Obviously, my time was up.
***
The self-storage facility was just over twenty minutes out from the hotel on a street not too far from Three Lakes Park. I saw Braden taking in the city as we got a cab out—we’d rent a car for the drive to my hometown later—to the facility, but I wasn’t really in the mood to reminisce about the State I’d grown up in. I was about to do plenty of that, and I was pretty scared if I was being honest with myself.
The guy was friendly at the storage place. I gave him my I.D. and storage number and he took us around what looked like normal car garages with bright red doors. He stopped in front of one of them abruptly. “Here you go.” He smiled and left us to it.
Braden rubbed my shoulder sensing my hesitation. “You can do this.”
I can do this. I keyed in the code on the keypad next to the door and the metal doors started to rise. When they’d finally rotated up along the ceiling, I let my eyes take in the sight before me. There were boxes and boxes of stuff. Suitcases. A jewelry box. Trembling, I took a step inside and tried to calm my heart before it rocketed me into a panic attack.
I felt Braden’s cool, large hand slip into mine and he squeezed. “Breathe, babe. Just breathe.”
I smiled up at him, a wobbly kind of smile.
I could definitely do this.
Epilogue
Edinburgh, Dublin Street
Two Years Later…
At the sound of a throat clearing I glanced up into the mirror and saw Braden leaning against the doorjamb of our room. I whirled around, my hands immediately going to my hips. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.”
Braden smiled softly, his eyes drinking me in, and the look in them made me feel all mushy. Damn him. “You look beautiful, babe.”
I glanced down at the dress and sighed. “I can’t believe you managed to talk me into this.”
“I can be very persuasive when I want to be.” He was grinning smugly now.
“Persuasive is one thing. This… this is a miracle.” I eyed him carefully. “Wait, is that why you’re here? To make sure I leave?” That bothered me. A lot. I actually felt my heart stop.
Braden grimaced. “No. I have every faith that you’re going to walk out that door.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I haven’t seen you in a few days and I missed you.”
“You’re about to see me in half an hour. You couldn’t wait?”
“There will be other people there though.” He made a step towards me, giving me that look.
Oh no. No!
“That can wait.” I held up a hand, holding him off. “Now, you got me into this. I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it, but you got all persuasive, and then you got me all into it. And I want it to be kind of perfect—as in… done right. So get your ass out of here, mister.”
He was grinning broadly now as he backed up. “Okay, you’re the boss.” I snorted at that one. “I’ll see you in half-an-hour.”
“Braden!” Ellie fell into the doorway in a champagne, silk floor-length gown. “It’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Get out!” She pushed him up the hallway out of sight.
“See you soon, babe!” he called back, laughing.
I shook my head, trying to calm the nerves and the warring giddiness as I looked into the cheval mirror. I was almost unrecognizable in my ivory wedding dress.
“Ready, Joss?” Ellie asked, out of breath from beating her brother out of the apartment.
Rhian appeared at her side, wearing a teasing grin, the same champagne dress Ellie had on, and a gold wedding band beside the diamond engagement ring James had given her. They’d been married for eight months. “Yeah, you ready, Joss?”
We were standing in the master bedroom, what used to be Ellie’s room but was now mine and Braden’s. In Virginia I’d found some things—my mom’s jewelry, Beth’s favorite teddy bear, Ted, a few photo albums and a painting—that I’d wanted to keep. Everything else we gave away or threw out. It took us a couple of days, and a lot of tissues for me, but we did it, and then we took off to say goodbye to them at their graves. That was hard. I couldn’t stop the panic attack on that one and for a while Braden just sat in the grass with me and held me as I tried to apologize to my mom, dad and Beth for eight years of trying not to remember them.
Going through that with me just made Braden and I closer. When we got back to Scotland, we were pretty much inseparable, and since Ellie and Adam were inseparable, there was too much awkwardness with the four of us living together with Ellie and Braden being brother and sister. Neither of them wanted to hear the sex stuff. So Ellie had moved into Adam’s place a few months after her surgery, and Braden had put his apartment up for rent and moved into Dublin Street with me. A year later he’d actually pre-arranged it with a cab driver, and proposed to me in a cab outside the Bruntsfield Evangelical Church, in reminiscence of how and where we first met. Fast forward to now. After the wedding we’d be flying off to Hawaii for our honeymoon, and when we came back it would be to Dublin Street as Mr. and Mrs. Carmichael. My chest squeezed and I took a deep breath.
Braden had been talking about having kids lately. Kids. Oh wow. I glanced at my completed manuscript lying on my desk. After twenty rejection letters I’d gotten a call from a literary agent who wanted to read the rest of it. I’d just mailed the full manuscript out two days ago. For two years that manuscript had been like a kid to me, and I’d had plenty of freak outs about publishing my parent’s story. Real kids? I’d freaked out when Braden first mentioned it, but he’d just sat there sipping his beer while I silently spiraled out. Ten minutes later he’d looked back at me and said, “Are you done?”
He was used to my freak outs now.
I shot a look at the photograph I had of my parent’s on my desk. Like me and Braden, mom and dad had been passionate about each other, argued a lot, had their issues, but always got through it because of how deeply they felt for one another. They were everything they couldn’t be without the other. Sure it could get rough sometimes, but life wasn’t a Hollywood movie. Shit happened. You fought, you screamed, and somehow you worked like hell to get out the other side still intact.
Just like me and Braden.
I nodded at Ellie and Rhian.
Sometimes the clouds weren’t weightless. Sometimes their bellies got dark and full. It was life. It happened. It didn’t mean it wasn’t scary, or that I wasn’t still afraid, but now I knew that as long as I was standing under it with Braden beside me when those clouds broke, I’d be alright. We’d get rained on together. Knowing Braden he’d have a big ass umbrella to shelter us from the worst of it.
That there was an uncertain future I could handle.
“Yeah. I’m ready.”
Acknowledgements
In my new venture into adult fiction I’d like to thank Ashley McConnell and Alicia Cannon, my amazing editors. You’re wonderful, ladies! Thank you for all your hard work (and comments that made me laugh). Also, a massive thank you to Claudia McKinney (a.k.a. Phatpuppy Art) for your talent, for creating art that speaks to me, and mostly for being an unbelievably lovely person to work with.
I also want to thank a few fantastic book bloggers who have not only been incredibly supportive of On Dublin Street since the moment I announced my plans to publish adult contemporary romance, but have supported me almost from the beginning of my writing career— Shelley Bunnell, Kathryn Grimes, Rachel at the blog Fiktshun, Alba Solorzano, Damaris Cardinali, Ana at the blog Once Upon a Twilight, Janet Wallace, Cait Peterson, and Jena Freeth. You guys always astound me with your unbelievable support, enthusiasm and kind words. You make me smile on a daily basis.
I can’t forget to say a huge thank you to my fellow authors, Shelly Crane, Tammy Blackwell, Michelle Leighton, Quinn Loftis, Amy Bartol, Georgia Cates, Rachel Higginson and Angeline Kace. I cannot tell you how much your friendship these past few months has meant to me, and how wonderful it is to have such awesome, kind
ladies to turn to for help, advice, and a giggle. There are no words to describe how brilliant you all are.
A rather HUGE thank you to my readers for taking a chance on me, for encouraging me, and for filling my days with big cheesy grins from reading your emails, Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads comments. You’ve no idea how much I appreciate those :)
And finally, a special thank you to my mum, dad, my brother David, Carol, my closest friends, Ashleen (congratulations Mrs. Walker!), Kate, and Shanine, and all my family and friends for being there and being you. Some elements of On Dublin Street are personal to me, and personal to you. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to learn the important lessons, for us it seems to have come upon us all too quickly.
Grief and loss are probably the most fearful creatures that exist. They can teach us to worry about the future, to question the longevity of contentment, and prove us unable to enjoy happiness when we have it. But loss shouldn’t be a fearful creature. It should be a creature of wisdom. It should teach us not to fear that tomorrow may never come, but live fully, as though the hours are melting away like seconds. Loss should teach us to cherish those we love, to never do anything that will result in regret, and to cheer on tomorrow with all of its promises of greatness.
Sometimes strength and courage aren’t in the big things. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is enjoy what we have and be positive about what makes us lucky. It’s easy and un-extraordinary to be frightened of life. It’s far more difficult to arm yourself with the good stuff despite all the bad and step foot into tomorrow as an everyday warrior.
To my family and friends: you’re the strongest warriors I know.
About the Author
Samantha Young is a 26 year old Scottish writer who graduated from the University of Edinburgh in 2009. She studied ancient and medieval history, which really just means she likes old stuff. Since February 2011, Samantha has been self-publishing her amazon-bestselling young adult novels. She’s the author of four series—ten novels and one novella.
On Dublin Street is her debut into adult fiction.
For more info on Samantha’s adult fiction visit http://www.ondublinstreet.com
For info on her young adult fiction visit www.samanthayoungbooks.com
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