The Edge of Ever After

By Laura Lynn

In her debut novel, author Laura Lynn brings you a captivating story about grief, healing, and hope. By sharing the unlikely intersection of two very different lives, we see that some of the most precious things in life can come from the most difficult situations. "The Edge of Ever After" is a must-read masterpiece of literary fiction that reminds us how grief is universal in its reach, but despite that, life is filled with meaning, hope, and love.

The story opens in present day Chicago as Beth Egan travels from her home in North Carolina to celebrate her son's graduation from Northwestern. With a nearly perfect marriage to a man she adores, a talented son, and a precocious nine-year-old daughter who keeps her young even in middle age, Beth certainly recognizes her good fortune. Yet when a tragic car accident results in the death of her husband and daughter, Beth and her son return to their North Carolina home adrift in the barren world of grief.

At the same time, in a dark Florida alleyway, an African-American street magician finds two young homeless women badly beaten and left for dead. Taking them under his wing, he nurses them back to health and together they form an unconventional type of family. When circumstances bring them to North Carolina, their paths intersect in an unusual way as Beth's mental health continues to deteriorate. After she lands in the psychiatric ward of a local hospital, the characters come together to find magic hidden in the everyday, hope in the midst of tragedy, and love in the unlikeliest of places.

Over time, it becomes clear that each character must find their own path through the darkness, and, in the process, they form a unique and unconventional family. Despite their tumultuous journeys, they learn that the best way to manage the inevitable grief in life is with determination, humility, community, and laughter. Eventually, they come to understand that it is only through acknowledging and sharing our brokenness that we can discover the strength and beauty within us, and each other.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Mar 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667827179

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The Edge of Ever After

©2022 Laura Lynn

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

eBook ISBN 978-1-66782-717-9

Contents

PART I

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

PART II

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

PART III

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

PART IV

CHAPTER 54

CHAPTER 55

CHAPTER 56

CHAPTER 57

CHAPTER 58

CHAPTER 59

CHAPTER 60

CHAPTER 61

PART V

CHAPTER 62

CHAPTER 63

CHAPTER 64

CHAPTER 65

CHAPTER 66

CHAPTER 67

PART VI

CHAPTER 68

CHAPTER 69

PART I

When you look at a piece of delicately spun glass you think of two things: how beautiful it is and how easily it can be broken.

-Tennessee Williams

CHAPTER 1

Chicago, Illinois

Okay, here’s the riddle, I said, pulling a card from the middle of the box. I am right in front of you, but you can’t touch me. You think you know me, but you can’t see me. What Am I?

I glanced at my daughter, Gracie, who was lying on her back, chewing thoughtfully on a strand of her hair.

Are you sure that riddle was from the 3rd grade section of the box? she asked.

Yes, but if it makes you feel any better, I don’t know the answer either. Just guess.

Okay…I guess The Wizard of Oz?

I smiled, The Wizard of Oz?

Well, you have to guess, too.

I thought for a moment, Okay…I’m gonna say the Mega Bucks Lottery numbers.

Gracie giggled. Very funny. What’s the answer?

I turned the card over and read from the back, I am the Future.

We were quiet for a moment, both contemplating the answer. Then Gracie shook her head.

Nope. That’s wrong, she declared. We do know the future.

We do?

Yep. Like we know Michael is graduating tomorrow. That’s the future isn’t it?

Hmm… I scratched my head and pretended to be deep in thought, Not so fast, Missy. What if Michael dropped out and didn’t tell us?

Gracie giggled again, Dad would be really, really mad!

I laughed along with her and bent down to kiss her cheek. Now you get some rest, goofy girl. Tomorrow is a busy day.

Within minutes she was asleep, and I got up to put the box of game cards away. I glanced again at the riddle and made a mental note to ask Jay about it tomorrow. He always enjoyed a good brain teaser. Turning out the light, I climbed into bed and waited for sleep, but my mind refused to cooperate. It swirled with thoughts of Michael and Gracie and this new phase of life Jay and I were approaching.

In a sense, Gracie was right. We did know the future, didn’t we? We knew that Michael was graduating tomorrow. We knew that he was going to attend medical school back home at the University of North Carolina. And we knew that Jay would be arriving from his conference in Bloomington in time to watch the ceremony. With proper preparation, it certainly did seem possible to know the future. Or at least to have a very good idea of what tomorrow would bring.

But, of course, tomorrows are more than just squares on the calendar—more than blank spaces for recording the day’s events. Tomorrows are made up of hours, and the hours are made up of minutes. The minutes are made up of moments, and that is where the future hides—in those tiny uncontrollable snippets of time. The ones that are barely noticeable and almost impossible to remember.

Until something terrible happens. And then they become impossible to forget.

***

Michael’s graduation the next day was perfect. Everything went according to plan. Gracie and I arrived at the stadium in plenty of time, and Jay was able to find us thanks to our pre-arranged meeting spot. After the ceremony, we celebrated with plenty of hugs and even more photos. Then Michael took the van to show Gracie a nearby science museum while Jay and I went to get his rental car in order to head back to the hotel before dinner.

There she is, Jay purred as we exited the elevator on the 4th floor of the satellite parking garage. Right in front of us, with the top down, sat a shiny, black Mustang convertible.

"This is your rental car?"

I couldn’t resist, he confessed and kissed me on the cheek. Besides, it’s a business expense.

You’re hopeless, I teased, lowering myself into the passenger seat.

Jay started the engine and turned towards the garage exit. I watched him as he adjusted his sunglasses. Even now, after all these years, he still made me smile. He must have felt me looking because he reached down and squeezed my knee.

Hold on, baby, he said, Here we go!

As we merged onto the interstate, I closed my eyes and imagined myself as a movie star with paparazzi close behind.

When we finally arrived at the hotel room, I stood in front of the air conditioning unit and let the cool breeze wash over me. I didn’t even feel Jay behind me until he began slowly unzipping the back of my dress. I laughed and pulled away.

C’mon, he whispered in my ear. We have a few free hours before dinner, don’t we?

Yes, but I’m stinky.

Not to me, he said, gently kissing my neck while peeling the sticky red dress from my back.

I protested, but only minimally, before letting go and folding myself into his arms.

***

Afterwards, with my head resting on the soft cushion of skin between his neck and shoulder, he kissed my hair and asked where Michael had chosen for his celebratory dinner.

Bella Serata, I answered.

Oh, the Italian place on the river?

That’s the one.

Nice, he murmured and closed his eyes. "Very nice.

CHAPTER 2

Bella Serata stood proudly on the banks of the Chicago River. With broad, white turrets stretching skyward, the Mediterranean-style castle summoned romantics and wanderers alike. As Jay and I passed under the stone archway, he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close. I felt as if we were entering a magical land. Our own version of Camelot where even the walkway beneath our feet appeared to be enchanted.

Hey, lovebirds! Wait up.

We turned to see Michael and Gracie coming up from the parking lot. Gracie, too young to temper her excitement, skipped ahead, riding a wave of pure, unadulterated joy.

When we all gathered at the entrance, the host smiled with genuine warmth and led us across the patio to a table in the far corner. As we took our seats Michael looked out at the river and the night sky and said, "Tonight is definitely Una Bella Serata."

What? Gracie asked.

A lovely evening. That’s what the name means, he explained.

That is indeed correct, Signorina. We all turned to the young, dark-haired waiter who had approached our table and now stood at Gracie’s shoulder. He was a tall, slender man with only a thin wisp of hair arched over his upper lip. He bent in a deep bow and lifted Gracie’s hand.

It is made all the more beautiful due to your presence, Signorina. Now, what may I get you and your royal subjects to drink?

Gracie blushed and giggled.

Do you want a Shirley Temple? I asked, knowing full well it was always her favorite. She nodded vigorously.

Uno Shirley Temple for the Signorina, the waiter said.

With extra cherries, Gracie added.

Ah, but of course. He smiled. And what shall I get the rest of the royal family?

I laughed and ordered a bottle of champagne so that we could properly celebrate Michael’s accomplishments.

After our drinks were delivered, Jay raised his glass.

I would like to make a toast to a wonderful son and daughter and wife. I couldn’t dream of wanting anything more, except perhaps a sweet little sports car. We all laughed and Jay added, In all seriousness, Michael, we are so proud of you. Congratulations and good luck on your next adventure at UNC med school. We can’t wait to have you closer to home, son.

Sitting beside Jay, I looked at Michael and Gracie and wondered how in the world I got so lucky. In general, I try to avoid any excessive acknowledgment of the goodness in my life. I know it’s not rational, but I hold a deep, persistent belief that if I stay just under the radar of fate, I can avoid the most painful of life’s misfortunes. By remaining alert to tragedy, I somehow feel better able to elude it. Yet, as tears pooled in my eyes, I just couldn’t help myself. Perhaps it was the wine or the lovely evening or the joy in Michael’s graduation. But tonight, for whatever reason, I let go and allowed joy to blossom in all its fragrance.

When at last we leaned back so that the waiter could brush the remaining crumbs from the crisp, white tablecloth, Gracie was practically asleep in her chair.

Why don’t you and Gracie take the van back to the hotel and get her to bed. She’s exhausted. Jay suggested as he handed his credit card to the waiter and continued, Michael and I will take the Mustang to get the security deposit and then join you at the hotel. Sound good?

I nodded. Michael’s landlord had agreed to inspect his apartment while we ate dinner so that tomorrow morning we could get an early jump on the long trip home to North Carolina.

Sure, I yawned. I’m pretty weary myself. I nudged Gracie until she looked up at me through half-closed, groggy eyes.

C’mon, baby, I whispered. We’re going back now. Pretty soon you’ll be in bed, snug as a bug.

Out in the parking lot, Jay tossed the keys to Michael, Think fast, son.

They both laughed as the keys hit Michael square in the stomach and clattered down to the gravel.

You better practice, Jay teased. One day you might be a rich doctor with a cool car. Michael made a face and threw the keys back at him with a laugh.

Then, without any warning, Gracie came to life, vibrating with new-found energy.

"No, Daddy, you promised you would take me in the fancy car. Can’t you take me back to the hotel, and let Mom and Michael take the van to the apartment? Please?"

Jay smiled. Gracie had taken after him in her love of cars, especially fast ones.

That’s my girl, he said, kissing the top of her head and glancing at me to gauge my thoughts on the new plan. I shrugged and nodded. I was happy for any extra time with Michael, even if it only involved riding across town to his old apartment. Gracie ran to the Mustang and jumped into the passenger seat.

Buckle up, I called. I’m watching.

She pulled the strap over her shoulder until it clicked into place and then Jay revved the engine, causing her to giggle and give a conspiratorial thumbs-up.

Don’t be an idiot, Jay, I warned. Be safe.

I will, he smiled, and the two of them waved before Jay peeled out of the parking lot, spewing gravel and dust in their wake.

That is pretty cool, Michael conceded.

I guess. Though I was convinced that I lacked some type of gene that everyone else in my family seemed to have in excess.

When we arrived at the apartment, Michael went in while I waited in the van to avoid having to hunt for a parking spot. The landlord was running late, so it all took a bit longer than expected, but I really didn’t mind. I closed my eyes and curled into the night’s cocoon, savoring the sounds and smells carried by the breeze. At last, Michael emerged from the double doors smiling and waving a check.

Got it all back, he announced as he started the van and pulled into the road.

That’s my boy. I smiled. I’m gonna call Dad and just let him know we’re on the way so he doesn’t worry.

I fished around in the bottom of my purse until my fingers found the bulky outline of my cell phone and then my readers.

Michael laughed. Mom, we’ll be at the hotel before you get the number dialed, so I don’t know why you even bother.

Oh, hush. I just need to get organized.

Once I got my glasses in place, I called Jay. But instead of the normal ringing sound, there were three clicks and then his voice mail.

Hi…this is Jay…leave a message.

I pressed the red button and dropped my phone back into my purse.

Let the record show, I completed the call before we got to the hotel.

Duly noted. Michael nodded and signaled to change lanes. No answer?

I shook my head, Poor Gracie was so tired, and Dad had a long day too. They’re probably sound asleep already.

Once we got to the hotel, Michael found a spot in the back by the pool. We walked around to the lobby and took the elevator to our room on the 3rd floor.

Shhh, I warned as he slid the key card in. Don’t wake them.

Michael nodded and opened the door as quietly as he could. I tiptoed behind him, but as soon as we stepped into the room, we saw that the desk light was still on and both beds were empty.

That’s weird. Michael tossed his keys on the dresser and loosened his tie. I thought they’d be here before us.

I’ll try calling again, I said and sat down on the bed.

It doesn’t seem to be going through at all, I told Michael. Now there are just clicks and then nothing. Not even his voice mail.

Here, let me try. Michael took the phone from my hands. I saw his fingers move quickly across the screen before holding it to his ear and getting the same result.

Maybe they went down to the pool?

No. I shook my head. We walked by the pool coming in.

Michael moved to the window, and I knew he was searching the parking lot for the Mustang.

Where could they be? I asked, panic beginning to crawl across my chest.

Maybe they went for ice cream?

No, they didn’t, Michael, I barked, fear causing me to yell louder than intended.

Jesus, Mom. I don’t know. I’m worried, too.

I’m sorry. I’m just scared. Which way would they have taken from the restaurant?

Michael’s brow knit together in thought. I don’t know. It’s a big city, but I would have taken the Parkway – especially in the convertible.

Well, I can’t just sit here or I’ll go crazy. Let’s try it.

I handed Michael the car keys, and he quickly got us on the Parkway heading toward Bella Serata. I peered through the window, my eyes boring into the darkness and silently offered up a prayer.

As soon as we came over the bridge, traffic ground to a halt. We could see flashing lights—red, blue, white, and yellow. And there, up ahead on the left side of the roadway, crushed against the silver railing, was the dark metal of the Mustang.

Oh, my God, Michael yelled. He jumped from the car and began sprinting through the tangle of other vehicles. The lights passed over my face in a perverse kind of rhythm—first red, then blue, then white, then yellow. Red. Blue. White. Yellow. I stared numbly, almost trance-like, waiting for the nightmare to recede. Finally, I reached over and turned off the car. Then I opened the door and threw up violently on the cold, black asphalt.

CHAPTER 3

Miami, Florida

The small pub on 12th Street was getting crowded—too much so for an old man—and Eddie bid his buddies goodnight. As he stepped into the muggy Florida evening, the thick darkness seemed to swallow him. But Eddie didn’t particularly mind. He found the heat and humidity to be somehow comforting, quite like a warm blanket.

In his opinion, it was significantly better than the bitter Northern winds that stabbed at you relentlessly, leaving your eyes and lips stinging and chapped. That was the kind of cold that made you pull in on yourself just to survive. But the heat, the humidity…they allowed you to open up, throw your chest out and embrace the world. Eddie smiled to himself and, to prove his own point, pushed his chest forward and thrust his arms out in full extension as if preparing for flight.

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen a large black man with close cut gray hair and a small number of silver stragglers peeking out from his inner ear. They would have seen a dark mole just to the side of a small divot in the center of his chin. And, if he were to smile, they might even see a glint coming from the right side of his mouth, where a free care clinic put in a silver bridge after he lost four teeth in a fight with a crowbar. At first glance, he appeared to be an older gentleman, but his face was essentially unlined and his eyes sparkled with a light seen most often in children.

On this evening, Eddie wore a long, dark coat, a seemingly strange choice for such a warm night. And others might be forgiven for their wariness, for wondering if he was up to no good, and for instinctually checking the locks on their doors and their windows. After all, things—bad things—do happen. Better safe than sorry. So, yes, they could be pardoned for their misjudgments, at least this time. For how were they to know that Eddie always wore that coat? How could they possibly know that he never took it off? That it was part of his act. That it was part of him. For without the coat, there would be no Uncle Eddie. And, if there was no Uncle Eddie, there would be no more magic on the corner of 12th and Lilac.

Frequently, professional street performers take on a certain persona, something that sets them apart. Something that makes them a different sort of street man. Yet, so often, the persona they try to create turns out to be too thin, too flimsy to actually stick. They become nothing more than a third-rate cartoon character, and when the show is over, people simply turn them off.

But Eddie…Eddie was different. When the show ended, people tried to leave him behind. They would wave goodbye and toss a few bills or a handful of change in Eddie’s banjo case as a small gratuity for an evening’s entertainment.

But even after they were home, long after they tucked their children in for the night and crawled into the warmth of their own beds, they thought about the man in the long coat. They would lie awake in the dark and wonder how he really did the things they’d seen him do. It simply wasn’t possible. They would go to work the next day and, at the coffee pot, ask if their coworkers had ever seen the old black man on the corner of 12th and Lilac St. The one who called himself Uncle Eddie. Of course, their children remembered him. They forgot the jugglers and fire eaters. They forgot the guitar players. But they never forgot Uncle Eddie.

When Eddie first arrived in Florida, he chose a nondescript street corner and began alternating between picking his banjo, playing his harmonica, and performing magic tricks for passing tourists and tired commuters. On one particular day, a small crowd gathered, drawn to both the sight and sound of an old black man weaving wistful notes into the afternoon breeze.

When a baby began wailing uncontrollably, the frazzled mother rifled through her diaper bag and came away empty handed. She tried the end of her pinky finger as a substitute, but the baby wasn’t fooled and screamed even louder. At that moment, Eddie reached into one of his many coat pockets and pulled forth a brand new pacifier, still encased in its original packaging. Here you go, ma’am. A gift from ol’ Uncle Eddie.

He chuckled now at the memory of the young mother and her wide-eyed stare as she reached tentatively toward his outstretched hand. When the baby accepted the pacifier with a contented gurgle, the crowd erupted in cheers at the unexpected bit of magic they had been fortunate enough to witness.

Strolling through the darkness, whistling quietly in time with his steps, Eddie marveled at how things had turned around since his days running drugs in Atlanta and Greensboro. After two stints in Greenway County Correctional, he had come south to Florida at the recommendation of his Lumbee Indian cell mate, Fancy Clancy.

Go to Florida, Big E, Clancy urged when Eddie learned he was being released for good behavior.

Why Florida?

Cause, bro, everyone in Florida’s crazy. No one ain’t even gonna notice you.

At the time, Eddie had laughed and waved Clancy away, but he had come to Florida after all. Thinking back on it now, he shook his head with amazement and instinctively reached his hand into his pocket to comfort himself with the feel of the evening’s compensation. With his side gig at the Magic Palace in North Miami, he always had extra money, and it never ceased to amaze him how good it felt to simply touch it.

As he walked along the cracked sidewalks, past the Rent-to-Own store and the old auto parts space that was now Rita’s Diner, he was distracted by a high-pitched, persistent mewing from the alley up ahead. He stopped whistling and strained to see through the darkness, which was pierced only by a few unevenly spaced street lights.

Hey, Kitty, Kitty. Where are you, old boy? he called out.

Although his mere size seemed to indicate otherwise, Eddie was a devoted cat defender. His cellmate Clancy had two pit bulls, Cheech and Chong. Clancy claimed no man should ever be without a dog, and his lady friend would always send pictures of their two dogs, which looked to Eddie like large, snarling masses of destruction. Clancy claimed that they were sweethearts underneath, but Eddie wasn’t convinced.

He actually wished he liked dogs more, but he came by his fear honestly. As a child, his mother had sent him to the neighbor’s for a half-cup of shortening. When the door opened, a large black Doberman lunged and snarled, and Eddie fell backward down the front two steps. Nothing terrible happened. The woman grabbed the dog and smacked his nose, sending him away with a whimper. She helped Eddie up and apologized, explaining the dog was actually all bark and no bite.

He’s my son’s dog, and he’s really just a big baby, she laughed. Now, you come on in and sit a spell while I get the shortening. But Eddie declined, choosing instead to wait outside since it seemed the dog might have some bite in him after all.

Eddie never did tell his mother about the dog, but every now and again he dreamt of those snarling, pointed teeth lunging towards him. He didn’t understand why in the world anyone would welcome such an animal into their home.

Oftentimes, when neither he nor Clancy could sleep, they would have long debates over the level of intelligence in dogs versus cats.

Cats are dumb as shit, Eddie. Flat out dumb. I mean their heads are so damn small, probably ain’t even a brain in there,