"Janelle? You're my sister and I love you dearly, but please, please, please stop trying to set me up! You know how much I loved being a police officer's wife, but I just can't date another cop. Ever. Okay?"
"Okay. Fine. It's just that it's been over two years since..." She still couldn't bring herself to say since her brother-in-law David had been killed in the line of duty so she always avoided saying anything about death or dying. "Since we...lost David."
"Janelle, people grieve and heal differently. Maybe some women can date six months or a year after the loss of their husband, but I can't. Even after two years I wasn't ready to date. I'm just now at the point where I've been able to try again and the few times I've tried it's been pretty awful. Look, I hate when we argue about this and I know you're only doing what you think is best for your big sister, but could you please give it a rest?"
Vikki Englund (nee Jones) really had loved being married to David. He was not only a ruggedly handsome man, he was completely dedicated to his job and to the community he loved and served with so much pride. They'd dated in high school then broken up when she went away to college and hadn't communicated once in over four years to include the many times she'd come home for various breaks. Both of them dated other people but neither of them got serious with anyone else.
When she graduated, she returned home to stay but had no luck finding a job she liked and ended up working as a flight attendant for United Airlines. She moved back in with her parents in Kent, Washington, a modest-sized town just south of Seattle, until she could find a place of her own.
In fact, she as out looking for an apartment the day they ran into each other again. Well, she hadn't actually run into him, he'd pulled her over for speeding. She was in a hurry trying to look at an apartment on her way to work and she was furious when she saw the blue lights flashing. She pulled the car to the side of the road then immediately got out her license and registration just as the officer asked her for them. She didn't even look up as she stuck them out the window.
"Vikki? Vikki Jones? Oh, my God! How are you?" he said as he took her documents.
She recognized the voice and finally looked up at the police officer. "David?" she asked incredulously.
He tapped his badge and said with that smile she'd always loved, "That's Officer Englund to you, ma'am."
She almost jumped out of the car and hugged him. "Oh, my goodness. I haven't seen you in so long! And look at you all handsome in your uniform!" she'd told him truthfully and with genuine admiration.
"Thanks, Vikki, but you were speeding," he said flashing that smile at her again.
Playing along she said in her best Scarlett O'Hara voice, "Oh, officer. I'd do anything to get out of this ticket." She batted her eyes and played coy until David laughed.
He handed her back her license and registration and said, "So you'll have dinner with me then?"
Suddenly, Vikki got very serious and said, "Of course, I will. I'd love to have dinner with you, David."
Vikki was amazed at the way it seemed like they'd never been apart during that first date and four months later she accepted his proposal and married him the following spring in a large, formal, church wedding with all of their family and friends in attendance. They honeymooned in Cancun then came back to Kent to start their lives together. That had been just over 13 years ago.
Vikki had indeed loved being a police officer's wife, but most of all she loved being married to David. Truth be told, it was even more basic than that. Vikki loved being married. It was just a huge bonus that it was to her high school sweetheart. She missed everything about being married from the daily routine to the dependable familiarity that came from living with someone you shared everything with and who knew everything about you and loved you in spite of it to the lovemaking with that special someone. It was so pleasant and so comfortable and so...pleasantly predictable. Some people craved adventure and spontaneity. Vikki craved stability and like most women—love and romance—and David offered her all three of those things and she did her best to provide them to him.
They'd both wanted children, but David couldn't have them. His swimmers were strong, there just weren't enough of them, meaning it was extremely unlikely she'd ever get pregnant. But any odds that weren't 'zero' only meant the probability was low, not that it was impossible, so no matter how small the chance, they'd wanted to maximize whatever opportunity might exist. She'd even quit her job to try and be home anytime was she ovulating—just in case.
Not getting pregnant definitely wasn't due to any lack of trying. Vikki missed making love almost as much as she missed David and the loneliness sometimes became unbearable. Even so, she'd only recently started dating—-and well—masturbating again. For the entire first year, she couldn't even think about sex or men or anything but missing her husband. And then one evening she found herself laying awake in a kind of dreamy haze imagining him on top of her and at some point her hand managed to find its way to a place it hadn't visited in a very long time. Since then, she'd occasionally been able to fantasize again even if it was always and only about David. She still ached for him. The sound of his voice, his beautiful smile, the sounds of him working out in their little home gym, the sight of him coming home each day in his uniform and then later on in a suit once he'd made detective.
And then in an instant, it all came crashing down. He and his partner were looking into a possible meth lab location in an old, abandoned house in the worst part of the city when they cornered the cook—the meth maker himself, and his distributor, inside with a ton of product ready for sale. The cook threw up his hands immediately but the distributor had opened fire on David and his partner. David had been shot three times with a 44 magnum. Two of them hit his protective vest and had that been it, he'd have lived with nothing more than a cracked sternum. But the fatal shot entered just above the vest and the chief of police told her he'd been killed him instantly.
Vikki still cried every time she thought about those final moments and what he might have felt. In spite of what she'd been told she couldn't stop wondering things like: Did he have time for any last thoughts? Were they of her? Did he suffer? She was tearing up just thinking about it as she heard Janelle saying something.
"I know I said I'd stop, but will you at least listen to one more idea? Please?"
"Oh, my God, Janelle! Are you serious? The last guy you set me up with was almost fifty years old, for crying out loud. I don't have daddy issues, okay? I told you my limit is five years older to five years younger. In fact, I could even maybe go out with someone between 30 and 45 but those are my absolute limits. Got it? And while I'm on a roll here, can you stop with the 'really nice guy' thing? Seriously. What is that? Code for nerd or really unattractive?"
It was as if her sister hadn't heard a word. "Okay, listen. There's this really great guy at work—he's an accountant." Vikki rolled her eyes, but Janelle plowed ahead. "I showed him some pics of you and he's very interested."
