Her last chance

  Her Last Chance

  The Daniels Dynasty: Kate & Warren

  Danielle Lee Zwissler

  DISCLAIMER

  This version of Her Last Chance is a production of Firefly & Wisp Books and the author. Everlasting Publisher Int. hereby disclaims any liability for linguistic or grammatical errors in the text.

  Her Last Chance – Danielle Lee Zwissler

  Copyright: Everlasting Publisher Int.

  Published by: Everlasting Publisher Int.

  Cover design: QDesign

  Revision cover and text: Amy Jackson

  E-book production: Down Write Nuts

  ISBN: 978-91-88147-27-1

  Dedicated to:

  Earl, the barriers finally crumbled.

  I will love you forever.

  Acknowledgements

  To my beautiful children: Ariana and Logan Zwissler. I love you more than anything in this entire world. To Krista Bowden: a friend from high school that took the time to read about Warren and Kat’s story, and to Wesley and Rise’ Haver, my parents. Thanks for college...I think it may have helped.

  Thank you, God, for everything.

  PREFACE

  Love could be so unexpected. She could still see him; his face was etched in her mind as the ambulance made its way through the small residential area. Her lip trembled as she cried out his name repeatedly. Her father was sitting next to her, his hand covering her own. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t speak as she closed her eyes once more.

  A few minutes later, she was lifted out of the ambulance as the EMTs pushed her gurney through the double doors of the slight Connecticut hospital. She could hear everything, but opening up her eyes caused pain that she didn’t want to feel. She heard her father speak once again: “It’s okay, baby. We aren’t mad at you, we love you. Your mother and I—we love you!” he sobbed.

  Strangely, Katherine didn’t care. She’d wanted to be anywhere but with him at that moment. She didn’t care where she went as long as she wouldn’t have to see this place ever again, with its people, animals, and little children—all happy. The diseases, God-fearing idiots, drunk drivers, drug-abusers, and terrorists. What was so great about here? She didn’t know. Obviously the big guy upstairs would know, and if he was real, maybe she would ask him. Nothing she experienced had been that great—absolutely nothing, except for her brief life with Warren.

  Warren.

  Her lip trembled once more, and she felt her body shake. The monitor on the machine that she heard beeped.

  One long beep.

  Dead.

  She was dead.

  Good.

  No more life, no more worries.

  A blank slate.

  ***

  She floated in a space just above her bed and continued up through the room. The light that had once been blinding was now far away and mellow. She could see black all around her. Space? No, no stars. Is this death? This isn’t half bad, I say to myself. Then she heard it; them. Voices: her family, friends, her life. It was all falling apart, and for once, she didn’t have to deal with it.

  “Kat!” she heard her mother calling her. She was crying.

  Katherine felt herself being tugged down. She watched. Her mother was standing next to the bed, near collapse, as her father put his arms around her. She fell over, and fainted. Her father had caught her mother just before she hit the ground.

  She could see them now—well, pictures of them—and they were floating around her like miniature television screens all tuned in to her life. Not just of what was happening now, but what had happened in the past. Everything that she had ever done was in front of her, screaming at her to notice.

  The pictures moved past her as she watched them. She detected that they were all of the bad things, the questionable things that she had done over the years, starting with when she was just a little girl. She looked up, remembering the time vividly.

  It was her.

  She sat on the floor with a pair of scissors and her brother’s new coat. “I remember this,” Katherine whispered. “Oh, this is the time when I took my brother’s jacket and cut it.” Yes, that was funny. Now she sees something that she hadn’t seen before—her brother in the corner crying. The coat was his favorite. His other one had stains, and he was made fun of for it. Now she felt horrible. A tear slid down her cheek. It was a new feeling, as it had been years since she had cried. She was now overwhelmed.

  There was more.

  Every action had a positive and negative reaction. She knew that now. Not that she didn’t know the concept before, but for the past few years she couldn’t quite grasp much of anything—nothing since Warren had died.

  Warren was her boyfriend of five years, and they had been inseparable. It had practically been love at first sight, and then he was driving home one evening after work and she had never seen him again. She didn’t know if he was alive or dead, if he had run away from their life, from her. He’d just vanished, as if he had never been there in the first place. As if the last five years were a figment of her imagination. They never found his car. They couldn’t even find a trace of a credit card.

  She tried to move on and almost succeeded, until two years ago when she got the call that they had found his body.

  He was dumped off somewhere in the woods, disregarded as if a human life was a waste, as if he were trash.

  He was murdered.

  Her heart broke.

  The whole tragedy came right back and crashed down on her. She was as good as dead two years ago. The fact that she had made it a whole two years was a testament of her will to live. She lost her mind, her feelings, the ability to cry, and more importantly, the will to live. Which, of course, brought her to her current status.

  Now, more pictures of her life came alive. A moment with Warren…This was when he had asked her to marry him. It was such a beautiful day. The sun was out, no clouds. She couldn’t help but smile at the memory. They were sitting on the beach when he rolled over on the sand to her towel and had this seashell in his hand. He held it in his palm and asked her to take it. Katherine thought he was being silly, so she told him no. His eyes pleaded with her, and she laughed and playfully took it out of his hand. In his palm was an emerald-and-diamond ring. It was small, so she rolled her eyes and told him when he could get serious about her and get a better ring, she would accept. She laughed a little, thinking that he would do the same. Looking back, she wished she wouldn’t have. Now the next part came into view. More pictures of Kat’s life were flashing in front of her: Warren working extra hours, him pushing an alarm clock at three in the morning. Why?

  He threw his clothes on and pulled into this warehouse that she had never seen before and started shoveling…fish? He worked on the docks? When did he? She watched some more. He looked tired as he shoveled and shoveled and continued until the clock struck seven a.m. Some guy named Charlie came up to him and patted him on the shoulder.

  Warren looked and spoke. “Only five more weeks of this, and I can buy that ring!” He smiled.

  “Wow, Warren…Marriage. That’s great! Do you have a picture of your girl?”

  “Of course,” Warren said happily. He pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. “Now, don’t touch the picture. It’s all I have. Isn’t she beautiful? I just hope she says yes.”

  “Ah, man, any guy who works two jobs and smiles like a fool every time he talks about his girl is sure to get a yes. What’s the ring look like?”

  “Well, it sparkles like her eyes. It’s not huge, but I think it’s her. It has one slit of an emerald in the center, and there are nine diamonds around it. It reminds me of her, my Kat. It looks like a cat’s eye—and not to mention the nine diamonds.”

  “Damn, that sounds great. Do you think she’l
l like the emerald?”

  “I hope so. It's the color of her eyes. Make no mistake, it will suit her; I just hope she says yes.”

  Katherine started to cry. Just looking at Warren brought all of the good and bad memories back to her. “GET ME OUT OF HERE!” she said—screamed was more like it. Why didn’t he tell her that he’d worked so hard? She would have been… “GOD! GOD! If you exist, why don’t you get me out of this hell? GET ME OUT OF...!”

  “Hello, Katherine,” the voice called out.

  “Who’s there? Who are you?!” she yelled.

  “Ah…you know exactly who I am, don’t you?” the voice said.

  She sat down in the dark space and folded her legs under her. She searched the room for a face, but got nothing. She screamed again, “Please! Get me out of here!”

  After a minute or so she could see Him. God. She started to cry. Ashamed, she covered her face. Tears came down her skin and she could feel her body start to shake. She felt sick. It was hard to breathe.

  “Take a deep breath, Katherine. It’s okay, I’m here.”

  She inhaled deeply and immediately felt better. She straightened her shoulders and stood up.

  He walked over toward her and held out His arms.

  She ran the rest of the way to Him. “I’m sorry! I am so, so sorry!”

  “Do you know what you did?” God asked.

  “I…What I did?”

  “Yes, Katherine. What you did. You gave up on life. Do you know what you did?”

  “Life gave up on me! You’re God; you put me in this place.”

  “I also gave you free will. You have the ability to turn things around. You have control over your own destiny.”

  Katherine couldn’t help but think that it seemed like such a God thing to say.

  “Things are tough, Katherine…Ask my Son, he’ll tell you. Not everyone can be bent to your will.”

  Is he joking? Is God making a joke? This is not funny. His Son? Dammit, he’s talking about Jesus in a time like this. “What are you talking about? Are you telling me that you couldn’t stop Judas?”

  God smiled. He stood back and paced the room and rubbed His chin with His thumb and forefinger. He was much taller than she had expected, and He wasn’t white either. If she were being honest with herself, it was kind of freaking her out. His voice was deep, and He looked Middle-Eastern—almost like a terrorist, or what she imagined a terrorist looked like.

  Thank God He can’t hear my thoughts!

  “I’m not a terrorist, Katherine,” God said. “And not all Middle-Eastern people are either…You should know that.”

  Her eyes widened. He could hear thoughts, too. She freaked out. Then tried to stop and clear her mind.

  It wasn’t working.

  “It’s hard to be here, isn’t it?”

  “Where is here?” Katherine asked, trying not to think about what was going on around her.

  “Limbo.”

  “Limbo? What do you mean? This isn’t Heaven?” she asked.

  God started to laugh—and not just a chuckle, but a big old belly laugh. “Heavens no!” He said, laughing at His last remark. His eyes twinkled.

  “What’s Limbo?”

  “The land between the Heavens,” He said, and pointed up, “and Hell.” He looked down under His feet at the blackness.

  “Oh,” is all she could muster.

  “Oh,” He said as He looked into her eyes. “So, you called?”

  “What? I…Yes…I don’t wish to see these pictures anymore. I want to go with you, where it’s happy, where I can see my Warren again.”

  “Ah, I thought that may be what you wanted,” He said, then put his hand back up to his chin and rubbed. “No.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “No. You will remain here. This is your one-way ticket to Limbo. You killed yourself, Katherine. Apparently you can’t remember the contract we had before you entered into the living.”

  “Contract? I—” She didn’t remember any contract. For heaven’s sake, she was born into the world, and then she…

  God stood before her and pulled a long piece of parchment out of His pocket. Her name was at the top, scrawled in gold—Katherine Elizabeth Daniels—and it was her signature. This had to be a joke.

  “No joke,” God said.

  “Stop doing that!” Katherine cried.

  “What?”

  “Stop listening to my thoughts! How did you get my signature?” she asked, and then all at once she remembered. She was there before, only it wasn’t exactly there. It was in the place that they call Heaven. She was a flash of light before. She signed the paper agreeing to the life that God had found for her, created for her, and she was to enter, learn to live. She was given a gift. Not everyone could go down. Angels remained up in Heaven for training. She was special, God told her, and now she had ruined it. How could she have...?

  “Forgotten?” God asked. “Many do. You lost your way, I’m afraid. You did just as many did to my Son: you forgot about your purpose, your will. And now I’m afraid you will remain here with the lost. Hopefully, someday you will find your way.” A light surrounded Him, and He started up a staircase that wasn’t there before. She yelled for Him to stop.

  “One more chance,” she pleaded. Tears started streaming down from her eyes; she launched herself at His feet. She pulled Him back down the steps. He looked down at her sadly and wept. After His tears diminished, He held out His hand and pulled out another sheet of parchment.

  Katherine breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that He was giving her what she thought it was…a second chance. “This time, I’ll get it right, I promise! I want to share a life with you. Please, let me go with you! Let me see my Warren again! Please?”

  “I’ve got a better idea, Katherine. Don’t mess this one up,” He said as He peered down at her. “Let’s just call it one last chance.”

  “Anything, God, anything. You won’t be disappointed!”

  God looked up with a thoughtful expression and smiled. “I suppose not,” He breathed, and then held out His gold pen once more.

  Katherine felt its familiar structure in her hand. She smiled up at Him as He watched her sign the paper, and then, like a flash, He was gone, and she found herself screaming again. Only this time, the scream was not of anger or of happiness. It was one of agitation, and she could see her father. He was young, and he was smiling as he was saying something to her mother.

  Something about a cord.

  “She’s so beautiful, Gail,” her dad said.

  “I have so much planned for you, baby girl. You’re mommy’s special little lady,” her mom cooed.

  Katherine couldn’t help but think that she had a lot planned for herself, too, as she pulled her little hand to her mouth and sucked her thumb.

  Oh, shit.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Thirty-Eight Years Later…

  Katherine Daniels saw him looking at her through one of those “sideways” glances, and her heart skipped a beat nearly every time he did it. She couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge the flirtation between them; she could only turn beet red at the thought of it. Kelsey Martin was the editor in chief of High Fashion magazine, and he certainly knew how to get women to fawn over him. Only she didn’t want to be just any other woman.

  The boardroom for High Fashion magazine was full. She, being the advice columnist for the magazine, was expected to turn in her latest column. Her friend Lacy, the cosmetologist; Janice Wheeler, the daughter of the owner of High Fashion magazine and also the one in charge of print production; and Kelsey, the editor in chief; sat in the room planning the next month’s layout.

  “Hey, Kat, I need your column on my desk right away. I know this isn’t the New York Times…but…we still sign your checks,” Janice said, smirking.

  Kelsey cleared his throat as Katherine began to speak. “I have the specs ready for you now.” She sifted through a few papers then pulled out the ones she wanted and handed them across the table. Janice was
in charge of large print production and ran a tight ship. She wanted the articles on her desk at least five hours before the deadline—supposedly in case of “magazine emergencies.” Yet everyone knew it was because she was anal retentive with a side of bitchiness. High Fashion was indeed not the New York Times. The Times was a more-than-reputable journalism position, one that she had strived to obtain since college. It was serious, unlike High Fashion—lipstick and shoes. She wanted to give real advice. Advice that went further than “How to entice your man in bed” or “What to do on that special date.”

  Janice took the papers and placed them on the pile in front of her. “Thank you. Now on to other business. I need to have production up at least twenty-five percent this quarter. Kelsey, get on your columnists. We need more spice, pizzazz. We need something hot like Angelina Jolie or Prada. I want the Halloween cover to be scary but posh. I want the key demographics buying this magazine tenfold over Glamour and Cosmo.”

  “What do you suggest I do, Janice, hire a new crew? We have the October issue already finished. Not spicy enough?”

  “Please, Kelsey. I get spicier things out of my nightly glass of vodka. See me in my office for your next assignment.” Janice’s eyes rolled to the back of her head before she stood, glaring at Kelsey and then at the rest of the staff.

  Kelsey nodded his head in agreement and rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand. He looked stressed.

  Janice looked at everyone just then and spoke. “Okay, folks…let’s get to this. And, if I may add, this magazine is called ‘High Fashion.’ Please don’t embarrass us here by wearing the latest garage sale items. Shareholders stop in here every day. They take notice to what you’re wearing.” Looking directly at Katherine, she smiled nastily. The others in the room glanced around. Kelsey looked down at his suit and shrugged his shoulders, and Lacy glared at Janice as she stole a glance at Katherine, noticing her blue sweater. Katherine looked embarrassed.