A Sister's Power. Cydney Rax

humbling to admit that life was not in her control. That even though she was a meticulous planner who knew what she wanted from life and had an idea of when she wanted those things to happen, she felt resentful when she realized that she had no power over any of her plans.

      * * *

      Thirty-three-year-old Burgundy Reeves Taylor had been married a little more than one decade when she became a widow.

      She never could have imagined that twelve years after she walked down the church aisle to marry her best friend, that she’d be back in church with him for a different reason: Standing in front of the altar, surrounded by family members and friends, staring at the taut, plastic, macabre face of Nate while he rested in a pine box.

      Last fall, during his funeral, she shook countless hands and accepted hug after sympathetic hug from all kinds of people. It seemed like the procession of mourners would never end. When she had a moment to take a break, she noticed two women standing around who she did not recognize. The younger woman’s leg kept jerking. She frequently gave Burgundy the once-over, then looked away. The lady next to her wore a pinched face, no smile. She seemed both hostile and annoyed. Finally the nervous woman approached Burgundy.

      “Hi,” she said.

      “Hello.”

      “I wasn’t sure if I should come up to you or not but I just wanted to tell you that I’m so sorry about what happened.”

      “Thank you.” Burgundy paused as she gazed at the woman. She had almond shaped eyes, sensual lips, a decent figure that included wide hips, and large, rounded breasts that were the first thing one would notice when they saw her. She looked to be thirty-one.

      “You have my deepest sympathies, ma’am.”

      “I appreciate that. But we’ve never met. Who are you and how did you know my husband?”

      “Well, you know, I just knew him that’s all. We were cool like that.”

      “What do you mean?”

      The Annoyed Lady came over and tugged on the other woman’s arm. Nervous Chick pulled away and continued babbling. “I was shocked when he died. And to be honest, when it comes to me and Natey—”

      “Natey?”

      “Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “That’s what I liked to call him. I don’t know if he liked it or not, but I did it anyway every time I saw him.”

      Peeved, Burgundy told her, “Go on.”

      “We were pretty tight. He’d see me eating alone at one of the restaurants that you all owned. And he’d be very nice, a perfect gentleman. And he’d asked me how I liked the food and a few times he let me have a meal on the house. We’d talk every time I came in and eventually Natey tried to get things on and popping between us. And even though I thought he was sexy as hell, I knew that would not be cool in any type of way because he was already in a relationship, you know. I pushed back on Natey and we kept being cool with each other. I thought he was cute and smart and everything. But when I found out he passed away, I had to come here to this church and let you and God know that nothing ever happened between us. I mean nothing.” The woman stared straight ahead and refused to look Burgundy in the eyes during her confession.

      “Good God, Torrie,” Annoyed Lady finally blurted. “You are so damned stupid. Did you really have to go to this woman and open up your damned mouth and tell her all that unnecessary shit? I told your ass not to come here. You should never go out your way to tell wives shit like this. Remember what happened last time? Use your brains. Let’s go.”

      And just like that the two strangers left the building. Left Burgundy alone with a red-hot face. And that’s the moment when Burgundy realized that The Bridges of Madison County wasn’t just a popular movie. Many times it’s only after someone dies that their truth really gets revealed.

      And as she watched the women flee from her presence and out of the church, Burgundy walked over to Alita and looked her square in the eye.

      “That’s it.”

      “What? You mean the funeral?”

      “No. the marriage. When Nate died, my marriage died too.”

      “No shit.”

      “But it seems like our marriage gave out long before he died. I’m just now realizing it.”

      “You feel like me, huh?” Alita asked. “Like you’re going through a divorce?”

      “You stated it perfectly. I feel divorced. I know one thing. I was depressed the moment he died. But I will try my best not to let that sorrow to take over my heart anymore.”

      “Wait a second. You’re a widow. Aren’t you supposed to stay depressed for like a year? Don’t date or make any big decisions?”

      “Alita, after what I’ve been through and what I’m still finding out, I refuse to be bound anymore. Bound to a concept, or a fantasy that has made an utter fool out of me. God knows what else he was doing behind my back.”

      “I know you’re angry but give it some time, B. I saw what happened. Why let these women come in here and get you shook? You don’t know them from Adam. They’re weak. You see how they said what they had to say and then sneaked off like two rats hotfooting down a dark alley.”

      Maybe Alita had a good point.

      “I guess I need to find out what to pay attention to,” Burgundy replied, “and what to ignore.”

      “Ease up, Sis. Like the advice you gave me, allow yourself time to heal.”

      “You’re right.”

      “Even though he wasn’t perfect,” Alita continued, “Nate wasn’t the best husband in the world but he was still your husband. You have to respect what good things he did do without letting the bad things make you feel worse about yourself. Nobody deserves that. Especially after everything he took you through.”

      Burgundy heard what Alita was saying but she felt like she’d been suddenly handcuffed and tossed into jail. Learning about the existence of Torrie was something Burgundy never would have predicted. The new knowledge felt like prison. Like something she could do nothing about. But it also felt like it was nearly time for her prison sentence to end. And Burgundy was counting down the days, the hours, the minutes until she could be free.

      At that point, all Burgundy yearned to do was unshackle all the invisible chains from around her ankles; to turn around and run.

      Run for her life.

      Race toward her freedom.

      Chapter 3

      Sex Has Everything to Do with It

      After their trip to Super Target, Burgundy had been home for thirty minutes when she heard a noise coming from out front. An engine shut off. A heavy door slammed. She logged into her home security app and viewed the live footage of what was happening outside her front door.

      She programmed the alarm system to shut off and then hurried down the hallway before the bell could ring.

      When she opened the door, Burgundy couldn’t help but laugh.

      Edmund Langston Murray looked like he was about to knock. He nearly fell on the floor right inside the doorway. But she caught him by the arm and managed to keep him from falling and making a fool of himself.

      “Elm,” Burgundy told him. Elm was Edmund’s initials and her nickname for him. “You’re too funny.”

      “I’m glad you see the humor and I hope your security camera did not tape that.”

      They both laughed. She allowed him in the house and he followed her in the hallway. She stopped walking. His eyes met hers, then softened. She let him embrace her. Edmund held Burgundy with a strength that made her feel safe and cherished. His scruffy beard caressed her soft cheek and he started to nibble on