Picking Up the Pieces

"Mrs. Francis, we're sorry for your loss. Your husband did not make it," the doctor told her without making eye contact from his chart.

"No, please don't tell me that. My husband would never leave me. Nooooo. It is not possible. We just went out last night and celebrated our anniversary. Now tell me where my husband is," Paula shouted as her voice continued to go up on octave.

"He was buried at Queens Bridge Cemetery six months ago," said a police detective who looked like a former GQ model that had not showered in two days. His clothes were severely rumpled and his dirty canary colored hair had seen better days.

"Six months ago? What the hell happened?" Paula wondered as tears streaming down her cheeks. She did not understand what happened to her life. She was once happy and now she's alone.

"The two of you were coming home when you were attacked. He didn't survive and you did," the detective continued as he leaned against the wall.

"Why should I believe you when I don't even know your name?"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Francis, I'm Detective Carson," He replied trying to avoid having her lose it in front of him.

"What happened, Detective Carson? I want to know," Paula demanded as tears lightly streamed down her face. Every muscle in her body ached and her head was pounding. Those pains did not matter to her because her heart was in worse shape than the rest of her body. She wanted answers and he was going to give them to her no matter what.

"Well, I was going to ask you the same thing, but I did gather some information. The two of you were returning home from a date when two--" Detective Carson was abruptly cut off when Paula started to remember what happened.

"Thugs ambushed us. They wanted our money and our dignity, but we weren't willing to give either without a fight," Paula paused as the memories began pouring into her thoughts. "Before I get to the specifics, Detective, I need you to understand a little bit about my marriage before I get to the crime."

"Okay, you can go at your own pace, Mrs. Francis," Detective Carson stated rather calmly to prevent Paula from going over the edge.

"I thought I had it all at the time. A loving husband, a great career, and a wonderful daughter. For five years, Charlie and I were invincible. Nothing could touch us and our egos clearly reflected that sentiment. We were the perfect couple until those punks destroyed it all," Paula's tear stained eyes focused on a pigeon sitting on the edge of her window. She wished she was that pigeon so she could fly away from this nightmare at a moment's notice. Instead, she had to relive the night Charlie died in painstaking detail.

The moment played in her mind constantly since it happened like a video tape stuck in the Bermuda Triangle. Paula and her husband Charlie were coming home from an anniversary celebration when two thugs followed them down a dark alley. The thugs decided to rob them and when Charlie resisted that's when the gloves came off.

The next few minutes flashed by in a series of quick moments: blood splattering, knives flicking open, and the sound of two gun shots piercing through the air. Before losing consciousness, the last thing Paula remembered was hearing Charlie scream right before the final gun shot. He begged for their lives to be sparred, but his pleas were left ignored. The last sound being the most fatal, and the one that left Paula a widow and in intensive care.

Six months passed as Paula languished in a coma. Her mind and body were both recovering from that horrible night. Neither was able to accept the fact that Charlie died and she was a single mother. During this six month period, Paula had numerous coma dreams about her life, especially her marriage. Charlie would have had a laugh over Paula's mind turning their life together into an extended miniseries. One of her favorites was when she first met Charlie.

Picture this. 2002. Paula enlisted in the army and was shipped to Iraq as a soldier/war correspondent. She was a scared young reporter full of idealism that went away as soon as she stepped into the war zone. Bombs bursting and guns blazing. Paula's first reaction was to throw up everything she ate in the last week, or at least what it felt like. Her stomach was so terrified that it literally jumped out of her throat.

Paula jumped when she felt the course hands of a man pulling her hair back as she kneeled on the ground, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Preventing your hair from smelling like vomit for the rest of the day," the soldier said as he helped Paula from the ground. He handed her some water and smiled as an awkward silence fell between them.

"Thank you, Soldier, for your help," Paula studied his physique and starred intently into his Turquoise hued eyes. His well sculpted abs and machine gun shaped arms made him the ultimate Rambo type package she was drawn to.

She forgot about the war and her nerves for a brief second to dream about having a secret rendezvous with Superman. She quickly snapped out of her reverie when General Norman appeared.

"Well, Corporal Kersae, I see that you met Corporal Francis. Now that you two are getting acquainted neither of you will mind very much to work with each other," General Norman said with stern stiffness. "Kersae, I want to listen to everything Francis tells you to do. You might be a reporter, but you're also a soldier too."

"Yes, General," Paula flipped back her butterscotch shoulder length hair from her peach complexion and saluted him.

"So, you're the reporter I'm supposed to be partnered with. Nice to put a face to a name," Charlie smiled politely as he ran his hands through his buzz cut Pecan colored hair. His nerves suddenly had gotten the best of him. He did not know how to behave in front of her.

"Nice to see I'm not the only one that's nervous around here. You see I volunteered to come down as a reporter. My editor was pretty pissed that I enlisted without him knowing though. Being a reporter here was kind of a peace offering," Paula explained as a way to relate to him. "My column 'Ask Paula' was just put into syndication and I wanted to take my career into a different direction so I enlisted. I want to help with my actions as well as my words."

"I'm sorry to have talked your ear off, Corporal," She started to walk over to her tent and did not realize he followed her into it.

"That's okay, Ms. Kersae, I like to listen to you talk. Your words fascinate me," He shook her hand and felt an electric current run through both their bodies. "Call me, Charlie, since we're going to be spending a lot of time together. Let's at least be on familiar terms."

"Okay, Charlie, please call me Paula then. I look forward to working with you," She let go of his hand even though she did not want to. He walked out of her tent and right into her heart.

She fell in love with Charlie right at that moment, but neither of them declared their feelings until three months into their partnership. Paula was sent home and back to The Chronicle to continue as a columnist. She wrote to Charlie every day until his tour was finished caused by a leg injury from a roadside bomb. They married right after his physical therapy was completed and had Michelle not too long after that.

They've had five years of wedded bliss and a doting daughter. They were an unbeatable combination of strength, intelligence and comedy. The three stooges wrapped in an attractive suburban package. Their anniversary date in the city was a magical night of dancing, fine dining and a moonlit carriage ride.

"I will always love you, Paula. You and Michelle will always be the loves of my life," Charlie sighed as he brushed a loose piece of Paula's hair from her face. He always did that when he looked at her. This simple gesture made her feel safe even when the world was in complete chaos. She tried to hold onto that safe feeling in her coma and as she talked to Detective Carson. Sadly, she was alone for the first time in five years and she no longer felt safe.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Francis," Detective Carson stated with flat sincerity as he closed his notebook.

"Please, call me Paula. Let's at least be on familiar terms now that I told you my story," Paula muttered weakly as she shook his hand.

"Here's my card and I wrote my cell number on the back in case you remember something else or you just want to talk," Detective Carson let go of her hand. "Rudy."

"What?"

"You can call me Rudy."

"Okay, Rudy, I'll do that."

Rudy was half out the door when he turned around and told her, "We caught the two punks that did it last week. It took us a while but we finally found them last week."

"Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"I wanted to hear your story for some reason. As a detective I like to hear everything from all points of view before I make a decision."

"Is there a possibility I have to testify?"

"Yes, there is, but focus on resting first before that bridge is crossed," Rudy turned to walk away again for real this time. "Don't worry, Paula, they're going to pay for what they did."

"That's right, detective. Those sick freaks are going to pay dearly," Paula's thirst for water and blood soon overtook her. The need to watch those men suffer for ruining her life forced her mind and body to recover quickly.

Her physical therapy went into overdrive. She nearly tore her legs muscles to shreds and her arms moved like two large canoe oars. She did not care because she wanted to be in perfect shape when she blew their brains out. Paula wanted to kill those men more than anything in the world. They killed Charlie and her spirit simultaneously. She gathered information about them and studied their habits. She could not very well do it in courtroom. She had to be methodical and sneaky to do that, which was nearly impossible with today's technology. The only snag was that she had second and third thoughts about not doing it.

When she was released from the hospital, she told her parents to keep Michelle until she felt good enough to bring her home. Paula was not ready to look her daughter in the face until she was ready. Before carrying out her plan, Paula went to visit Charlie's grave to seek his advice. She knew he was gone, but the visit was long overdue.

"Hi, honey, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I was otherwise occupied," Paula's eyes welled up with tears as she continued on. "Well, I was in a coma. My mind and my body could not deal with losing you. I don't know if I still can. All I dream about is killing those two punks who ruined our lives. I want to make them suffer as I have, but for some reason the idea becomes more disgusting than heaven."

Paula began crying profusely. The tears would not stop and all her feelings tumbled out of her mouth. "I don't want you to be disappointed in me. I don't want your death to be in vain, but I can't do it. I can't kill anyone like this. You'd want me to be with Michelle and make sure that she becomes the woman we both want her to be. I have got to stop this."

Paula starred at the gun and pointed it at her head for two seconds before she threw it onto the ground. Instead of picking it up, she opened the phone and began dialing Rudy's cell phone number. Her heart skipped a beat when she heard a dial tone. Unfortunately, his voicemail picked up rather than him.

"Hello, Rudy. It's Paula Francis. I think I need your help. I don't know where else to turn. I almost committed a serious crime and I'm scared about what I'm going to do next. Please call me as soon as possible," Paula shut her phone as her knees gave out from under her.

She waited for Rudy to show up and when he did Paula felt safe. He scooped her up into his arms and allowed her to spill her guts out to him. He did not judge her intentions and took her home. Rudy got her into grief counseling and became her best friend. Two years passed before their relationship became a romantic one. Their bond intensified as they decided to go on their first date. The date was an awkward success that continued at her front door.

"I had a good time," Rudy confessed as he wondered whether or not to kiss her.

"Liar, we had a third wheel that we could not shake the entire night."

"Who?" Rudy was confused by this. It was just them unless she was talking about Charlie.

"Our nerves, silly," Paula tapped him on the shoulder and she inched her way closer to him. "What's there to be nervous about? We've known each other for two years and we've seen each other through our worst."

"I know that. I don't see why we should be so scared. It's just us," Rudy moved closer to Paula and leaned into kiss her. She responded in kind by pulling him against the door and gave into Rudy's kiss. He tasted of a woodsy musk that appealed to her.

She let go of her past inhibitions and allowed herself a second chance with Rudy. Paula knew she had Charlie's blessing and Michelle loved Rudy as well. He made her laugh whenever he visited and she hoped for many happy moments with both of them.

"I will always love you, Charlie, but I need to move on with my life. I hope you forgive me. If you do, give me a sign," Paula sighed in relief as a gust of wind caught her attention. "Thank you, Charlie. I'll be seeing you in the next life someday."

Paula left the cemetery and focused on her new life. She planned to face it head on without any fear. She had Rudy and Michelle in her corner, which was all that mattered. The need for revenge was gone and all that remained was love. The most valuable currency in the world.