Scented Sensibility
Page 9
Lindy wiped tears from her cheeks. “And now who’s amazing? Dara, this is phenomenal. I’m so glad you came to meet me, and I’m so glad you told me this. You’re giving me hope.”
“I’m giving you hope? How’s that?”
“You have a flicker of light deep inside you that has never gone out—it just needed to be rekindled. Darkness can’t live where there’s light, did you know that? Even the tiniest match makes the darkness go away. Even a little flicker.”
Dara looked down at the table. “I think it’s still in there.”
“I know it is. I can see it.”
The waiter brought their food and they began to eat, but Lindy couldn’t be distracted from the joy she felt inside. Dara was a sweet, beautiful girl who deserved to feel her own worth. So was Trix. So was Lindy—and so were millions of women and men who had been through the same thing.
Dara threw her head back and laughed at something Alan said, and her flicker of light grew just a bit brighter. Lindy smiled. This was a very good day.
***
Dara and Celeste hit it off the minute they laid eyes on each other, and they were engrossed in a card game when Alan reached for Lindy’s hand. “Come for a walk,” he said.
She followed him outside. “What, we haven’t been for enough walks? It doesn’t matter how many times we come out here—I’m never going to use the fire hydrant.”
He laughed. “I don’t want you to use the fire hydrant. I want to talk to you, but it’s so hospital-like in there.”
“Probably because it’s a hospital.”
“Exactly. And so we’re out here.”
He led her around to the back of the hospital, where there were a few trees planted around a stone bench. “You’re right, you know,” he said as they sat down. “This whole Sense and Sensibility thing. You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” she replied. “Wait. Just how am I right?”
“You and the rain. You’re Marianne. You both have an unhealthy penchant for getting yourself thoroughly soaked.”
“But I didn’t nearly die because of it,” Lindy pointed out.
“I appreciate that, but there’s another similarity. It was the rainstorm that brought Colonel Brandon and Marianne closer together, and it was during the rainstorm that I realized just how very much I love you.”
Lindy’s heart thudded. “You love me?”
“Yes. There you were, drenched, looking like a drowned rat, and I realized that I’m in love with you. You’re my Marianne, I’m glad we ditched Willoughby, and I want to be your Colonel Brandon. Now, I’m not as perfect as he is, so don’t get your hopes up. I’ve been on my very best behavior around you, but Dara tells me I have a terrible temper when it comes to losing board games. We should get that out in the open so you know what you’re getting into.”
“Hmm. I like winning board games too. This might be a problem.”
“But only if we let it be.” Alan slid down onto one knee. “Lindy, I love you. I love everything about you. Your strengths, your weaknesses which have become your strengths—all of you. I want to cheer you on through vet school and be by your side as you open your practice. I want to love you all the days of my life. May I?”
Lindy took a deep breath. She knew that if she answered now, her voice would squeak, and that wouldn’t be good at all.
“There’s something you need to know first,” she said.
“Anything. It won’t make a difference.”
“Yes, I think it will. Alan, I’m a college dropout.”
He looked confused. “What?”
“That’s right. I called this morning and told them—I’m dropping out. I’m a disgrace to my family and to my college professor mother. I can never hold my head up high again.”
“And . . . you dropped out . . . why?”
“So I can be business partners with my aunt.” She grinned. “She called her lawyer, and he’s drawing up the papers right now. I’m going to run the place, she’s going to teach me all the little ins and outs I don’t know, and down the road, she’ll step back and I’ll be the sole proprietor. I can’t even tell you how excited I am about it.”
Alan grinned. “This is so great. That’s where you belong, Lindy—I see it all over you when you’re there.”
“I know it’s where I belong. I just wish I’d figured it out a lot sooner.”
“Okay. Let’s try this again.” Alan cleared his throat. “Lindy, I love you. I love everything about you. I want to cheer you on as you run your aunt’s business and be by your side as you stick labels on bottles. May I?”
“Yes,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes, and yes, and yes.”
“Ribs,” he cried out.
“Ooops. Sorry.”
As she helped him up from his knee and guided him to sit next to her on the bench, she had thirty seconds to kill while she waited for him to get his breath back, and in those thirty seconds, she realized all over again just how very lucky she was.
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About Amelia C. Adams
Amelia C. Adams is a wife, a mother, an eater of tacos, and a taker of naps. She spends her days thinking up stories and her nights writing them down. Her biggest hero is her husband, and you just might see bits and pieces of him as you read her novels.
You can reach her at ameliaadamsauthor@gmail.com.
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