Phantom Love

I think I have decided on a title, Phantom Love, at least until the story evolves and I feel a need to change the name. All creative writings are covered by the Creative Commons Copyright-Some rights Reserved.

Chapter 2
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
- a headstone in Ireland

Jonathan rolled over and snuggled with his true love, gently caressing her shoulder as she lay there still sleeping peacefully. What a lucky man he was he thought to himself. When the clock alarm sounded, he quickly slapped it off, then kissed his bride-to-be softly on her exposed shoulder before gently rolling out of bed careful to not wake his Sleeping Beauty. Another day, another slaving, he thought. It was all worth it in the end. He was having to work three jobs to pay off the bills that were cropping up from the wedding planning and all the extras that were involved. He had saved up quite a bit that he had already spend on the rings and her wedding dress. She didn’t want anything fancy or so expensive you would have to sell your nonessential organs to pay for it. For that, he was eternally grateful. He was determined that this wedding would not haunt them in the form of overdue bills for the first year of their marriage. They say the first year is the hardest because of the amount of bills just from the wedding. He had planned accordingly with the help of a financial advisor so they would be able to enjoy life and the honeymoon instead of jumping right into a never-ending debt.
Oh he was looking forward to the honeymoon. He had reservations already paid for and a stack of funds ready for disposal. They would have the times of their lives with no worries about finances. He stopped combing his hair and starred into the mirror. You smart man you. He complimented himself. He nodded to himself and said to the mirror ‘You did good.’ Glowing with pride and satisfaction he finished getting ready for work.
This morning he was heading off to the factory job that was about a twenty-minute drive from their cottage, when there was no traffic. There would be traffic, and lots of it but the drive went quick when he could listen to his favorite morning show on the radio. This morning they were talking about when was it inappropriate time for a woman, or man, to laugh. One example they had given was when you are at a funeral. You don't just start laughing at the wake because the wake is supposed to be a somber occasion of remembrance. Well it could be that depressing depending on what or how you believe, but not always. Some religions call for a time of celebration, as it is a time of transition from the physical to the spirit world. It is a joyous time of remembering the good times; not lingering on the idea that the person’s physical form was no longer there. That was what he wanted. Note to self: be sure to get that Will finished when he went to his office job this evening.
The duo team on the radio were now arguing over the point of having fun at funerals or being a serious "poopy-butt", as the male star of the show said, or being joyous. The first caller was a hoot! An older woman told a story of how her husband had been in a nursing home and on the day he passed away, he passed away while on the toilet.
"I was with him on that day he died..." The caller explained. "He woke up and he said he had to use the restroom really bad. So I paged a nurse to help him to the nearest restroom in the facility. He started to complain and get really fidgety and no nurse was coming. So I had to help him out of his bed and drag him on my own to the bathroom"
"Oh geez, where the nurses on a smoke break!?" One of the radio personalities squawked bewildered.
"I have no idea but my husband ended up wetting himself before I could drag his butt to the bathroom, and when we did and he was finally able to sit on the toilet, he looked up at me and said 'I really needed to piddle really bad...' and then he passed on right there.'
"What?! He passed away on the crapper-pot?!"
"Oh yes he did. I could not stop laughing over his last comment! He was always such a clown! Even at the wake I could not help but laugh over it some more!"

Wow, what a way to go Jonathan chuckled. After a few crud jokes and whatnots from the radio personality team they took another caller.
"When I had to go to my fathers wake, I brought my then 3 year old daughter with me. She kept going up to Grandpas casket asking Grandpa to get up, it was time to get up. She didn't understand that he couldn't and that he really wasn't there. Then she saw this man on the other side of the room and she kept following him, peeking around the tables and watching him. When I went to check up on her she said 'Santa, Mom. That's Santa."
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh how cute!"
"Yah, she was cute that day. I could not help but laugh!" The mother chuckled.
"Wow forget about grandpa, Santa is here!" The male personality said goofingly.
"Oh children say the darnedest things. They are so innocent. They don't know any better but it was a great way to lighten the mood on such a somber day. It's been one of those stories that I cannot help but tell people I meet."

Jonathan chuckled as well. How cute children could be. That was something he did not want right away in his life, he did not want children until they were at least ten years older. He wanted a chance to enjoy the married life with his true love before the stressful intricacies of having children came first.
His cell phone rang. It was his Probate Attorney.
"Hey Jonathan! How are things with you and the soon-to-be wife of yours?"
"We're swell! I'm on my way to the factory job right now. What do you need?"
"Well I though I would call and touch base on how your Will is coming along and if you had anything to add before I finalized it."
"Wow, that is just funny you asked because I just thought of something I wanted to add that I heard on the radio this morning" He switched the phone to his other hand and turned down the radio.
"Really, what is that?"
"If I were to die before my time, I do not want a funeral wake, I want a party." Silence caught the air on the other end. "Chuck, you there? Did my cell phone cut out again?"
"No, I'm here and just a little befuddled. Why a party?" He explained about the conversation on the radio show and how he had felt.
"Oh yah that's a good station. I like their morning shows too. Okay so a party instead of a somber wake. What kind of party then?"
"Techno and Dance all the way baby! Be sure to be there if you can to relay that I want a celebration of my life, not of my death. Everyone should party instead of pitying the dead at a funeral!"
"Ahhh, I should have known it would be Techno." He chuckled. "I assume you would want all your favorite songs played?"
"Of course. See if you can get the famous Alex Hall to make a personal appearance."
"CH-yah, okay...I will check into that. What if he is not available?"
"Oh then just play some of the favorites that I like."
"Sounds like a party."
"I hope it will be. I can trust you to make sure it will be a smashing party?"
"Of course Jonathan! So let me make these changes and then we can make time to look it over and finalize it."
"I dunno when I am gonna have time for that. I've got a split shift today and I will not feel like looking over a Will when I am done today." He sighed wearily. "It's gonna be worth it-it's gonna be worth it...right?"
"You keep telling yourself that and you eventually believe it." He snorted.
"Oh come on now just because you're marriage ended kinda abruptly doesn't mean it happens to every man."
"Well okay, more than kinda...kinda a lot." They both had a good laugh out of that one. Chuck's marriage didn't last long as he had found that his wife was a gold digger and had tried to murder him before they were married even a week. A regular Black Widow she was. Even had an extensive police record that he was unaware of and she wasn't gonna talk about it. Lesson learned the hard way...background check! Especially when you have some money to burn. Unfortunately he had to kill her in self-defense when she came after him with an oversized kitchen knife, her eyes mad with insanity. He had ran to their bedroom in their large uptown condo after failing to talk her down, or talk some sense into her, and shot her with the registered handgun he stored between the mattresses. Because of that experience he had decided to become a Probate Attorney in order to help others create Will documents. It had become a passion of his and it was good money.
"Well okay I guess we can review it now if you have the time. That would save us both a trip and some gas money."
"Sounds like a plan Chuck! Talk away!" Chuck reviewed both his living will and his last testaments will.
"Cut and print! Sounds good." The traffic ahead of Jonathan began to show signs of slowing. Another traffic jam. He expected no less. His day would not be complete without having to sit in crawling traffic for an hour.
"Alrighty then. I'll get this finalized and then all you will have to do is make time to sign it. Or I can come to your workplace this after noon. Would that work?" Silence answered his question.
"Oh yah I am here, paying attention to the traffic, Hooray for traffic."
"Tell me about it. I was stuck in it this morning myself for almost an hour and ...." The sound of screeching tires, crunching metal and the sound of flying pieces of glass interrupted him. The sounds lasted for what seemed to stretch into minutes instead of seconds.
"Oh no..." He whispered. "John?" His question was answered by an odd thud sound, almost as if the phone had been dropped. "John! John can you hear me?!" Silence. "Oh dear god, John!" A busy signal answered him. The call had been terminated.

Are you on the edge of your seats yet?

Until next time...

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