my late wife. I could just imagine the excuses he was already allocating to which day, so the visits to my own wife's coffin would be frustrated at every turn.

Tessa and Callum knew from that initial evening that for the sake of my sanity, I couldn't come back. The house was no longer my home, and the town would no longer be where I lived my life. Not with Frank pulling the strings from now on.

I used the search engine on my computer to its maximum over the next few hours. I whittled down my search, mercilessly refined it some more and actually found what looked like the ideal place for me to start over. It was a little further out than I wanted to be, but two hundred and fifty miles kind of felt just right about then, with all that was going on. I told Mom I had a business meeting and left the next day.

The realtor was sitting in her car in the street when I pulled up. She handed me the house details, even though I had downloaded them the night before. We walked over every possible inch of the place; she even told me that it belonged to the town's late Sheriff. I stopped and looked at her, but she just shrugged and said that none of the family, few that they were, wanted it and it had been up for sale for six months.

Standing on the back lawn I took another good long and hard look at the place, an odd shaped building. It was two buildings, identical in every way, set side by side: a duplex. My side held the for-sale sign; the other side was empty. The lawn was mowed and the flowers kept the garden's beauty, but you could tell it wasn't lived in.

"I offered to take it on and sell it, but the family refused, said it belonged to their grandmother and they were only obeying her wishes, and those were that it was never to be sold under any circumstances."

It still didn't make any sense and I shook my head, still trying to figure so many things out and not sure if I should voice those opinions to a stranger.

"I've lived in this town all my life, Mister Thompson; grandma Gates was a formidable woman back then. What she said became rule of law with her family. Trust me, if she said it wasn't to be sold, even in death, none of her family are ever going to argue with her."

She kept looking at the vacant house, I'm not sure what she said next was meant for me to hear. "I'll keep asking, and one day I'll get to sell the place. It's written in the stars, or so I'm told."

I left the realtor lady by her car with a handshake and Callum's business card. He told me she had him on the phone before I had reached the end of the street. I would like to think that I put some of Judy's life insurance money to good use that afternoon. Three days before the funeral, my brother phoned me and congratulated me on owning my new house, and if I stopped by his office later that day, he could prove it with the documentation and keys.