Forms of Love Read online

  Dan heard the words but they made no sense. He couldn’t have heard right. It couldn’t be. No! Ed didn’t know what he was saying. His mind’s eye formed a picture of his beautiful wife—just as alive and vibrant as sunshine. The woman he loved with all his heart. Nothing could happen to her. He wouldn’t allow it.

  “What are you talking about, Ed?” he finally managed.

  The older man’s voice cracked two or three times before he finally pushed the story out. “Kendra went to a twilight movie and when she came out, she...she got hit by a car. She just stepped off the curb, Dan. Witnesses said she didn’t look left or right. She...she just stepped into this car’s path and died five minutes later.” The older man began crying again.

  Dan stared at the bare wall, seeing instead a beautiful, laughing Kendra. “When?”

  “Six days ago. She’d just got word that you’d be back soon and we were all so happy. The psychiatrist was sure Kendra had finally made a major breakthrough. She was looking forward to seeing you again. She even talked of trying to make amends, to see if there was a chance your marriage could work.” He took a shaky breath. “She was so hopeful. We were positive this was the end of the nightmare....”

  Dan’s stomach felt like a giant fist was squeezing it. He swallowed, then swallowed again to ease the tightness. It didn’t help. Kendra. His Kendra. Gone. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be!

  “Ed,” he began, but his thoughts refused to turn into words that would convey his emotions.

  “I know,” the older man choked. “There’s nothing you can say. It’s done. I’m sorry, Dan. We worked so hard for so long to make everything right, but God wouldn’t let us. We were almost there—” His voice broke completely. “My baby. My only baby.”

  Dan’s throat closed. He swallowed, this time tasting bile that was rising to close off his windpipe. “I’ll call you later.” He slammed the phone back on the hook and ran for the kitchen to throw up in the sink. He wished he could just as easily purge the despair, the unbelievable ache that spread through his body.

  His hand clenched against his heaving stomach. It hurt. Damn! It hurt so damn bad he wanted to break his ribs, pull out his heart and throw it away.

  Then the tears began in unstoppable torrents. And with the tears came sobs that tore his soul apart. In the dimly lit apartment, he sat on the kitchen floor and held his buzzing head. In the past two years all he’d asked for was one more chance to give Kendra whatever it was she needed to want to stay with him. After all, they’d lost so much when they’d lost their baby. How much misery and pain could two people survive? Just one more chance. In a crazy world filled with chaos, he hadn’t thought it too much to ask. He’d been wrong.

  * * *

  “STEADY, BOY, YOU’RE doing fine.” Kendra soothed the young airman leaning against her in the curved booth of the dimly lit bar.

  “You’re so b‘u’iful,” he muttered against the soft skin of her breast above the scooped neckline of a cotton T-shirt. She chuckled because she was supposed to.

  “So are you,” she said dryly. “Beautiful and drunk.”

  “I love you.” Once more his lips tried to caress the soft flesh above her breast. Instead, his sloppy mouth smeared her with spittle and she shuddered.

  “I don’t think either one of us knows what that emotion is really like, bucko.”

  “It’s how I feel, you,” the drunk hiccuped, sliding his hand up her thigh until her hand held his in place.

  She edged away, letting his head drop to the booth seat. “Sorry, Larry, but my time is up. It’s time to go home now.”

  He tried to sit up but failed miserably and leaned on one arm instead. “Home?” His bleary eyes tried to focus on her face. “Where’s home?”

  Reaching for her large canvas purse where her specimens were, she smiled and slid out of the booth. “Mine’s a lot farther away than yours.”

  “Don’t go,” he said in a last-ditch attempt to keep her with him.

  “I have to, and thank you for your kind donation.” There was that odd sense of humor again. It slipped out occasionally. She wasn’t sure if it was hers, or the original Kendra’s.

  She left the bar and stepped out into the darkened parking lot. Taking a deep breath, she stared at the heavens, wishing the answers she sought would be written up there. There were too many city lights to see the stars clearly, and she had to guess the exact direction of her planet.

  Something else was different with her. Kendra had met one of her kind yesterday, who was failing her own mission. Instead of feeling compassion, Kendra had felt smug. Her fellow team member hadn’t found an opportunity to collect a single DNA sample. Whereas Kendra had found four strong, handsome males and had gotten samples from all of them.

  Tonight she had shuddered when the airman’s spittle touched her skin. That was an emotion, a human response. Was she adapting to the human condition more quickly than she should? Perhaps her body was too tired to help her right now. She would spend one more night in the hotel room she’d rented, then hitchhike back to the vastness of west Texas—and the mother ship cradled inside a mountain—tomorrow afternoon.

  Having promised the dead Kendra that she would tell her man how she felt about him—that elusive emotion called love—the new Kendra set out to find him. She located the woman’s parents—and had malked them—mind-talking, earthlings would call it. According to Ed’s understanding, Dan should be in San Antonio by now. If she didn’t contact him by tomorrow, she’d be forced to leave without fulfilling her promise.

  Surprisingly, the promise was becoming more and more important to her the longer she spent on Earth. One way or another, she’d find Dan Lovejoy.

  He’d be in for quite a shock, that odd sense of humor suggested once again.

  * * *

  AS THE MORNING SUN came over the tall pines of northwest Houston, Dan finished loading his black Jeep four-wheel drive with deliberate efficiency. No matter how busy he tried to keep himself, however, memories of Kendra intruded. More so as he jumped in the Jeep and headed west toward San Antonio.

  Toward Kendra’s grave.

  Thoughts of her carried him over the miles, eating time so easily they made the long trip seem like the passage of a few minutes.

  Kendra. Kendra. Kendra.

  His mind returned to the first time he saw her....

  Her hair seemed black as night until she moved into the sun; then it glinted like coal shot through with veins of copper. She stood at the edge of a crowd in the junior high schoolyard, where he was trying to punch out a guy who’d teased him about his weight. He looked up and saw her. Her head was tilted inquisitively to the side as she silently watched the adolescent display. His opponent took advantage of Dan’s distraction, flattening him with a solid fist to the stomach.

  Because of that first glimpse of Kendra’s dark-haired beauty, Dan had gone on a diet the very same day, never to be heavy again.

  Kendra... When he took her to the junior-senior prom, he could hardly keep his hands off her. In his eyes, she was the loveliest girl there. Draped in a long gown of off-white and pale peach, she looked like an angel. That night, before taking her home, he parked the car on a remote road. She was patient with his fumbling beneath her dress. For the first time since they’d been dating, he tasted the sweetness of her breast and thought he’d gone to heaven.

  Kendra...after their high school graduation when he drove her to a motel room and impatiently made love to her for the very first time. She had quietly cried—and so had he. But he had felt like a man at last.

  Kendra...visiting his senior college apartment in Austin and tearfully telling him of her pregnancy. They ran to a justice of the peace, then, and a month later had a formal wedding. It was filled with parents’ friends as both sides of the family celebrated the “youngsters” finally getting together. Two weeks later, Kendra lost the baby. It took several years for her to become pregnant again.

  Kendra...three years ago, as she sat in the new rocker
and stared out the nursery window for hours at a time after losing four-month-old Hannah. The first night, they had cried together. Hannah had been the most beautiful black-haired, blue-eyed baby. They loved and missed her so much....

  San Antonio loomed on the horizon and Dan forced himself to cut off the memories. A quick stop-off at Ed and Margaret’s, a visit to Kendra’s grave, then he’d head for west Texas and try to find some peace.

  He turned onto Loop 410 south. Without realizing it, he lifted his foot off the gas. Kendra lived just minutes from here. No, not Kendra. Kendra’s parents.

  He forced himself to push down on the pedal. He had to get this over with.

  He had to...

  * * *

  IT WAS NOON BEFORE Kendra checked out of her motel room and walked down the sidewalk, her bag swinging from her shoulder. Her step was jaunty. Her eyes took in the vivid and colorful wonders of the human world. In two or three days she’d be on the mother ship and on her way home. All this fabulous, if too exciting, color-brightness would be gone.

  A feeling resembling regret flowed through her, but she reined it in. This was not her planet—not the world for her. Peace was at home, not here, where barbaric customs practiced by a barbaric race abounded.

  The highway to Del Rio was six miles away, but she decided to walk because she loved this newfound strength in her legs and torso. It felt so free to stride on legs that were long and strong! At home, we—she stopped and substituted the human language equivalent—she would glide slowly and be more tied to the ground’s much stronger gravity.

  Once more she tried to reach a communicator or Guardian with whom she could share information. She concentrated on sending out her message and once again, there was no answer. It was odd, but she wasn’t going to worry, yet; it could be the fault of not having absorbed all of Kendra’s memories. She sighed into the dark night air. Her people didn’t know as much about Earth as they thought they did.

  When she’d landed, she believed that her teachers and the training tapes had supplied all the information she would need. That hadn’t been the case. Once here, she’d been working with a combination of her own common sense and Kendra’s knowledge, because the methods she was taught at home weren’t always practical in the “field.”

  * * *

  DAN STOOD AT Kendra’s grave, still hardly believing it was really hers. The grass had been dug up as if a giant bird had scarred the earth with its talons, exposing the rich, damp darkness of newly turned loam.

  Next to Kendra’s marker was a marble statue of an angel with outspread wings guarding a lush, green carpet of freshly cut grass. Encased in glass at the base of the monument was a picture of Hannah just one day before her fourth month birthday. She looked smiling and happy and ready to return all the love her parents could give her. It was a heartbreakingly beautiful picture, and the main reason that Dan didn’t come to the grave site too often.

  It hurt so damn much to lose someone you love once.

  It was killing him to lose someone he loved twice.

  As hard as he tried to stop them, the tears streamed down his face. Sobs tore at his throat as he told the two females he loved just how much he missed them. How dare they leave him here to fend for himself, alone?

  If only he’d had one more chance to prove how much he loved them. Just one...

  Dan left Kendra’s grave with reluctant steps. At last he accepted that Kendra was really dead and this was not some cruel, bizarre joke.

  This was no dream. This was a waking, breathing, living nightmare.

  With his mind on automatic pilot, he headed toward Highway 90 and the small border town of Del Rio. His hands clenched the steering wheel tightly until aching biceps reminded him to ease his grip. His brain seemed to be wrapped in cotton, buffering the shock of the past two days. Knowing that the pain would soon return, he gratefully accepted and embraced the momentary numbing of his emotions.

  Glancing at the gas gauge, he focused on the mundane. Gas and an oil check were in order since he only had a quarter of a tank left. It might as well get done now, so he wouldn’t have to stop once he hit the main stretch of highway. He pulled into the right-hand lane and watched for the nearest exit.

  Then it happened. His mind froze for just a moment; next he felt as if someone had nudged him. He saw an image of Kendra’s lifeless body lying in the road. He blinked once. Then twice. His foot slammed on the brake, almost pulling the squealing Jeep into the flow of heavy traffic again.

  Blinking again, he noticed a tall, slim woman stood by the side of the road. Her long dark hair was the color of coal with jets of copper glinting in the late-afternoon sun. The smile tilting her mouth upward was as familiar to him as his own face in the mirror. The neatly printed cardboard sign in her hand proclaimed she was heading toward Big Bend country in west Texas. For just a fleeting moment, he saw the words Hi, Dan written there. Impossible!

  And he couldn’t refuse to pick her up. A small back section of his mind screamed at him to pass her by, leave her alone. But he stopped the Jeep anyway.

  A wonderful, novocaine-type euphoria seeped through every pore. He was soaked with wonderful, soothing feelings and he couldn’t resist falling under their spell. He wanted to cry with the poignant sweetness of it.

  He flipped the door lock and pushed the door open. “Get in.”

  Kendra! Her face. Her smile. But most of all, eyes that held all of Kendra’s secrets. He knew, he just knew. She was two feet away from his truck, her head tilted in that disarmingly funny way. She smiled at him as if she knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking.

  He was going insane.

  His heart was thumping so fast, he hurt from the effort of breathing. His breath was ragged. His ears buzzed.

  She stood very still. “Are you sure you’re prepared for this?”

  “Get in,” he repeated. It was all he could say.

  He watched her grasp the side of the door and swing into the passenger seat. Every movement, every nuance was Kendra’s. Not so much in appearance, although they were similar, but in essence. He didn’t know how he knew, he just knew.

  It was Kendra!

  She sighed, leaning back against the upholstery. “It’s hotter than Hades out there right now.” Her eyes closed for a moment, then opened and looked back at him. Deep, liquid, familiar brown eyes that were calm and reassuring. “You’re Dan.”

  He nodded, unable to piece together a single sentence. The novocaine was wearing off and he was filling with chaotic thoughts. Tears glazed his eyes. This had to be a dream, a figment of his imagination.

  “Who are you?” he finally managed.

  “Kendra.”

  “Kendra’s dead. Who are you?”

  “Oh, dear.” She sighed. “I forgot I’ve got to explain all this before we can get on with the business at hand.”

  “Who are you?” he repeated.

  “Drive.” She waved toward the highway. “We can talk while you get us where we’re going.” She tilted her head again, her big brown eyes regarding him steadily. “Isn’t it lucky that you’re on your way to Big Bend, too? I don’t have to waste extra time tracking you down.”

  He nodded again, automatically putting the Jeep in gear. Something told him to wait and he’d get the answers he demanded. Every two seconds he looked in her direction, fully expecting her to have disappeared.

  “Who are you?” he repeated. His voice was a belligerent croak. He didn’t care.

  “Would you believe I’m Kendra’s twin?”

  “No.”

  “What would you believe?”

  “That I miss Kendra so much, I’m hallucinating.” What the hell was he doing arguing with his own imagination? This couldn’t really be happening. It couldn’t! Ed and Margaret had identified Kendra’s body. But he so badly wanted to see Kendra again, to explain his feelings, to hear her tell him how and why their once intimate and cozy world had fallen apart, that...

  She turned in the seat, crooking one leg up and
placing an arm over the back of the seat. “Let’s just say that I’m a figment of your imagination, Dan. I can listen to your thoughts and give you the answers you need. When we reach Big Bend, I’ll disappear. Then you’ll resume your life, but I’ll erase all memory of me from your mind. You’ll remember Kendra, but not me.”

  Her voice was barely a whisper but he had no trouble hearing her. He let his breath out in relief. He wasn’t crazy; he just needed to control his screwed-up emotions, pick up the pieces of his life and go on. This must be his way of coping. Unless...

  “Kendra’s dead, Dan. She died just as Ed and Margaret said she did. She was hit by a car outside a movie theater.”

  “How? Why?” His eyes flickered to her, then back to the road again.

  “Because she wasn’t looking where she was going. She was thinking of other things. All of them had to do with you.”

  “How do you know?” His hand hit the steering wheel. “Shit! I’m crazy as a loon! You’re not even here! This is all some goddamn reaction to jet lag.”

  “Don’t you want the answers? I can give them to you, you know. Kendra asked me to.”

  She was still here—even after his denial of her. And her eyes were probing his mind. Those eyes...

  He was compelled to ask. “What was she thinking about me?”

  “She thought that you were a better person than she was. She wanted to make it up to you for all the grief she’d caused in the past two years. And she hoped you two would have a chance to start again.”

  Dan shook his head. “What the hell’s going on here? I don’t understand.” Frustration and anger lined his face. “Dammit! I don’t understand!”

  She shrugged, facing forward. “Take it easy. After all, this is all new to me, too, Dan. Training didn’t cover half the situations I’ve had to cope with this past week. But if you don’t want to know—”

  “Know what?”

  “The answers to those questions you’ve asked yourself over and over. Every time you’re alone with nothing to do, you quiz yourself on where you went wrong. You’ve come up with a thousand different answers, but it never dawned on you to look at both halves of the whole. You just accepted that Kendra couldn’t be the one at fault.”