Cold Hearts

What was it about Valentines Day that brought to mind lovers and chocolate? For Serenity, all she could think about was going to a firing range and getting rid of her rage one glock at a time. Lucky her, she even had some posters of him to aim at, her targets being the face, groin, and the place his heart should be. She ignored the shrill ringing of her cell phone, and instead turned up the car radio, and focused on driving in the horrendous night storm that popped up from that special hole in the Doppler that surprises came from. Her wipers slashes across her windshield as fast as they could to dump sleet and snow to the side, and the radio blared some hard rock, and she fought back the burning behind her eyes so the tears wouldn’t blur her already miniscule vision.

She was going too fast, not focusing hard enough, and not really paying attention to where she was. Or, as she suspected later, the Goddess of Love really did hate her personally. Whatever the reason, a pair of headlights much higher than her own suddenly appeared in front of her. She turned the wheel, but her tires slid on the ice, and all she managed to do was have the other vehicle slam into her passenger side rather than head-on. As it was, she had a vague acknowledgement of flying, and then something slammed into her left side, and the soft blackness of unconsciousness embraced her.

- - -

When she woke, she was cold, and her side ached horribly. She was on her…..head. She blinked, and the world came into focus slowly. She was in her car, and the radio was still blaring music, so her car was still on. Reaching out, she grappled for the key, and turned it off. The shrilling of her cell replaced the rock, and she squirmed out of her seatbelt and into a sitting position. She looked around, and saw the glowing screen of the device. She reached out and plucked it out of glass and ice, numbly staring at the number flashing at her. She leaned against her door, only to fall out the window. Gasping at the sudden sharp pain, she struggled to right herself and look out at the world.

White. All she could see was white. The wind whipped around her, starting whirlwinds of ice and snow, and she felt as if she was enclosed in a snow globe, with nothing to see past the glass that she would run into if she dared move. The car was on its top, and Serenity could see the dark metal that made up the intricate underside. The cell screamed its shrill tone at her once more, and she pushed the talk button and held it to her ear.

“H-h-hello?”

“Serenity! Oh, thank god I reached you! Are you alright? Where are you? You were due home almost an hour ago!” Her mother’s voice was like the warm glow of a fresh fire, and Serenity felt herself calming at the feeling of home. She stood there, wherever she was, hugging herself while the wind whipped ice and snow into her face, and all she wanted to do was crawl through the phone and snuggle into her mother’s embrace like she was five again.

“Serenity? Are you still with me, love? Oh, please talk to me!” Serenity shook herself to reality, and licked her almost frozen lips.

“Mama, I’m okay. I skidded out somewhere ‘round mile 73. Do you think you can send help? My car’s a wreck, and I can’t feel most of myself…”

- - -

The hospital was blessedly warm, and Serenity focused on that fact rather than the scores of cut out pink and red hearts that were everywhere. Hanging from the ceiling, plastered on walls and doors, and even little teddy bears holding them aloft proudly, no matter where she looked, there was always some type of Valentine’s Day reminder. It was like a psychotic Cupid had been set loose after a century of confinement. She turned her head and stared out glumly at the blizzard outside, kept at bay by a thin sheet of glass. Somehow, the ambulance had found her, and she had been rushed to the hospital, which miraculously had been accessible from the road. She had listened as the staff talked about her, as they did with every patient they thought was sleeping.

Serenity, in the most fabulous way possible, had been T-boned by an 18-wheeler hauling brand new Hybrids, and had gone flying over the guardrail to roll some fifty feet before coming to a rest upside down not three feet from the barely frozen over swamp. Had she gone that extra yard, she would have ended up trapped in her car under the freezing water that was basically nature sludge. She would have frozen to death, and her body and car probably wouldn’t have been found until well into the summer.

She didn’t bother turning to look when the door opened up, and then closed again. The tension in the room intensified, and her glum mood turned downright surly. She knew who it was. The slight fidget, the obviously uncomfortable clearing of the throat as her tried to figure out what to say, and how to say it. She really didn’t want to hear him make any excuses, and she especially didn’t want to hear any apologies.

“Serenity, I just wanted to say….Well, I don’t know what to say, but you are someone really special to me, and I need you-”

“Shut up, Tim. Just shut up.” Serenity twisted to stare at him. Her vivid green eyes were as frigid as the weather outside, and she took perverse pleasure in seeing him flinch. She kept her voice low, her earlier comment calm, and unhurried.

“You called me earlier, and told me to come to your place because you had something to tell me. Since we’ve been together for three years, silly me thought you were moving on to the next step. So, eagerly I rushed to your place, wanting to get there early to surprise me. Well, a surprise it certainly was. I open the door, and there you were, with your back to me, your pants around your ankles, and my sister’s legs wrapped around your waist.” Her tone still quiet, she watched as he flinched. He reacted as though she had slapped him, and she hoped he truly felt it. She suspected, however, that his reactions were just part of the act he’d wound around her the whole time they’d dated.

“Tim, take the box out of your pocket. Take the pretty little ring you bought to propose to me with, take it and all that you would give me, and shove it up your ass. Then take yourself out of my sight, out of the hospital, and out of my life. Go away, and stay the hell away. I’m through with it all, through with you, and if I never see you again, it will all be too soon.” Serenity turned away, and stared out the window once more. She heard his ragged indrawn breath, and then the door opening and closing. She waited and listened, but heard him no more. Outside, the wind howled too fiercely to let her hear a car starting and leaving, but she knew he was gone.

A single tear, a score of tears, dry sobbing, Lords and Ladies Above, she longed to feel something, but she remained nonchalant, and that cut her even deeper than his betrayal. She blamed her sister, too, but some things you had to deal with one at a time. She pushed the call button, and informed the cheery nurse that she would see no more visitors today, not even immediate family. The nurse gave her a knowing nod and such a sympathetic look that Serenity just wanted to rip out her hair and scream. Still, the door was shut, and blessed silence filled her small, empty world.

In the dead of the night, she sat up. Gently, carefully, she grabbed her medical chart from the foot of her bed. Flipping through it, she surveyed her list of injuries. Left fibula; greenstick fracture, right patella; sprained, minor break in the oscillatory bone, slight concussion, and a spinal twist, as well as several epidural breaches and embolisms. All in all, her injuries could have been much more severe. The list boiled down to a broken left leg, a wrenched right knee, a head wound, and a possibility of being wheelchair bound for a few years, in addition to numerous scratches, scrapes and bruises. She marveled at the fact that her arms were fine. She mused over her luck, and decided she’d take the slight remembrance of Lady Fortune’s Right Hand over the harsh blow dealt to her by the Lord of Love.

She placed the chart back in its holder, and leaned back against the pillows. Turning her head, she stared at the IV drip, letting the monotonous sound lull her to sleep. Drip, Drip, Drip…

- - -

She floated in a sea of Grey Fog, a white glow shining to her left, and a pulsing darkness to her right. She hovered in between, feeling the contrasts. The light was cold, and made her feel the icy bite of wind, and the sharp pain of things cutting into her skin, slicing her to the bone. The darkness gave off a steady warmth, much like she imagined the inside of a womb would feel. She felt drawn to it, hearing a half-remembered voice calling her name from a forgotten dream. Deep within the light, a female voice screeched; the sound grating and reaming her wide with glacial nails. She felt them grab a hold of her very being, and she was being dragged towards the light. She twisted, crying out in pain and loss as the comforting darkness slowly vanished, her name fading away to a bleak nothingness.

Serenity shot awake, gasping as the heart monitors bounced around for a few seconds before calming down to a steady beep-beep, beep-beep. Two nurses and a doctor rushed in, each trying to figure out what happened that sent her heart into a frenzy. She took deep breaths, and answered their questions as calmly as possible. Eventually, she was left alone with a sleep aid that kicked in swiftly, and she drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

Serenity stayed in the hospital for three weeks, then discharged herself with strict doctor orders to stay home and try to rest. He would have preferred her stay there, but she told him that if she had, the hospital would have needed new nurses. Everyday, her nurse changed in accordance to some schedule, and every nurse was as sympathetic and gave her the same identical knowing look. She couldn’t stand their pity, and didn’t want to put up with them any more. So, she went home. Her loving mother had stated she would not get involved between her two daughters, and was instead going to forbid either one from marrying Tim Walters. Serenity had no problem agreeing, and according to her father, neither had Sasha.

This would have led to the question as to why she had gone and slept with Tim in the first place, if Serenity hadn’t known her sister so well. Sasha was a spoiled rising pop star, whose baby doll looks and angelic voice had landed her everything she wanted ever since she had been born. Whatever Serenity had, Sasha had to have it too, or better. When Tim had come along, Sasha had licked her lips and twitched her hips, only to have him coldly look past her to Serenity. Sasha had been furious, and Serenity had been to blissfully happy to notice that her sister had switched strategies on her. Quietly, cunningly, Sasha had worked her way into Tim’s embrace, and Serenity had been blind to it all.

The affair of Tim and Sasha had been going on for two out of the three years Tim had been seeing Serenity. He had put off on sex, saying that he wanted her married to him before he got to indulge himself in her most sensitive secrets. Being the hopeless romantic she was, Serenity had blithely gone along with his explanation, never thinking he didn’t want sex because he was already getting it.

She slammed around her flat for five weeks, nursing a shattered heart and her broken body. After a while, she turned her phone back on, and opened up her laptop. As expected, her messaging machine had maxed out all available space, and her inbox was flooded with questions and concerns from friends, as well as inquiries from work. Serenity formed two general responses, and sent them as a reply to all, one to friends and family, and one to her boss. After she replied, she went and erased all her phone messages without listening to them, and marked all her emails as read. She surfed the net for a while, killing time until her phone rang with a call from her best friend.

“Hey, sounds like someone finally decided to join the living! Reenie, I got twenty cans of Vienna sausages, ten rolls of ready to bake croissants, and a brand new jar of toothpicks. I’ll stop by the liquor store and grab a few bottles of red wine, and we can have a symbolic weenie roast. What do you say to that?” Serenity closed her eyes and let Trish’s honey voice flow over her.

“I say you are the only Lady I’ll ever need, and to hurry up with those reds.”

- - -

“Did your doctor okay your wine indulgence?” Trish’s voice came only slightly slurred from the floor. Serenity lay sprawled on the sofa, and made an affirmative sound.

“I just gotta not take my pills with th’ wine.” Her voice mumbled out from under a pillow, and she debated on what would make her sicker in the morning, the wine or the sausages. She rolled slightly, and decided on the sausages as her stomach protested. Pulling the pillow to the offended area, she looked down at her friend. Trish’s cobalt eyes were blurry but bright, and her face was light with a joyful radiance. Mirrored in those eyes were Serenity’s green ones. Her honey blonde hair spilled haphazardly in waves, contrasting to Trish’s vibrant red curls. The two had been friends forever, and up to eight years ago had been three.

“Oh, I almost forgot! Raise your glass one more time, we gotta toast the happiness of our lost sister!” Trish reached out and gently lifted her wineglass. Serenity’s fingers walked around the table until they found the cool glass, and she raised hers in the toast.

“To Serra Aelfwine, our long-lost sister who finally found the loves of her life. May she never be separated from them, in this world or any other.” Trish tilted her glass to the ceiling, then polished off the contents. Serenity did likewise, seeing laughing pale green eyes, and long brown hair.

Serra had been the joyful bubble in the middle of their friendship sandwich, and with her gone, there had been an empty space in both their hearts. It was a relief and a slightly bittersweet joy to know she finally got her dearest wish of love. Serenity shifted to stare down at herself.

Her leg was in a cast, the other one in a brace, and crutches leaned up against the wall beside the arm of the sofa at her feet. Her gaze wandering, she looked around the room, taking in the sight of her home. A folded wheelchair leaned against the wall; a TV played some old movie with weepy heroines and muscular heroes with voices of clearest tenor. A large bookshelf stretched across one wall, sporting pictures and paperbacks, and on the opposite wall were two shaded windows and the front door. Some light pooled from the kitchen doorway at the foot of the couch, and the entrance to the stairway lay somewhere behind her.

Cozy, two-floored, her home had been her sanctum before the accident, and now it was her prison. Serenity fondly thought of her store, with the stacks of books and the rows of bookshelves, and the cozy niches with puffy armchairs and soft lighting. She sighed, and put the glass to her lips again, only to find that her wine had been reduced to a small dribble.

“Trish? Th’ wine’s all gone…” A small noise came from the floor, then a little sigh followed by rhythmic breathing. Serenity flopped her head to the side and smiled at her sleeping friend, her best mate, and completely sloshed guardian angel. Her eyes blurred, and then her eyelids drifted down. She joined Trisha in dreamland, the screen of a couple in a passionate embrace framed symbolically on the screen of the TV.

- - -

Three weeks later, and Serenity was idly flipping through a much loved dog-eared paperback, humming along to the soft tones coming from the radio. Life had resumed, and she had retaken her post behind the front counter of the local bookshop, Pages of Time. Regrettably, the doctor had determined that Serenity needed to keep her brace and cast on, which meant she was rolling about in her spiffy wheelchair, and using crutches at home. Casually, she flicked her gaze over to where Trisha was sitting. She had set herself up at a table, and after covering it with a silk cloth the color of dark plum, she had shuffled tarot cards and set up astrological clocks. If someone was willing to part with some money, she would give them a palm, tarot, or star reading. Scary thing was that she was always right.

The store was quiet, the soft hush of pages turning, soft music playing from the radio, and the breathing of the readers made up the background noise, and all was forgotten of the world outside. Then, the door opened, the little bell pinging to announce the addition to their secluded pocket of time. Serenity glanced up, froze, then rolled her eyes and propped her chin on her fist as she regarded the visage framed in the doorway.

Styled silver hair, purple eyes, and a careless gothic dress, coupled with a youthful face and slim body belied the sarcastic wit and dry humor that filled the repertoire of his vocabulary. Michael Thernos, former bartender and authentic gay, he was the mother figure and ass kicker for Serenity and Trisha.

“Hello, my little bumbles! And, why are we inside on a day like today? We should be out and enjoying the scenery!” Trisha flipped a card over, and replied without looking up.

“Mickey, your idea of enjoying scenery is to watch every available hot guy around, and hold heated debates on whether or not they would look as good out of their clothes as they do in them. Sometimes you’re right, and other times we have to hand the poor guy a free ticket to the nearest gym or spa, depending on the treatment needed.” Serenity giggled and turned a page as Michael wrinkled his nose at Trisha.

“Heathen, you simply do not enjoy the fine art of eye stripping that I have perfected.” He sauntered over to the counter, and tapped the middle of Serenity’s book. “Darling, you’ve read this about 30 or so times, give the poor thing a break. Tell you what, when you close up, I’m gonna take you ladies to the Club! There’s a new dancer that I’m positively in love with, and I simply must share my findings with you.”

“If not just to make sure none of us let him get swept out from under your nose if we chance to see him in the daylight hours.” Trish’s dry comment caused a few snickers from eavesdroppers around the store. Michael shot her a pout, and then turned a beseeching look on Serenity.

“Sweetie, Reenie darling, it is wheelchair accessible, and once your at the posh tables you’ll love the views! Please? Pretty please and this season’s latest dress from Gucci? Complete with Prada pumps!” Serenity gaped at him.

“You didn’t!” Michael smiled and whipped out a white plastic dress bag and a shoe box.

“I did, and you’ll look absolutely fabulous in this!” Trisha’s gasp came next, and then she joined them at the counter, their three heads bent over the shimmery soft teal strapless number with intricate black beading. The pumps were a bittersweet joy, as she could only wear one of the pair on her unencased foot. Strappy sandals with low heels, they accented her slim feet and ankles. Serenity sighed over the treasures and slid her hand in Michaels, threading the fingers together.

“You are the best guy I have ever known, and a Shopping God.” Trisha mm’d in agreement, lightly tracing the outline of the sole of one shoe. Michael saw the envious gleam, and chuckled.

“Never fear, Trisha my darling! I have a little something for you too!” Trisha grinned at him and tossed a tarot card on the counter.

“Lady Fortune smiles on us, girls!” The wheel of fortune spun on the countertop, coming to a halt facing Serenity.

-End Chapter-

((next Chapter introduces the other three!!))