Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After: A Short Story Collection

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Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After: A Short Story Collection Page 11

by Daisy Prescott


  “The one he got at the fair last summer didn’t last a weekend. Are you sure he can handle a mammal?” Poor fish was half-dead before we even finished the lumberjack competition. Tom was ridiculously proud that he won it for Hailey, he bragged to all the kids surrounding him at the duck pond game. Never mind it was a kids’ game to begin with. The man wanted a fish, he won a fish.

  “Poor Orca.” Hailey frowns and pulls down the sleeves of her sweater, tucking her hands into the thick wool. “Now that we’re living together, I’ll be in charge of keeping nameless here alive.”

  The puppy lifts his head at her voice and squirms in my arms. “They’re both lucky to have you.”

  Hailey and I don’t spend much time together without Diane or Tom around, but I like her. The two women have become close friends, and whatever she does to manage Tom seems to be working. He’s never been happier.

  “Likewise. Honestly, I can’t believe I’m living with Tom Donnely.”

  “A year ago if you told me, I never would’ve believed it. Maybe if he was renting out a room.” I scratch my beard and give her a smile. “He’s not making you pay rent is he?” Tom inherited his land and built the house himself. He doesn’t have a mortgage and other than property taxes has no expenses other than utilities. But he can be cheap too.

  “I tried to pay him once for a tank of propane. That didn’t end well.” She rolls her eyes at my best friend’s stubborn nature. “He’s oddly traditional when it comes to being a man and providing for his woman.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me. He takes after Pops more than he’ll admit.”

  “We all miss his grand-dad. Sometimes I like to think Clifford’s ghost gave Tom the kick in the ass he needed. Is that terrible of me?”

  “If anyone could come back and haunt us, it would be Clifford Donnely.” I hand the puppy back to her. She nuzzles his head with her nose before putting him into the crate. Nameless burrows into the blanket and closes his eyes.

  “How’s Diane feeling these days? I haven’t spoken to her since last week.”

  “She’s good. Eating, sleeping more. Otherwise the same.” I don’t mention we’ve entered the crazy horny stage of her pregnancy. Now that she’s not throwing up anymore, all she wants to do is eat and have sex. If it weren’t for her giant boobs, I’d say she was turning into a super horny teenage boy.

  “Look at you, John Day, married man and dad to be.” She grins at me. I’ve known Hailey most of my life, and despite the events of the past year, it’s tough not to see her as little Lori Donnely’s tough-as-nails tomboy friend.

  “I could say the same thing about you, Hailey. Well, not the married or pregnant part …” I let the last part trail off. I don’t really want to discuss my best friend’s sex life with his girlfriend. Ever.

  She slowly blinks her eyes and shakes her head. “No on both the last two. We’re not really going to talk about sex, are we? Please say no.”

  “God, no.” I take a step back. “Nope. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”

  She closes the crate door and picks it up by the handle. “On that note, I’m going to head home.” She hands me the crate and a bag of puppy food. “I was never here. We never had this conversation.”

  I nod and settle the bag under my arm, holding the crate with the other hand. “What conversation?”

  With a wave she walks to the front of her car.

  It’s a good thing she’s leaving. Our conversations should never involve penis size or sex lives. Plus, I’d gotten too close to blowing Tom’s plans for the weekend by bringing up marriage.

  Christmas has exploded all over Langley. As I pull into a parking spot on Second Street, I note that every storefront is covered with holiday greenery and festive decorations. Some windows are painted with winter scenes, including a pod of Orcas wearing Santa hats at the music store, while others have enough mistletoe draped everywhere to poison the entire town.

  The holiday stroll doesn’t officially start for another hour, but I told Diane I’d meet her early. Christmas carols play through the speakers hidden under the buildings’ eaves as I make my way down the path to her Pilates studio. She bought the business from Traci this fall. Once the baby comes, she’ll need someone else to take over her classes for a while, but having her own business makes her happy, and I love anything that makes her happy.

  I pause outside the building and think about how casually I just thought about the baby. My baby. Our baby. After the shock wore off, I've slowly adjusted to the thought that in a few months, I’m going to be a dad. Me. With a kid. Hell, we have years before he’ll be a full blown kid. Baby.

  By the way, baby is a four letter word. I’ve said a lot of four letter words over the years, but baby has become my new favorite.

  Smiling at what a huge softie this whole pregnancy has made me, I shake my head and open the door to the studio. Diane sits on a mat on the floor, stretching. Her belly protrudes enough she can no longer reach her toes. With her dark hair pulled back, the mirror reflects her cleavage as she leans forward. It’s my favorite part of her ever-changing body.

  She catches me staring and sits up, grinning. I swear she leans back on her hands in order to push out her chest, and tease me further. “You are so predictable, husband of mine.”

  I walk over and stand in front of her. The view is even better from this angle. Her workout tank cuts low, giving me a spectacular eye-full.

  “Are you going to stand there ogling my boobs, or will you help my fat ass off the floor?” Her cheeks are pink from exercise. Or the tightness in my jeans. She is almost eye level with my fly and I’m certain she can see how she affects me.

  Still. Every day.

  Always.

  I extend both my hands and lift her up. Fat ass? Never.

  I pull her to me and remind her how beautiful she is. My hand cups her head as the other supports her back, dipping her slightly as my lips find hers. I moan a little when she weaves her fingers into my hair and tugs. Her strong grip on my bicep tells me she is as turned on as I am right now. If it weren’t for the fact the glass doors are unlocked and all the lights are on, I’d take this much further right now. Forget the holiday stroll. Why didn’t I lock the door when I came in?

  Her stomach rumbles. Loudly. It sounds like a motorcycle revving. Or a bear growling.

  I break the kiss because I’m laughing.

  She tightens her hand on my arm and pulls me back down with her fingers in my hair. Her moan is of frustration. “Ignore the monster demanding food. Kiss me.”

  I peck her lips. It’s all I can do because now I’m smiling and chuckling, and there is no way I can kiss her properly.

  Her lips pout, full of disappointment. “You’re laughing at a poor pregnant woman.”

  “I’m laughing that your stomach sounds like a bear. It’s my husbandly duty to feed you and worry about your ankles swelling.” I glance down to make sure her ankles aren’t swollen. From this angle, I can’t even see her ankles because of her belly.

  “They’re fine. I’m fine.”

  Her stomach grumbles again. This time it’s a low rumble. The mountain is angry. I pat her bump. “We’ll stop and get you a snickerdoodle at the bakery.”

  “Mmm … I do love those.” She stretches up on her toes to give me a soft kiss. “You’re the most wonderful husband ever.”

  I run my hands down her side and over her hips, which have also become more curvier in the last couple months. “I do what I can.”

  “Let me change and I’ll be ready to go. What time are we meeting Tom and Hailey?” She steps away and heads toward the changing room.

  I glance at the clock on the wall. “We’ve got about fifteen minutes before we said we’d meet them.

  She stops walking and gives me a slow smile. Her tongue runs along the edge of her top teeth.

  I can’t believe I’m turning this down. “We don’t have time.”

  “We have plenty of time.”

  I close my eyes to this temptress an
d exhale. On a normal evening, we’d have plenty of time for something fun, but not tonight. Not for the surprise I’ve arranged. There isn’t enough time for Diane to shower and get ready. We can’t show up smelling of sex. Not tonight.

  “Are you turning down some hanky-panky?” Her mouth drops open in disbelief.

  Staring at her inviting lips reminds me of the wood I’m half sporting since the kiss a few minutes ago. We wouldn’t have to have full out sex …

  I’ve about convinced myself to offer a compromise, when cold air hits my back from the opening of the front door.

  Should’ve locked it.

  “There you are,” Hailey exclaims as she walks into the space. A knit hat covers her hair and a puffy coat makes her look like she’s wearing a sleeping bag. After unwrapping her long knit scarf, she stops, her focus bouncing between us. “Oh. Am I interrupting something?”

  Beard burn has deepened the pink on Diane’s cheeks. Her hair is mostly out of its ponytail. She looks thoroughly kissed. Blushing deeper, she dashes into the small changing room and shuts the door. “Be right out!”

  Hailey stares at me.

  I rub my hand over my beard again.

  “I was totally interrupting something! I’m so sorry.” She focuses on the window instead of meeting my eyes. “It’s cold and I’m early, so I thought I’d grab Diane and then meet up with Tom, but you’re here already, and Diane’s not changed yet, so she’s not ready, but you’re wearing your jacket and I’m not sure even what’s going on, but the look you two were giving each other could melt metal, and now I’m babbling. So this is awkward.”

  I don’t know if she breathed at all while she said all that. Pretty sure she didn’t.

  “It’s fine. You didn’t interrupt.”

  She meets my eyes. “I don’t believe you, but okay.”

  We stand there awkwardly for a minute.

  I brush a hand over my beard. “I dropped off the puppy at your house on my way over here. I also let him out, so he should be fine for a couple of hours.”

  “Thanks for taking him. I owe you.”

  Luckily, Diane’s a fast changer. She exits the room wearing those black leggings she lives in these days and a big sweater.

  Hailey makes a cooing sound like a dove when she sees her. “You got bigger this week. I think you popped.”

  Is popping a good thing?

  Diane doesn’t appear so sure. “Suddenly, I’m huge.” She rubs her belly and smiles down at her hand. Some weird pride or other emotion lodges itself in my throat at seeing her loving expression.

  Huge softie. But I’ll deny it if anyone asks or comments.

  “Where’s Tom?” I need reinforcement. I need my wingman. I stare out the glass doors. All I can see is a reflection of the three of us. It’s only five o’clock, but it’s completely dark out already.

  “He’s running late, but said he’ll find us.” Hailey smiles at Diane, reaching out to touch her belly. “Can I feel?”

  “Sure. Sometimes the baby kicks after I’ve been stretching. I don’t think she likes it.”

  Hailey’s eyes widen. “She?”

  Diane nods. “Well, this week I think she’s a she. John’s being old fashioned and doesn’t want to know the sex until the birth.”

  “I’m convinced he’s a boy.” I cross my arms. Boys I can handle. Little girl? I’m not ready for that. I know too much about guys like Tom and me to be able to survive raising a girl.

  The two women give me sympathetic frowns, but amusement flashes in their eyes.

  “What?”

  Diane flattens her expression. “Nothing, honey. Girl or boy, you’re going to be an amazing poppa.”

  My neck prickles in embarrassment. This is too much.

  “I’m going to stop by and check on Olaf at the Dog House before this thing starts. You know how he gets cranky when there’s going to be a big crowd and a whole hullabaloo.”

  “Right, Olaf gets cranky.” Diane nods. “Sweet of you to check on him. We’ll catch up with you in a bit.”

  “Okay.” I rub my neck. “Good. I’ll text Tom and tell him to meet me there.”

  I give her a quick peck on the cheek and nod good-bye to Hailey.

  Their heads are together in whispered conversation before the door closes behind me.

  I need a beer and some testosterone.

  I text Tom.

  He replies in a few seconds that he’ll meet me at the Dog.

  I laugh at my best friend. He knows me well.

  Chapter 2

  Tom

  “Hey, Tom.” Erik Kelso is setting up a bar stool outside the front door of the Dog House as I cross the street. His Santa hat droops over the left side of his head. He resembles an oversized elf.

  “Pretty cold out here for sidewalk drinking.” I stop next to his perch. The forecast is for flurries and the damp night air is cold enough for snow. “Or is Olaf carding tonight?”

  “Ha, when was the last time Olaf paid for a bouncer?” Pointing above our heads, he gives me a grin. Hanging over us is a ball of mistletoe. I step back and away from its shadow. All along the street, balls of greenery and mistletoe decorate the doorways. Some shops even have chalkboards outside to tally kisses. I have to give the guy credit for the stool.

  “Nice,” I tell him.

  He holds up his fist for a bump. “I figure why try to work the entire street, when I can sit here comfortably and wait for the ladies to come to me. Carter is pissed he didn’t think of it first.”

  I look around for the other Kelso brother, but don’t see him inside at the bar.

  “Carter’s down the block at the pizzeria. We decided to divide and conquer.”

  Resembling big yellow puppies, the two of them could be John and I a few years ago. I hate to admit it, but their game might even be better than ours. I never thought to set up a stool under a kissing ball. That’s horny guy genius at work right there.

  “The women won’t know what to do with themselves.” I bump his fist, giving him his deserved props.

  “Speaking of women, does Hailey have any clue what you’re planning for Christmas?”

  I shake my head. “So far, nope. You guys coming over tomorrow to help me? The girls are scheduled to head over to Seattle to go shopping for the day. I figure we can get the framing up while they’re gone. It’s all loaded on the flatbed over at the farmhouse.”

  As weird as it might seem, I’m liking, hell, even enjoying, living with Hailey. Sharing the house and especially my bed with her has been easier than I imagined.

  However, sharing a shop space between a welder and a carver has been less than ideal. My barn is big enough for the two of us, but wood and sparks aren’t a great mix. So I’m building a small shop for her. That way she can listen to all the Backstreet Boys music she wants.

  She’d kill me if I told anyone she still loves ’90s boy bands, but I don’t think people would be shocked if they found out. The new shop will be pretty small, under a thousand square feet, but vented and all open for her torches. She can still store stuff in the barn.

  “What’s the plan for tomorrow?” Erik asks.

  “We’re loading up the framing on the flatbed in the morning. I poured the foundation a couple of weeks ago when she and her mom went on a girls’ weekend. It’s been covered under a tarp so she doesn’t get suspicious.”

  “She’s not suspicious about a tarp in the yard?” He gives me a doubtful look.

  “I threw a bunch of carvings and stumps on it and then covered those with another tarp.”

  He nods in support of my genius. “You’re a duplicitous bastard, Donnely. How’d you ever get a hot babe like Hailey?”

  “Big word. You studying to pass your GED?”

  “Ha ha. I graduated college. I’m just saying you being all monogamous is pretty strange.” He lifts his pint glass to take a swig.

  Smug asshole. I flick the bottom of the glass, causing it to over tip, spilling a thin stream of beer down the front of his jacket.<
br />
  He sputters and wipes at the beer. “Hey! What was that for?”

  I shoot him a dirty look. “That’s for suggesting I’d ever cheat on Hailey.”

  His eyebrows furrow and his mouth hangs open a little. “I’d never do that. You aren’t that stupid. And even if you were, I’d be first in line to console her.”

  I swat at his head. “There’s going to be no need for you, or anybody else, to console Hailey. She’s mine and I plan to keep it that way. For a long time. Forever. Got it?”

  He holds up his hands. “Got it. Damn, you’re so sensitive these days. You and John both are whipped hard.”

  “You should be so lucky.” I laugh and cuff his shoulder before opening the door.

  “I’m trying to get lucky. Why do you think I’ve got my stool here?” His chuckle fades as I enter the bar.

  Olaf grumbles hello and puts two pint glasses on the old wood bar. “That kid’s going to be trouble tonight.”

  “You didn’t have to serve him. Or give him the stool.” I knock on the window to scare Erik. He bounces off the stool and it tumbles over. Flipping me the bird, he straightens up and resumes his seat.

  Olaf’s laughter turns into a cough. “Eh, he’s better out there in the cold than in here where he bothers me. At least I don’t have to listen to him.”

  I sip the foam off of the pint he pours for me. Outside, more people pass by on the sidewalk, their cheerful voices carrying through the glass.

  “Damn revelers,” Olaf mutters.

  “You seem in fine holiday spirits, tonight, O.” I spin on my stool to observe him. For as old as he is, and he’s got to be in his sixties now, he’s still pretty spry. Or maybe ornery is the word I mean.

  “Bah humbug.” He scowls. “There’s going to be caroling later. If people want to sing, that’s fine, but standing outside someone’s place of business and singing at them feels like harassment. If I wanted to hear all those women singing off-key, I’d go to church. You see me in church on Sunday, Tom?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Can’t say that I have, O. Then again, I’d have to be there to see you.”

 

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