Chapter Eleven

“In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: It goes on.” – Robert Frost 

Marc stood there, staring at his hand on the doorknob.  He was breathing raggedly and no matter what he did, he could not seem to will his hand to make the simple move of turning the doorknob.

“Come on, Marc, you can do this,” he told himself as he noticed that his hand was shaking.  In fact, his whole body was shaking.  “All you are doing is going into town to pick up some groceries.  You don’t know anyone, and no one knows you.  No one knows that you’re a worthless journalist whose wife manipulated the hell out of him, made a fool out of him, and then left him.  This really is simple, simple stuff.”

Still, his heart continued to pound and his hand made absolutely no move to twist the doorknob.  “Dammit!  Let’s go!”  He yelled, feeling somewhat stupid and yet strangely better.  Apparently it worked because suddenly the door was open and, before he knew what was happening, his legs had propelled him outside into the bright early November sunshine.

Chapter Twelve

"Liberty, when it begins to take root, is a plant of rapid growth." - George Washington 

Realizing that he had not even introduced himself, he smiled.  “I’m Marc, by the way.  Marc Chelios.”

The woman offered her hand.  “I’m Jennifer van Cortlandt.”

Marc took her hand, enjoying the feel of her soft skin on his own.  “A pleasure to meet you, Jennifer.”

She looked at Marc thoughtfully for a moment.  “We’re kind of in the way here.  Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee?"

Chapter Thirteen

"Green Acres is the place to be." - Oliver Wendell Douglas 

Marc had decided when he and his wife had moved out of New York City that a satellite dish system was a luxury they did not need.  Cable television was not yet available this far out of town.  And that suited Marc just fine.  He was completely happy with his local networks, getting his news and information from local reporters, and he didn’t watch television all that much anyway.  However, during nights with bouts of insomnia, when writing just was not an option, the sleepless wonder, as Marc called himself on such occasions, was forced to make due with the local offerings.  So, in the wee hours of the morning after Thanksgiving, Marc was forced to endure a Green Acres marathon on one of the local stations.

Now, here he sat, in the middle of the night, after spending a major family holiday alone, watching a marathon of an old television show, that he had realized upon listening to the opening credits of the very first episode, basically summed up his whole life.

He could just imagine singing, "Green acres is the place for me.  Farm livin' is the life for me.  Land spreadin' out so far and wide - keep Manhattan, just give me that countryside," to Darci as they packed up their Manhattan belongings in preparation for moving out to the "countryside."

Chapter Fourteen

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt 

“Wow,” Jennifer mused and then suddenly switched tracks.  “We haven’t even talked about the position or your resume thanks to my chattiness.  Not that there’s a lot that I can tell you that I haven’t already.  I’m going to swing by the newspaper offices in White Plains later this afternoon, so I thought I would drop your resume off then.  The position just became vacant, so they haven’t even advertised for it yet.  By law it has to be advertised for two weeks and the first ad is actually going to run today.  I’m not sure if the editor will want to do interviews on a rolling basis or wait until the end of the two week period, but I can promise you that yours will be the first one he sees, personally delivered by me.”

“You are wonderful to do this for me, Jennifer.  And you must have a lot of trust.  You’ve never even read a word I’ve written, and you’re willing to do this for me.  I really appreciate it,” Marc said, an earnest expression on his craggy features.

“You impressed me the other day.  When you spoke of writing you had this look of passion that really hit home with me.  Plus, I have to admit, I have read some of your work,” the young girl shyly admitted.

Chapter Fifteen

"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved." - William Jennings Bryan

With a deep breath, he clicked on the link and waited for the faculty page of Dr. Michael Kinville to load.  Unfortunately, there was no picture with the biography that filled the page, describing his research interests and ending with a list of the impressive accomplishments of the microbiologist.  However, as Marc scrolled down the page, he also found the scientist’s curriculum vitae.  Michael Kinville’s undergraduate degree in microbiology and public health was from the university Marc had gone too and granted the year that Marc and Mike had graduated.  He had found his friend.  And he had found his friend less than fifty miles from where he himself had relocated to after college.

Marc Chelios was not sure he believed in fate or karma or kismet, but he did not believe in coincidences either.  Mike Kinville was a short drive away.  Marc knew that he had to go see him.