The Funny Thing about Love: Feel Good Sweet Romance stories

by Laura Burton

  “Oh, she’s amazing.”

  “Could that be the problem?”

  “What, exactly?”

  “You like her.”

  “Of course I like her. I like all of my characters, but it has never made a difference before. They still die in the end. The million-dollar-question is... why can’t I kill her?”

  “Maybe not,” Charles said, and Victorine glanced at him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe the real question isn’t why you can’t kill her,” he suggested. “Maybe it’s... why won’t you let her live?”

  “Well, I told you—”

  “The writer’s award, yes. But what’s the deeper reason?” he asked. “Why did you start killing your characters to begin with? Perhaps understanding that can help you figure out what changed.”

  Victorine had never thought about it like that. It was an interesting theory.

  “Take the next exit,” Charles added. “The hospital should be to the right.”

  After following the signs for the emergency room, Victorine managed to find a parking spot safely away from all other cars. As they walked into the lobby, she escaped into the restroom to freshen up while Charles talked to the receptionist.

  Victorine splashed some water on her face and when she looked up, she jumped at the sight of Daniel standing behind her.

  “Road trip, huh?” He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall next to her. “Was that an attempt to get rid of me?”

  Victorine let out a frustrated sigh. “I am not in the mood to argue,” she grumbled, grabbing a paper towel and drying her face. “But if it makes you feel any better, I do intend to give her the most dignified death of them all.”

  “You’re a monster.” Victorine rolled her eyes and walked away from him. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to pee.” But just as she locked the stall, Daniel appeared in front of her in the cramped space. “Daniel!”

  “How could you think that would make me feel better?”

  Victorine pinned him to the stall with a glare. “You need to learn boundaries.”

  “And you need to thaw your heart—” Victorine covered Daniel’s mouth as she heard someone walk into the restroom. “They can’t hear me,” Daniel spoke into her hand, his voice muffled, but Victorine shushed him anyway.

  “Hi, honey. I’m okay.” It was the voice of an older woman. Sounded like she was on the phone. “It was those old steps at the back of the house... No, you don’t have to fix them… Fine, then I’ll cook you dinner. Oh, I can still move just fine… yes, even for that position.” She giggled like a teenager, and Daniel’s eyes widened, making Victorine’s cheeks burn. “Sorry, I can’t do it tonight. I know… I’m gonna miss you, too.”

  The toilet flushed and Victorine noticed Daniel’s foot on the lever. She glared at him while he flashed her an annoying smile. After smacking his head and pushing him behind her, she pulled the door open and walked out. The older woman stopped talking and Victorine felt her cheeks flush. She walked toward the sink, avoiding eye contact, and started to wash her hands.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” the older woman said, hanging up the phone and taking the sink next to Victorine. She washed only one of her hands since the other one was wrapped in a cast, then she looked at Victorine’s reflection in the mirror. “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I have to be boring, right?” Victorine wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but then the older woman laughed. “I was talking about dancing, in case you were wondering.”

  “I wasn’t thinking anything,” Victorine replied, rinsing the rest of the soap off her hands. After she dried them with a paper towel, she followed the older woman out, only to find Charles standing outside the door.

  “There you are, Nonna,” Charles said in greeting, and the older woman beamed.

  “Charlie!” She wrapped him in a tight hug, pulling him down to her five-foot-two height. When he pulled back, he looked at Victorine.

  “Nonna, this is Victorine, a friend of mine.”

  His grandmother turned around with the same beaming smile. “Oh, how pretty!” She was still addressing Charles. “It’s about time you stopped pining for that witch and found yourself a nice girl.”

  “I was never pining,” Charles grumbled as a nurse approached.

  “Mrs. Wiseman, you really shouldn’t be on your feet.”

  “I’m fine,” his grandmother replied, brushing the nurse off. “I didn’t fall because I’m old, honey. I fell because my patio steps were broken.”

  The nurse gave Charles a pleading look and he turned to his grandmother. “Stop giving them a hard time, Nonna. They want to keep you overnight for observation and I’m gonna need you to behave.”

  “Fine,” she replied without any resistance, and the nurse gave Charles a baffled look. She had been giving them a hard time all day. “You both go ahead…” Nonna waved Charles and Victorine off as she started back to her room. “Go enjoy yourselves. Be loud. You have my blessing.”

  Be loud?

  Victorine looked at Charles and, for the first time, caught him blushing. “Sorry about that,” he said, stopping short of his grandmother’s room. “She can be a handful sometimes.”

  Victorine chuckled. “I can see that.”

  Charles shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Let me go say good night and let her know I’ll come back for her in the morning.”

  Victorine nodded, suddenly realizing she never got to pee.

  As they pulled into the driveway, Charles turned off the car and stared at his grandmother’s house. Her Victorian-style porch wrapped around the front with a gorgeous swing by the window, but that wasn’t what he was looking at.

  “What’s wrong?” Victorine asked, noticing the tension on his arm as he grabbed the steering wheel.

  “I think I saw someone upstairs,” he whispered, unbuckling his seatbelt.

  “Okay?”

  Charles glanced at Victorine with a concerned expression. “If anyone else was staying here, Nonna would’ve told me. And there’s no other car parked nearby.”

  “Oh.” Victorine suddenly mirrored his concern. “Do you think someone broke in?”

  “Stay here.” He jumped out of the car, and without thinking, she followed after him.

  “Are you insane?” she whispered, following him around the back of the house. “We should call the cops.”

  “Grab your phone and get ready to dial,” he whispered in reply as they reached the back porch. But instead of looking toward the house, he was staring at something in the yard.

  “What?” Victorine asked, following his gaze.

  “When did my grandmother get a hot tub?”

  “Charles, focus.”

  “Right.” He shook off the distraction then reached for a potted plant by the wooden steps. When he lifted it, he seemed disappointed to find it empty.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Whoever’s up there took the spare key.” He tiptoed around Victorine and reached for a hidden baseball bat underneath the patio. “Stay behind me.”

  “Just so you know, this is exactly what happens before a character dies,” she hissed, grabbing onto his polo shirt. “What if he has an ax?”

  “I would be more concerned if he had a gun.”

  “Nonsense. A gun is too predictable.”

  Charles lowered the bat and looked at her. “Right... because that’s exactly what he’s worried about.” She shrugged, and he shook his head. “Just take out your phone and get ready to dial 911.”

  “My phone’s in the car,” she whispered, and he shot her a look of disbelief.

  “Why would you leave your phone in the car?”

  “Where’s yours?” she asked, and when he hesitated, she remembered he left it in the cupholder. “Exactly.”

  Charles reached for the door. It was unlocked. Victorine grabbed onto his shirt even tighter. “Maybe we should go back to the car?”

  As they stepped inside, the wood
floor creaked above them and Charles lifted the bat toward the stairs. As they tiptoed passed the kitchen, Victorine grabbed a frying pan.

  “Wouldn’t a knife be better?” he whispered.

  “Yeah, right. And see blood? Gross.”

  Charles opened his mouth to point out the irony of her being a thriller writer, but footsteps started descending the stairs. He pushed Victorine against the wall then hurried to the other side of the stairs. Victorine clutched the frying pan with shaking hands, but when the shadowed figure appeared next to her, she screamed. Jumping out from behind the railing, she swung the pan at the shadowed figure in front of her.

  The man stumbled backward, dropping whatever was in his hand with a loud thud as she continued to scream. He crawled toward the door, but she hit him again, screaming even louder as she felt the impact against the metal in her hand.

  When the light finally came on, Victorine spotted Charles on the floor with his hands protectively over his head. “It’s me!” he yelled. “Victorine, it’s me!”

  Victorine dropped the pan on the floor with her eyes wide. “Oh, my! I am so sorry!”

  A piercing screech came from behind them, and Victorine turned around. A brown-haired woman was laughing so hard, she could hardly breathe. “Oh, Charlie. That was priceless!”

  Charles huffed in frustration as he got back on his feet. “I’m glad you find it funny that we could’ve killed you.”

  She stared at him for a moment then doubled over laughing again. Victorine looked at Charles in confusion.

  “This is my sister, Lindzee,” he said, still rubbing his head.

  “That. Was. Epic,” Lindzee cheered, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, how I needed this tonight. Thank you.”

  “Glad to be of service,” he grumbled sarcastically. “What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be on a trip with your boyfriend?”

  “Yeah, well...” It wasn’t until her laughter faded that Victorine noticed her eyes were red. It looked like she had been crying. “Alan and I got into a fight so… I canceled the trip and came to help Libby with her wedding this weekend. What are you doing here? And who’s this?”

  Victorine flashed her an embarrassed smile while reaching out her hand.

  “This is Victorine, my neighbor.”

  “Neighbor, huh?” Lindzee smiled, taking Victorine’s hand. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

  Victorine’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, no. We’re not—”

  “Does Karen know?” Lindzee asked, giving her brother a look that Victorine couldn’t quite decipher. “Because if she doesn’t. She should.”

  “Did you know Nonna is in the hospital?” Charles said, clearly changing the subject.

  “What?” Lindzee gasped. “What happened?”

  “She fell off the porch and broke her hand earlier today. That’s why we came.”

  “Oh my goodness! I had no idea. I just got here like an hour ago. If I knew, I would’ve gone to see her.”

  “She should be released in the morning once the doctor makes his rounds.”

  “Have you told Dad?”

  “I’m sure Nonna will call him when she gets home tomorrow.”

  “Charles—”

  “Would you mind showing Victorine the room while I grab our stuff from the car? Thanks.” He started toward the door without waiting for a response, and Lindzee turned to Victorine.

  “Isn’t he charming?” she teased, then led Victorine down the hall. “You should take the basement. It’s not soundproofed, but it’s a lot more private.”

  Victorine’s cheeks burned like fire, and she wanted nothing more than to bury her head into the ground. “We’re not together.”

  “Not yet.” Lindzee glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “Wait until you see how small the bed is.”

  Chapter 5

  Victorine woke up with a wave of laughter in the distance. With groggy eyes, she glanced at her watch. It was eight o’clock in the morning, and Charles was already up. He had slept on the carpeted floor, but his pillow was on top of the dresser.

  After washing up and slipping into her jeans, she headed upstairs. In the kitchen, she spotted Charles’ grandmother surrounded by other women her age. When Victorine approached, all the women turned to look.

  “Oh, this is Victorine,” Nonna introduced. “Charles’ girlfriend.”

  Before Victorine could correct her, the women were already pulling her to sit by the island counter with them.

  “How long have you two been together?” one of them asked, pouring Victorine a cup of coffee.

  “Oh, we’re not—”

  “They want to keep it low-key,” Nonna added with a wink, and Victorine wondered if it would make any difference at all if she kept correcting them.

  “Charles has always been so private, hasn’t he?” one of the women chimed in. “One minute we don’t even know he’s dating; the next he’s engaged.”

  Okay! That was where she would draw the line. “We are definitely not engaged.”

  “Not yet, hon. But all the men named Charles in this family have married young,” one of the women said, placing a piece of toast next to the coffee cup. “And Charles the Third is no exception.”

  The Third? Victorine suppressed a laugh.

  “That’s right,” another woman cut it. “And not only are they husband material, but fertile as a rabbit.”

  And I’m done here. Victorine stood with her coffee at hand. “I’m gonna finish this outside.”

  “Sure, hon.” And just like that, they returned to their previous conversation like nothing had happened.

  Victorine stepped outside and immediately regretted forgetting her jacket, but there was no way she was walking back through that kitchen.

  “Have they named your babies yet?” Lindzee laughed from the rocking chair at the end of the porch. “Don’t feel bad. A minute ago they were grilling me about babies, and I’m not even dating anymore.”

  “Anymore?” Victorine echoed, sitting next to Lindzee.

  “Yeah, well.” Lindzee shrugged. “That’s life, right?”

  Victorine wasn’t sure what to say, primarily because she didn’t know much about what a love life entailed. She had always broken up her relationships just in time to start a new book. Dating was a fun distraction, but that was all it was… a distraction.

  “So, how long have you and my brother known each other?” Lindzee asked, looking across the patio. When Victorine followed her gaze, she spotted Charles on his knees, fixing the broken steps.

  “We’ve lived in the same building for about five years now.”

  Lindzee nodded, still watching her brother. “He looks happy,” she noted. “I haven’t seen him smile like that in a long time.” Victorine wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that, so she didn’t. “Alan and I were together for two years. It’s hard to believe it’s over.”

  “What happened?”

  “He forgot our anniversary and left me waiting at the restaurant.”

  “Did you ask him why?”

  “He says he can’t tell me. I mean, I understand if he couldn’t make it, but at least explain, right?” She looked at Victorine for reassurance. “Or am I being unreasonable?”

  Victorine was by no means an expert—she could only go by relationships she had written about. “I would insist on a reason. He owes you that much.”

  Lindzee sighed. “Maybe it’s for the best. There’s so much happening at the hospital right now, I can’t afford to be distracted by this. People are counting on me.”

  “Are you a surgeon, too?”

  “I am.”

  “Do you like it?” Victorine asked, wondering if she, too, had been pressured by her father.

  “I love helping people,” she said with a genuine smile. “In fact, I’m working on coming up with a clinical trial, and now it’s the perfect time because we just got some extra funding.”

  “Have you chosen anything?”

  “Not ye
t, but I need to present something by the end of this week. Otherwise, they’ll give it to someone else.” She rubbed her tired eyes. “That’s why this whole thing with Alan couldn’t have happened at the worst possible time. My mind is so unfocused.”

  “Have you ever heard of Gama Astroplexia?” Victorine asked, and Lindzee gave her a curious look.

  “Yeah, it’s a rare blood disease.”

  “Well, in recent years the number of children being born with it is rising. And the only treatment they have is the same for leukemia, which I’ve been told is too aggressive for this disease.”

  Lindzee watched Victorine for a long moment. “I assume you speak from experience?”

  Victorine nodded, then went on to tell Lindzee all about Ari’s condition and her treatments. To Victorine’s surprise, Lindzee asked to see Ari’s medical file. Michelle would have to approve, of course, but Victorine would definitely make the call.

  “Great!” Lindzee’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I’m going to grab my laptop and start researching more about this right away. Who knows… maybe we could find a better treatment for her.”

  “That would be amazing.”

  Lindzee reached for Victorine’s hand. “I will try my best.” As she was about to stand, her eyes landed on her brother again, and she grunted. When Victorine followed her gaze, she spotted Charles still at the other end of the patio, but this time a blonde woman was next to him, holding a smoothie and giggling like a teenager.

  “Who’s that?” Victorine asked, scooting to the edge of her seat to get a better look.

  “Karen.” Lindzee spit out her name as if it left a bad taste in her mouth. “That woman almost ruined my brother. I was so glad when she broke off their engagement.”

  “Engagement?” That must’ve been what the women in the kitchen were talking about.

  “He was head over heels for her,” Lindzee said. “Then one day, she just broke things off.”

  Victorine felt a heavy tug inside her heart that she could only attribute to jealousy. “Why?”

  “No one knows,” Lindzee mumbled. “But if I were you, I would go save him.”

  Though Victorine felt a tightness in her chest at seeing the woman touch Charles’ shoulder, she reminded herself of a vital truth. “We’re not together.”