The Instruments Of Life (The Symphony Of Life Book 2)

Book summary

"In The Instruments Of Life," readers follow Kaley's inspiring journey as a successful writer who explores cherished friendships, a newfound connection, and the challenges of a tumultuous love life. Amidst professional triumphs, Kaley faces grief and trauma, learning to cope with life's ups and downs. As her play becomes a reality in New York, Kaley confronts personal demons in this captivating sequel that portrays growth, love, and resilience in the face of life's trials.

Excerpt from The Instruments Of Life (The Symphony Of Life Book 2)

Another busy day, I have a series of stories appearing in a magazine. My deadlines for the drafts are due this afternoon. I have so much to shuffle to keep my career and this house functioning. Nevertheless, I make do.

Not too long ago, I’d signed publishing contracts for five of my stories. The first one scheduled to be published is titled, Her Laugh Broke The Silence.

The story allows the reader to explore the mind of what a therapist thinks about during a therapy session. I’d gotten the idea while sitting in my own therapy sessions.

Within a month of submission, the magazine responded with an acceptance letter and asked if I would submit more of my stories to them. I sent in four others I’d previously written. I’m in the process of finishing the edits for Her Laugh Broke The Silence today.

Monica helps me with my writing. She thinks a break is coming my way.

My college classes and tutoring the women at the prison also help me when it comes to my own writing. Monica has turned that position over to me since she’s begun to teach more classes at the university.

She’s busy, I’m busy, and we keep Carrie busy. In true retrospect, we’ve a busy household.

To my dismay, Carrie, Monica’s daughter, has come down with the flu. I check on her throughout the day to make sure she’s taken care of. In between, I work on my deadlines.

“Kaley!” Carrie hollers from upstairs. “Can you bring me an orange juice?”

It’s been long day already. She’s suffering from a fever of a hundred and two. I can’t leave her in the bedroom to fend for herself.

I save what I’m working on and stand, making my way to the kitchen. Rummaging through the refrigerator, I grab the carton of orange juice and shut the door, moving toward the counter. I grab a cup and fill it with juice before stowing the carton in the fridge. I then head back upstairs in the direction of Carrie’s room.

“Here you are, Carrie. How do you feel?” I ask, handing her the cup.

She accepts the offering and takes a small sip. “Better. Are you writing?”

“Yes, I have an upcoming deadline.”

“Sorry to disturb you. Thanks for the juice.”

I nod at her and smile, ruffling her hair before making my way back downstairs. I sit in front of the computer and reopen the document. I’m working on the last of the submission when the phone rings.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Kaley Baby. How’s it going?” Monica asks.

“Hello, hon. I’m writing.”

“I wanted to tell you I’ll be late this evening. Gerard is coming over to cut the grass.”

“OK, Monica. I’ll be watching for him,” I say before setting the receiver back onto its cradle.

I wish she’d hire another gardener. Gerard is gorgeous. He and Monica flirt every time he comes over, which makes me jealous.

She admits to flirting with him whenever possible. I’ve even asked her if he comes on to her, would she sleep with him? Monica says no, but I doubt it.

I tend to worry about things that usually never happen. Often, I create scenarios when it feels like I’m losing control. I tell myself over and over that she loves me and wants me in her life.

Distracted, time flies by. I haven’t gotten most of my work done. To top it all off, I have to listen to Gerard run the lawnmower all afternoon. The mower is the noisiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.

My mind wanders. I wonder if Monica is more straight than gay.

Is there even such a thing?

Perhaps, I’m doubting myself. I definitely like sleeping with Monica better than any man, but being with a man doesn’t gross me out. Either way, I’m in a relationship with a woman, so doesn’t that make me a lesbian? Or am I bisexual and happen to love a woman?

The mere thought confuses me. I’ve never loved anyone like I love her. When we’d first kissed, I’d felt alive for the first time. My heart had beat so hard. I’d never experienced it before. I’d realized being with her felt right.

I want to live each day with her to the fullest. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a relationship. Granted, there had been a couple of flings and several dates after Roscoe, but they’d never been anything serious.

With Monica being out of town so much, it’s almost like I’m not with her. When Carrie is at school, I enjoy going to the river with my laptop to write.

Many times, I’ll jot my feelings down in my journal. It’s interesting how I see patterns in my feelings once I have them down on paper. A recurrent pattern I’ve noticed as I read through my journal is an underlying fear of self-sabotage.

My experience has always been what comes around goes around. When I’d gotten married to Roscoe, I never loved him like I should have. He’d been a means for me to escape my mother’s evil clutches and the store. I hadn’t been honest with him when he’d asked me if I’d been happy and if I loved him. Now, I have a relationship I think might crash and burn as payback for my past dishonesty. Many times, I’ve self-sabotaged myself by ending something I’d felt would end anyway.

Monica loves and wants to be with me, but I can’t help wondering if she finds my presence convenient while she shuffles her careers. We were friends before we were lovers. She’d shared many things with me she wouldn’t have if she’d known we’d end up being a couple.

She’s told me of lovers in several towns. That perhaps she’d gotten into relationships so someone could take care of things at home while she travels. She says I’m different from the others. Nevertheless, the thought that I’m a girl of convenience lives at the back of my mind.

How our relationship plays out is something I take into consideration often. This is the happiest I’ve ever been.

I should have admitted to myself I was a lesbian years ago. I’d always known it, but I’d buried it somewhere in my brain where I couldn’t or wouldn’t let the thought be revealed. Better late than never, I suppose.

My mind circles back to this morning when Monica called to let me know she’d made it to her book signing in Albuquerque. I know she has an ex-flame named Reggie in that city.

Before she’d taken Carrie in, she’d lived there for a while to be with him. After a year, she’d moved back here to West Memphis.

I wish I could say I’m good at relationships, but I’m not. My insecurities get the best of me. Life, in general, is scary. When relationships fall into the mix, it magnifies my fears.

In the past, I’d doubted my ability in writing. Thanks to Monica, I now have confidence. After selling the store, I’d realized I could do other things. Since then, I’ve resolved those issues, even though there are now a host of new ones.

I believe a relationship is something a person should want, not need. I want this relationship, though I don’t need it. I’ve known what it’s like to be alone, since I’ve spent most of my life that way.

Monica needs relationships. She wants them more than I do.

Neither my parents, nor hers were the best role models to teach us about relationships. My parents’ relationship sucked. Mom bossed Daddy around and screamed at him all the time. There’s also the fact that she left him for Bertha, causing him to kill her and die in prison for the crime. My role models were lacking, to say the least.

***

Not too long ago, I’d asked the women in the class I tutor to write a story about a relationship. They have interesting things to say in what they write. It never ceases to amaze me how much I learn from their writing.

A huge relationship scenario in prison is what they call, gay for the stay. Many of these women aren’t gay. They share their feelings with each other and act like lesbians while they do their time.

Many of the stories they’ve written for this assignment are about their girlfriends or prison wives. The relationships in their particular situations are sometimes the results of protection. An inmate will protect the other if she becomes her bitch.

These women share their thoughts and feelings, developing a bond. Some of them are actually lesbians and love their prison wives, however.

This assignment has been interesting to say the least. One woman has written about her sexual encounter with her girlfriend. How she’d seduced her and the feelings she has as they make love. Her partner is also in this same class.

We’ve gotten to live their sexual experiences through their eyes. These women know I can relate to them since I’m a lesbian, too.

Everyone I know seems to have a relationship that’s working out. Mary and her husband, Bobby, are doing well. They’re both as strange as cuckoo birds. If somebody can put up with Mary’s weirdness, then there’s hope for everyone.

Ray and his wife have celebrated over sixty years of marriage. I want a relationship like theirs, and I hope it’s with Monica.

Shaking my head to clear it, I focus on my writing. Despite the constant interruptions, I’m determined in rewriting my story before its deadline arrives.