There was one ubiquitous element in Scott and Shannon's marriage
that remained a sore point, a constant bone of contention although they rarely
spoke about it. One small detail that always stood between them, however slight
it seemed at times. It was one bridge they had been unable to cross - the only
one in their long relationship of unconditional love.
"Mike Sullivan," Scott thought to himself as he stoked up the
fire again. "Why is it, after all of
these years, his ghost still haunts us? Shannon rarely talks about it, but it's
always there. Like an image one cannot touch, or eliminate. It's a part of herself
she will not share. She might talk about him off and on, but she never goes
deep to tell me how she felt about him, how the events from that time affected
her. That is the part of her she keeps to herself, and I hate it." He paused, the irony striking him all of a sudden.
"If it's true, and there is life
after death in heaven, then that son
of a bitch has probably enjoyed a good laugh all these years. The attention
Sullivan craved from Shannon while he was alive has wrecked havoc on those he
left in his wake for more than twenty years."
Scott stepped away from the
fireplace. Dismissing Sullivan from his mind, he decided today was for him and
Shannon. They would breakfast with their family, and then take a walk down to
the lighthouse. He was alive and Shannon was his wife, the mother of his
children. Those were things the past, or the ghost of Mike Sullivan, could
never take away.
Smiling, he replaced the
poker in the stand by the fireplace and left the room. The mist continued to
swirl outside, accentuated by the blasting foghorn and the sweeping sea beacon.
The pine logs in the hearth crackled, while bits of wood and ash fell under the
grate, making a hissing sound.
The Keeper's Journal is scheduled
to be released by Club Lighthouse Publishing before the end of the year, so keep your
eyes peeled!
