by Amy Knupp
“Not here.”
“My sister’s upstairs but we can go inside if you want.”
“Over there,” she said, pointing at the playground equipment fenced in on three sides on a corner of the apartment property. Before he knew it, she was climbing the equipment to the top level.
He followed her, if for no other reason than to try again to find a hint of the smell of alcohol.
When she got to the highest tower, where the spiral slide originated, she stood, holding on to one of the bright red support rails and looking out toward the gulf. “Not a bad view here for the six-year-olds,” she said.
Cale was surprised to catch a sliver of a glimpse of the beach between two buildings. “It’s a better view than we have from the apartment, considering we have none. Rachel,” he said, curiosity and a tinge of alarm making him impatient. “What do you want to talk to me about?”
She turned to face him, looked up at him with the eyes that got him every time and said, “Cale? I love you.”
His heart stuttered and he narrowed his eyes, so caught off guard was he by the simple, to-the-point confession.
“I think I kind of started loving you the night we met, when you were my hero for introducing me to that other med student and trying to help me fit in.”
His pulse thundered and he stood there speechless, waiting for the catch, or the but or...where she was going with this. He didn’t dare hope. Did he?
She wove their fingers together and he kept his gaze on hers, trying to read her. “Rachel?”
“Yeah?”
“When you were pacing on the sidewalk over there, when I came outside... You were trying to plan out what you were going to say to me, weren’t you?”
She laughed. “Maybe.”
“What else you got?”
“I love you. You love me. We...should be together, don’t you think?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said slowly. “Last time I tried to make that point you ditched me.” Unable to stop himself, he drew her closer, until their bodies touched, chest-to-chest, thigh-to-thigh. “And then I spent half the night following you home to make sure you made it safely, since that bus idea of yours didn’t work out so well.”
“Crap. Busted. You followed me? In your truck?”
“On foot. And once I saw your light go on in your house, I walked back to get my truck.”
“Why in the...?”
“That love thing you mentioned. I knew you wouldn’t get on a bus.”
“I was fine walking by myself.”
“I know. I saw.” He smiled, his heart hammering and his head feeling light and airy. “Could we get back to the matter at hand? You said you couldn’t be with me. What changed in the past two weeks?”
She let his hand go and reached into her back pocket, producing a folded-up, ripped-out page. She held it out to him.
“A love letter?” he said with a goofy grin.
“Read it.”
He unfolded the paper and recognized Noelle’s feminine handwriting.
“I ripped that out of her journal,” Rachel said, watching his face expectantly as he read.
He read about when Noelle had called Rachel with news of their engagement. A couple sentences in, he paused. “That must have been a tough phone call to handle.”
She shrugged, never breaking eye contact. “In a way. You have to believe I was thrilled for her more than I can say....”
“I believe it completely. I got a sense of the bond between you two just from the way she talked about you. She would have been just as excited for you had the tables been turned.”
“Read the rest.”
He did and nodded the whole time, not surprised at all but yet again affected by the depth of the sisters’ love for each other. When he finished, he handed it back to her. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?” Rachel folded the paper and put it back in her pocket. “That’s all?”
He pulled her into a tight hug and lifted her off the ground for a second, closing his eyes and inhaling the no-nonsense clean scent of her and feeling his chest expand with so much love. “She said the same things to me on more than one occasion. She loved you so much, Rachel. Wanted nothing more than for you to fall in love and be over-the-moon, crazy happy.”
Rachel stared at him, her eyes crinkling with the broadest smile he’d ever seen on her. “I am. Over-the-moon, crazy happy. Or I will be.”
“Will be?”
“I’m waiting for you to tell me we’re okay. That we can have what she wanted me to have. What I’ve always dreamed of having.” She thumped his chest lightly. “You’re cruel.”
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her, pouring all of his love into it and then some. “How’s that for cruel?” he said minutes later when he finally broke the contact.
She took a second to catch her breath. “Your ‘cruel’ is definitely a start.”
“Only a start?”
“I’m kind of wondering where we go from here.”
There was no question in his mind about where they went. “So I’m late for an appointment,” he said, conversationally.
Rachel narrowed her eyes and tilted her head in confusion, making him laugh.
“It’s relevant, I promise.”
“Where’s your appointment?”
“My Realtor called me a couple of hours ago. There’s a home right on the bay that’s about to be listed. She’s giving me an early heads-up because she made a killing on the sale of my beachside condo.”
“Yeah?” she said, running her hand over his chest, goose bumps of excitement breaking out on her arms.
“Not many homes on the bay,” he said.
“And they never come up for sale.”
“Almost never. But the best part? Apparently this one has its own little boathouse, just the right size for a couple of kayaks.”
Rachel laughed and kissed him again. “It sounds perfect.”
“Good. Because the mortgage payment’s a little steep. I was thinking it’d be best if I had a roommate.”
“A roommate?”
“There are three bedrooms, two baths. Not that big of a kitchen, so I’m looking for someone who doesn’t love to cook.”
She grinned.
“Plenty of room, though, in case that roommate were ever to be crazy enough to, say, marry me and make babies.”
Her eyes sparkled, reflecting the joy he felt in every cell. “You might have a deal with the marriage thing,” she said slowly, “but the babies... I would have to work up to that. It would require practice. Lots of it. And the other thing? I’m not about to get into this home thing sight unseen.” Her tone was teasing now.
“Hold up. Was that a yes to marriage?”
“Was that a real proposal?”
“Yes.”
“Then yes.”
“If we hurry, we could probably catch the sun setting over the bay from the very-soon-to-be-ours deck.”
“Sunsets are pretty good...if you have the right person to enjoy them with.”
Cale stared into her eyes, all kidding aside. “It’s taken me a while, but I definitely have the right person.”
EPILOGUE
RACHEL SUDDENLY APPEARED in the back doorway of their home that led to the small yard between the house and the bay itself. Dressed chest-to-ankles in white. Looking...stupendously gorgeous.
Cale’s eyes teared up and he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word at that moment if he’d had to. She stood twenty feet away from him, with forty-some people between them, but when she lifted her chin at last and met his gaze with her beautiful blue one, the rest of the world faded away. Her strapless dress showed off her narrow shoulders and muscular arms. It hugged her breasts—revealing a hint of her luscious cleavage—gathered beneath, then billowed down in a fitted but not tight cut that showed off her curves and suited her more than a ruffly, flowy number ever could. The simple, silky material reflected the bright, midday sun. It would probably be difficult to look at it for long, but Cale wasn’t
proof of that because he couldn’t take his eyes from her face.
Her once-again blond hair, which had grown out to her chin, was pulled back from her face. Her lips glistened with light pink gloss, and he couldn’t wait to taste them, to seal the promise they were about to make to each other.
She was the perfect woman for him. She made her way down the white carpet with slow, sure steps in time with the tempo of the music. He knew how nervous she was at the prospect of being the center of attention, but, not surprisingly, she showed nothing of it on the outside. In fact, she couldn’t seem to keep the smile off her face. For that matter, neither could he.
Sawyer, his best man, nudged him with his elbow and said, “You’re a lucky man. And if you ever hurt her, you’ll be an unlucky man....” Both men chuckled, having had the friendly discussion of what Sawyer would do to him if Cale ever let his sister down.
Rachel had almost reached him when Cale belatedly noticed Buck at her side. The old geezer had been beside himself when they’d asked him to give Rachel away, and he looked proud as a father now. When Cale stepped up beside Rachel to have Buck hand her over, so to speak, Buck’s eyes sparkled, and he held on to her an extra two seconds, just to mess with Cale. Everyone who had gathered to share their moment laughed, and Cale pointed his finger at Buck as if to say he’d get him back. Then, as Rachel handed her bouquet to Mariah, the maid of honor, and entwined her arm with his, Cale’s attention zeroed in on the woman he loved, and he lost all awareness of anything around them.
* * *
RACHEL HAD WAITED for about as long as she could—she couldn’t stand it anymore.
“You,” she said, pulling on Cale’s hand. “Husband of mine.”
The most amazing man in the world bent down and kissed her in reply, which started yet another round of howling from the raucous group of firefighters and spouses, all of whom had become so important to them both.
“Get a room!” Evan hollered when Rachel turned to face Cale full-on and put both her arms around him.
“It’s not a bad idea, you know,” Cale said privately to her with the biggest, most boyish grin on his face. “It’s what married people do.”
Rachel laughed, feeling her cheeks warm under the bright sun. “True, but it’s two in the afternoon. You’ll have to wait.”
He nipped at her nose and squeezed her side affectionately. “For you, I’ll wait. But only for a few hours.”
Now was the time, at last. “Come with me,” she said, dragging him toward the table with the cake, which they and their guests had already devoured, past Evan and Selena; Derek, Macey and their nine-month-old daughter; past Clay, Andie and their daughter, Payton; and Faith and Joe, who was lavishing his own nine-month-old with love. As they went by her mom and Sawyer, who were sitting with Mariah, Buck and Cale’s parents, her mother caught her eye and winked conspiratorially. When they walked by Scott, Mercedes, Charlie, Penn—who was an arson investigator and tended to socialize with their group, as well—and Penn’s girlfriend, Nadia, the five guests held out their hands and Cale slapped each one in sequence, as if he’d just hit a home run.
Rachel picked up the mic, turned it on and tested it.
“So...I know a lot of times the bride and groom exchange gifts privately, but with my love of the spotlight and all, ha-ha, I wanted to do this in front of all of you. Because, thanks to this guy, all of you have come to mean so much to me. As a former loner, I really don’t know what to do with so many friends except to say thank you. So thanks for being here to share our big day.”
Several of the guys called out comments in fun as Rachel swallowed down the surge of emotion she hadn’t expected.
“Anyway—” she turned to face Cale “—this dear, understanding, patient man has been so, so good to me and has put up with my insane work schedule for months without complaining. Much.”
Laughter filtered throughout the group.
“And I’ll admit, I pushed him by insisting on taking so many extra shifts, and yet he loves me, workaholism and all.”
Cale gazed down at her and nodded helplessly, his love shining in his eyes, making her heart soar yet again.
“Because of my job and the fact that I haven’t been there for quite a year yet, we weren’t able to plan a honeymoon, and yet you never complained once.”
Several of the women in the group said “Aww” in unison.
“The thing is, though...I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
Cale’s smile faded slightly and he tilted his head. Raised his brows in question.
“We’re leaving in—” she checked the dainty silver bracelet watch around her wrist “—approximately ninety minutes for our weeklong trip to New York City, where neither of us will be allowed to think for a second about work...except for the day I take you to the Fire Museum.”
“Really?” Cale said, his face-splitting grin back. “You’re mine for an entire week?”
“I’m yours for an entire lifetime.”
“But I, uh, I’m scheduled to work three shifts.”
“That schedule was a fake!” Joe, the captain and the one in charge of making the schedule, called out.
Cale looked at Joe in disbelief then back at Rachel. “Really? We’re going on a honeymoon?”
“Your sister packed your bags. And all of our guests will now be understanding when we leave our own reception early.”
“Wow.” Cale pulled her to him and squeezed her so tightly she became airborne. “I don’t know what to say.” He glanced at Joe again. “Thanks, Joe, for starters. And you...my beautiful, sneaky wife...” He shook his head and she could swear she saw moisture in the corners of his eyes.
“There’s one last little thing,” Rachel said when she was able to breathe. She no longer used the mic, figuring this was more personal, and probably everyone could hear her anyway, if they wanted to. “My work schedule? The double shifts? The extra days? I figured out a while ago that’s not the way I want to live long-term, thanks, in part, to my mom and her sometimes-annoying wisdom. I did it these past few months with the sole purpose of saving up for our honeymoon, but...when we come back, I’ll be working no more than four shifts a week. Like a normal person. I know you’ll still have twenty-fours, but hopefully we’ll have lots of time for us. More than we’re used to.”
“That,” Cale said, as he reached down and grabbed her in a cradle hold before she knew what he was doing, “is the very best gift you could ever give me, Dr. Rachel Jackson.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from Back to the Good Fortune Diner by Vicki Essex!
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CHAPTER ONE
TIFFANY KNEW THE EXACT MOMENT when her family arrived in the E.R.
“Say joh may-ah?” Poh-poh’s voice creaked.
“No, Grandma, she’s not dead.” She heard Daniel reassure in that too-smooth voice of his. Tiffany grabbed the edges of the pillow and stuffed them against her ears. With her family hovering on the other side of the curtain, the pleasant buzz of the painkillers evaporated, and her stomach churned.
Shadows streaked into her cubicle from beneath the partition. “Tiffany?”
For a moment, she considered pretending to be comatose, or ducking away and hiding somewhere until they left. But there was no avoiding the inevi
table. Sighing, she propped herself up in the hospital bed, smoothing the blanket over her knees. “I’m here,” she called in a rusty voice.
The rings on the curtain railing clattered as the partition was yanked aside. Mom, Dad, Daniel and Poh-poh took her in with dark, wide eyes.
“Ai-ya!” Her grandmother began speaking rapidly in Cantonese, waving her hands.
“Bah, she’s fine. I told you she was fine,” her father said impatiently, giving her a cursory once-over. His stained white kitchen apron still clung to his narrow hips, the front dangling to his knees, and he smelled strongly of fryer oil. “You’re fine, right?” he asked.
She didn’t reply, knowing any answer apart from “yes” would cause only more trouble.
“What were you doing driving so fast in the rain?” Her mother placed her dry, papery palm against Tiffany’s forehead as if she had a fever. Her fingers brushed the bruises along her cheek and jaw and Tiffany flinched. “It’s that car, I bet. I told you not to buy used.”
“There’s nothing wrong with used cars,” her dad said. “She’s just a bad driver. She should have learned from me instead of paying for those classes. ‘Defensive driving’—bah.” He snorted in disgust. “Daniel learned from me, and now he teaches driving.”
Poh-poh cycled through relief, exasperation and hysterics as she berated her only granddaughter in her native tongue. She was reckless; drivers today were careless; the weather had cursed her; her face was all bruised and now she wouldn’t be able to find a husband and why hadn’t she stayed in Everville with the family instead of moving to New York City?
“I’m sorry, Poh-poh.” She felt bad for making her grandmother worry.
“Sit down, Grandma. Don’t work yourself up.” Daniel pulled the cubicle’s lone chair next to the bed, but their grandmother argued that her dad should sit after his long day in the kitchen. Tony insisted his wife sit. Rose insisted Daniel sit. Tiffany closed her eyes as they argued, voices rising until a nurse asked them to quiet down. Grudgingly, Poh-poh sat.
The E.R.’s attending physician interrupted to talk to the family about Tiffany’s condition. Dr. Frewer was a nice-looking middle-aged man with salt in his dark hair and a fat gold wedding ring on his finger. Tiffany bet he was wondering the same thing she did whenever her family got together: How did four people manage to make such a racket? He greeted each family member and ran through the list of Tiffany’s injuries: a few bruises, a sprained wrist, but nothing serious.
