by Amelia Star
Once I’ve gotten a signal from everyone that they’re ready, I rush to the restroom and change into a shirt and tie like I was wearing the night when Hailey and I went to Luigi’s.
After I’m looking spiffy, I peek out the men’s room door. I can hear Hailey at the front station, talking to the hostess about how the evening went.
I step out of the men’s room, and Hailey sees me. She gives me a quizzical look, and at that moment, the servers and staff come out of the kitchen. The girl in the front is carrying the portable stove-top that we use for Delicious for You’s signature Bourbon Shrimp Flambé. But tonight, I’m going to use that portable stove-top for another reason.
Hailey gives me a look that tells me she’s rather baffled by what’s going on, and I step toward her and hold out my hand before she can say anything. “My love, please, give me another chance.”
A tiny smile is tilting up at the corners of her mouth. I can tell she’s wondering what’s going to come next. But her eyes are still looking at me carefully, making sure I mean what I say.
I walk her to a table, and the servers follow with the portable stove-top and all the ingredients I’ll need on a tray—the bananas, the rum, and the ice cream.
Once Hailey is seated at a table near the window, I begin melting the butter with sugar, orange zest, and split vanilla bean in the skillet. While I work, I talk. “First of all, I want to apologize. I was way out of line when I dismissed what you were saying yesterday. Instead of listening to your words and understanding what they really meant, I just made my own nonsensical claims that had nothing to do with you at all.”
Hailey shifts in her seat, considering.
I’ve got to get this right–I’m only going to get one chance and I don’t want to blow it.
The sugar is caramelized now, so I lay the split banana in the skillet carefully. “We only get one life to live, my love.”
Once the bananas are glazed and golden, it’s time for the magic. “We’re put on this earth at some random place and time, and we live our lives the best way we can,” I say while heating the sauce to the burn point where it ignites. “This is how I feel when I’m with you. My whole soul burns for you.”
As the flame subsides, I turn off the burner and swoosh the dessert into a serving dish, then put a few scoops of ice cream on top. I place the dish on the table in front of my woman, and risking it, lift Hailey’s alabaster hand in my ebony hand. “We’re here together now, Hailey. And I hope we can be together for the rest of our lives.”
The aroma of the sweet fruit wafts through the air. I pull her close and whisper in her ear, “You are the woman for me, Hailey. I knew it from the first moment I saw you.”
“Oh Ted,” Hailey smiles. “How can I resist your perfect offering of love?”
With that, I kiss her full on her lush red lips, and someone pops the cork on a bottle of sparkling wine.
Hailey hugs me tight, “You are the most delicious man ever.” She leans in close to me.
I kiss her slowly, and everyone oohs and aahs.
“Let’s show this crowd how to devour a Bananas Foster,” I croon to my love.
And someone brings out a cake, and the party begins.
EPILOGUE–HAILEY–Two Years Later
After Ted surprised me that night at Delicious for You, the fun really began. We started going out more often, having picnics all over St. Louis in little off-the-beaten-path places. One week, Ted would prepare a meal for me, and the next I would prepare the meal for him. Then we’d go to either his or my place, until finally we decided to get a place where we could cook together. By that time, Ted had also started helping with managing Delicious for You.
And by the next year, we decide to get married.
Before the ceremony, we also decide to get matching mirror-image tattoos on our mirror-image scars. You should have seen the look on the tattooist’s face when he saw how similar they were. Just like everyone else who sees our scars, he decided we were destined to be together.
So that’s what we get tattooed on our shoulders–Hailey and Ted–Destined for Love, with the words enclosed in a heart.
It’s a beautiful day at the Pagoda Circle in Forest Park when Ted and I marry. We hold a small ceremony on the small beautiful island with the pagoda surrounded by so many wildflowers.
After the ceremony, we have a celebration not far from the park–dinner and dancing. At the party, everyone wants to see our tattoos.
It’s early on in the night, and the Rosewood gang are all on the dance floor when I notice Sarah’s friend Alicia dancing with a group of kids from the center. Sean introduced her to them recently, since she’s going to start painting the recreation room at the center in a few weeks.
It’s so cute to watch Alicia with the kids. She’s made up a funny dance, and they’re following along with her and having a blast.
Soon, one of the children’s parents joins in to help lead the fun.
“Looks like Mr. Davis has got some moves on him,” I observe.
Ted looks over my shoulder while we dance to see what’s going on. “I don’t think Micah is as interested in teaching that dance to the kids as much as he is just interested in getting closer to Alicia.”
We smile at each other and wonder where that will go.
Then the band starts the song that tells everyone it’s time to play limbo. The pole is brought out, and the kids take turns seeing who can go the lowest to bend backwards under the pole without hitting it.
The lower the pole goes, the more everyone holds their breath–then either sighs and commiserates after a child knocks the pole off the stand, or claps after they make it safely.
So the night goes on–everyone has fun. I throw my bouquet and Ted throws my garter–and no one is surprised by who catches them. Alicia and Micah start dancing together immediately.
There’s so much happening, and Ted and I have so many people to catch up with–friends and family who traveled a long way to be here.
By the time Ted and I make our escape, it’s almost midnight.
We turn to each other in the backseat of our honeymoon limo and smile. We’re on our way to a hotel, but in the morning we’re off to Venice–to wine and dine on the best Italian foods for the next week.
Ted takes me in his arms. “My wife, the woman I love,” he says and kisses me long and deep.
It’s the first time he’s called me his wife, and joy fills me like warm sunshine. I never thought I would be so happy, but Ted has changed my life and nothing will ever be the same.
Harvest Love
A Sweet and Steamy Short Story Romance
Rosewood Romances Book 4
by Amelia Star
ONE – ALICIA
“What part of the mural will you work on tonight?” Leslie asks, standing back from the wall in the recreation room of Rosewood Community Center, seriously considering the success of my work so far. She’s the only child left here—all the other parents have already been by to pick up their children. Leslie is a smart little girl, and always has a hundred questions to ask.
“There’s going to be a family of bunnies right here.” With my paintbrush, I indicate the area of the wall near the door to the kitchen. The rest of the wall so far is covered with light sketches—I’ll be filling them in with more images of animals, kids doing yoga and meditating, and things like flowers and trees.
“Good choice,” Leslie nods, her black pigtails bobbing up and down, then turns when she hears Ted call her name.
“Your daddy is going to be here in a minute, Leslie. Go get your sweater, munchkin. It’s getting cold outside.”
Leslie skips off to the coatroom, and Ted approaches me, then stops in front of my work. “This is really going to look great when it’s done.” He holds his dark hands at his hips, pondering what he sees.
“I hope so. It will take a few weeks, since I can only come in during the evenings. But it will be a nice break from painting builder’s beige in living rooms and dining ro
oms during the days.” I dip my brush in a small can of gray paint, and get started on the first bunny.
Painting murals is not really my life’s dream as an artist, but it’s closer to my dream than painting the interior of houses, which I’ve been doing for the last ten years to support myself. Abstract landscapes are really what I love and dream of focusing on someday. I just have to be patient, I keep telling myself, and eventually I’ll have a studio of my own. But patience isn’t one of my strongest character traits. That’s partly why I started painting years ago—it helps me focus and keep calm when life doesn’t go the way I expected it to go.
While I work on the bunnies, Ted and I talk about how his honeymoon in Venice with Hailey went. “Oh, we had a killer time. The food there is incredible.” Ted describes how he and Hailey are adapting some of the recipes they picked up in Italy to add to the menu at their restaurant, Delicious for You.
“You should come over and try some of them out sometime,” Ted suggests.
“Sounds good,” I say, though I’m thinking the pasta is not exactly what my curves need.
Soon, Leslie skips back over to us. Seeming confused but excited, she asks, “Why is my daddy picking me up today? Did something happen with my mom?”
“No, munchkin, something just came up at work that she had to take care of,” Ted explains.
While Ted fills in Leslie on the situation with her mom, I glance back at the door into the recreation room just long enough to catch a glimpse of someone I recognize. Wearing a suit and tie, he’s tall and wide-shouldered, with intense brown eyes and skin the color of brown late autumn leaves. Suddenly, the warm colors of autumn are glowing inside my heart. I remember how I felt the night I met this man at Ted and Hailey’s wedding—happy and carefree, as if all the possibilities of life were opening before me.
He gazes at me intensely. Then, a split-second later, his face breaks out in a smile.
“Alicia?” Micah asks in a happy tone. “How have you been doing?”
Before I can say anything, Leslie steps forward and lets her father know, “She’s doing great, daddy! She’s painting the rec room. You can see the bears on the other end she finished yesterday. Today, she’s going to finish the bunnies!”
Micah crouches down to look his daughter in the eye and give her a big hug. I feel a melting sensation in my core, and find myself wishing that I was the one getting a big hug from him also.
“Is she really?” Micah asks his daughter, and glances up at me, his dark eyes intensely looking me over in my paint-spattered smock. “I bet she’s going to do a beautiful job.”
Micah stands. He looks just as sharp and athletic as he did the night we danced together. “You remember me? From the wedding?” he asks. His daughter holds his hand, dancing around him in half-circles.
“I sure do, Micah,” I say and set my brush on the paint can, then pick up a cloth to try to wipe my hands with. “You were the one who insisted we play limbo with the kids. That was so fun, seeing you out there with them, cheering them on to go lower and lower under the pole.”
“Yeah, guilty as charged.” He laughs. “I got some good pics of you with Leslie that I should show you sometime.”
“Daddy, Alicia is the one who caught Hailey’s bouquet, isn’t she?” Leslie puts her sweater on. “And that means she’s supposed to get married next, doesn’t it?”
I can feel my pale skin flushing, so I’m sure I must be bright pink. That Micah also caught the garter thrown by Ted flashes into my memory. Still, there’s no reason for me to be so embarrassed—the idea of me becoming a bride is about as unlikely as my chances of becoming a full-time artist at this point in time. “Oh, it’s just a superstition,” I tell Micah’s daughter.
Ted smiles mischievously, noticing my embarrassment. “It could mean anything, munchkin. Let’s go get your crafts projects together so that you can take them home tonight.”
Leslie shrugs. “Okay, Ted.”
Ted takes her hand, and she skips alongside him, asking twenty questions all the way to the crafts room, leaving Micah and me alone in front of my unfinished mural.
“Kids say the funniest things,” I remark.
“They say whatever they are thinking,” Micah observes, looking at me with deep intensity. I can tell where Leslie gets her questioning nature. Her father impresses me as someone who is always thinking—he may not be as impulsive as his daughter, but I can practically see the gears turning in a thought-bubble over his head before he speaks again.
“Go out with me Saturday, Alicia.”
He reaches out and takes my hand. I feel so warm and relaxed, as if we were sitting in front of a glowing fire. But the fire I feel is burning inside me.
Then I remember and pull my hand away. “Oh, Micah. Ummm, you might not want to hold my hand now. I kind of have paint all over me.”
“I don’t care,” he insists, taking both my hands this time. “You look so beautiful. I remember how you looked that night you caught the bouquet and I caught the garter.”
As soon as he says it, I feel the rush in my heart that I felt when the bouquet landed in my hands. We’d danced the rest of the night away with our little prizes, but then we never exchanged numbers so we could contact each other later. And now here he was asking—or practically demanding—that I go out with him. “Where will we go? Will you need to get someone to watch your daughter?”
“Oh, no, that’s not a problem.” Micah furrows his brow slightly. “She’s usually with her mother here in town. I live across the river and teach chemistry and coach football at Larsden High School. I’ve got four classes full of kids, and a whole team to watch over.” He smiles almost proudly, and I get the feeling this is a man who takes his teaching and coaching responsibilities seriously.
“Okay, so it sounds like you have a pretty full plate. How will you fit me in?”
Micah squeezes my hands. “You tell me what you want, and I’ll make it happen.”
“Well, lucky for you, I’m a woman with clear-cut tastes. How about if we go to the Art Museum tomorrow, the one in Forest Park.”
Micah grins like a man who just won the game for his team. “I think I can make that happen.”
At that moment, Ted and Leslie enter the rec room. Carefully carrying a paper bag, she calls to her father, “I got my crafts projects, Daddy! Take me home and I will show them to you.”
Micah takes the bag from his daughter. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s get going now.”
I watch them moving toward the door together and see how Leslie even walks with the same agile gait as her father.
Ted, who will be staying at the center with me while I paint tonight, notices me looking at them. “You know, it wasn’t so long ago that my mom caught the bouquet and my dad caught the garter at a wedding. They went out after that, and the rest is history.”
“Is that right?” I ask and turn to face the family of bunnies I’m painting. I know it’s superstitious of me, but I add, “I guess those traditions have a reason for being continued.”
TWO – MICAH
“I hate to admit how long it’s been since I’ve been here,” I confess as we slowly make our way through the last gallery for today’s visit, the Modernist section of the St. Louis Art Museum.
“Well, to tell the truth, it’s been awhile for me, too,” Alicia says. We turn the corner, and she catches her breath. “Oh my gosh, I remember that painting. Wow. It’s one I always felt drawn to. Rosalind Fargo’s Landscape with House.” She steps up closer to examine it. I can’t help but admire her pale skin and her shape against the large, bright canvas. Her short, brown hair with its asymmetrical style, and full figure in jeans and a sapphire, form-fitting sweater—she looks like she could walk into that fun painting and fit right in.
It’s an abstract piece with colorful patches and a central spiraling structure that resembles some sort of whimsical home. That picture is something I could relate to, even as a child.
“You like this one?” I ask. I step up ne
xt to her, looking at the painting closer also.
“Oh, my, yes. I remember the first time I saw it, on a fieldtrip in junior high. I looked at this funny house in the middle of a bright, happy field of color and said to myself—yes, that’s where I want to live someday.” She laughs a little, and I can tell there’s a story behind her words. But I won’t push her on it.
“Well, I remember this painting myself,” I say. “But I never thought of the spiral house as a place I would live someday. I always thought of it as a place I would travel to and visit sometime.” I tilt my head, and try to remember how old I was when I first saw this artwork.
“Amazing how two people can look at the same picture and see something completely different.” Alicia leans toward me as she speaks.
I can’t resist. I reach out and take one of her hands, and a feeling of power and strength rushes through me. Always having prided myself on my logical approach to life, I never imagined I would be intrigued by an artist. But Alicia has a unique way of looking at the world, and I like that. I feel ready to tackle anything for this woman.
“Well, if you think about it, we’re looking at the painting pretty much the same way—we both want to get to the house. You wanted to stay there though. Maybe we can find it together someday.” I face her and lift her chin. “You deserve to have the home of your dreams.”
She smiles and admits, “Well, actually, I pretty much have the home of my dreams now. It just needs a little more fixing up and it will be perfect.”
“Oh, really? Tell me about it,” I say as I start guiding her toward the exit.
As we move through the stately marble hallways, she tells me how she moved into her friend Serena’s house after she married a gardener who had already fixed up the place. “I’m getting all sorts of cabbage and broccoli now. It’s great to just go out on the patio and do oils of the vegetables, or even go into the woods across the field and do some painting there.”
