by L. D. Davis
Unlike being a teenager, there was nothing stopping me from rejoining Luke in Chicago. No interference from parents or jealous friends and money wasn't an issue. So, one night after another long, heart palpitating phone call, I packed up the rental and we left the next morning.
"I'm really glad you're home," Luke said later that night after Lucas was in bed.
We were in the living room, trying to organize the mess I brought from the east coast and the gulf, but after a half hour we gave up and collapsed on the couch.
"I'm glad to be home," I smiled at him.
"Did you ever talk to your mom?"
"Yes, and it went surprisingly well."
I told him about the conversation, including the drowning her in gelatin part.
"Why gelatin?" Luke asked.
"Why not gelatin?"
"Gelatin is tasty."
"Gelatin is scary."
"What? You don't like gelatin?" He looked at me as if I had grown a third eye.
"Not even when it has vodka in it."
"Oh. My. God. I'm in love with a gelatin hater. Not even strawberry gelatin?"
"Nope."
"Grape?"
"No."
"Cherry?"
"Are you deaf? I don't like the stuff."
"I'm insulted," he said, shaking his head. "I can't marry you now. I can't marry someone who doesn't share my love of gelatin."
"Damn. I guess I'll have to marry Tom Cruise instead."
"He's crazy. He won't let you take an aspirin if you get a headache, and he's married to Joey from Dawson's Creek."
"She has a real name. It's not Joey Potter."
"Whatever. You can't marry Tom Cruise."
"I think this is simultaneously the most ridiculous and most serious conversation we've ever had," I said. "I don't like Jell-O and you wear stripes, and I think that is far more offensive, but I'll still marry you despite the stripes."
I pushed myself off of the couch and went to bed. As I lay there, listening to Luke moving around the kitchen, I had to cover my mouth to keep from giggling. We just had a conversation about marriage using stripes and gelatin as a cover up for the fact that we were talking about marriage. Luke proposed through Jell-O and I accepted through stripes. The idiocy of it all had me shaking with excited, silent laughter.
When the bedroom door opened, I covered my head with a pillow to hide the stupid grin on my face and took deep breaths to quell my laughter. After a moment, the pillow was ripped away from me and I could see Luke's face over mine clearly thanks to moonlight shining through the spaces in the blinds.
"What's so funny?" He whispered.
"We are," I said and then pulled him into a kiss.
Again, I felt young, as we made love with giggling, laughter, and absolute delight. And when it was over and Luke was nearly asleep, I whispered a secret into his ear that I had been holding onto for days.
Epilogue
A year has passed, and life is good, most of the time. My father had a heart attack, but is recovering well. My mom spends most of her time in Louisiana now, happily caring for the love of her life. She still invokes my most violent tendencies when I have the pleasure of her company, or when I'm stupid enough to answer her phone calls.
Lucas is giving us the true meaning of Terrible Twos, with tantrums, disobedient behavior and his inability to sit still for even two minutes. I never knew that I had so much patience. My mother tells me that I was horrible at Lucas's age, and on a really crazy day, I can almost forgive her for being the person she is today. Almost.
We bought a house in a Chicago suburb, a few weeks after I returned. It has five bedrooms, two and a half baths, a family room, a formal dining room, a huge back yard, and all of the other normal parts of a house. The travel time to the firm isn't horrible and we're near Lorraine, Lena, Emmet, and Grace. Now our home is used just as much as Lorraine's. It's often full of family and friends, children and good food and drink.
I've made new friends, and though none of them can replace my old friends, they are good, reliable, and fun women. Donya, Mayson, and Tabitha keep in touch regular, with the occasional visit, and I've accepted that they're all able to be good friends without me.
After three months on the market, the property my bar was on was sold. Kyle bought it. He didn't contact me directly, but contacted Luke. Apparently, he ran into my old barmaid, Lilly. After several conversations, they decided to go into business together and open a sports bar.
By the time Kyle called, Luke had already known about what had happened that New Year's night. I imagine that it took an unfathomable amount of self-control for Luke to remain professional and civilized. He dealt with his anger alone, because I wasn't made aware about any of their meetings until the deal was about to close. The way Luke handled the situation made me love him that much more. Even Kyle's actions were admirable. He apologized to Luke for his treatment of me and insisted on keeping their meetings quiet so not to add any unnecessary stress on me.
I was curious about a lot of things, like if Kyle was going to quit Sterling Corp, if he was still clean, and especially if he and Lilly were dating. Maybe later, I'll make a phone call and find out. Then again, maybe not. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't really matter.
For the record, the money that I took from Jessbitch and Walter Sterling was donated to shelters across the country that catered to women and children that are victims of domestic violence. Luke said the money was dirty, and using it for our own personal needs and entertainment would be equally dirty. I, personally, have no problem getting dirty. I feel that I deserve the money, but I really didn't need it, and I didn't want to fight about it.
Only less than two weeks after the gelatin and stripes proposal, the proposal became real, with a diamond ring. Of course I said yes. We were married four months later, in front of all of our family and friends. We skipped a honeymoon for the time being. Luke was very busy at the firm and we were still trying to get settled into our new home.
The secret I had whispered into Luke's ear that long ago night bloomed into a beautiful baby girl named Kaitlyn. She, too looked exactly like Luke. Lucas is in love with his baby sister, calling her Kaywen, the best he could do for a two year old. He watched her sleep, he watched her eat, but he ran away screaming whenever there was a poopy diaper.
Like I said, life is good, most of the time. I argue with my husband, and I am daily tempted to tie my two year old boy to a chair. My house gets out of control with toys and baby items, and I sometimes realize I haven't showered in a couple of days. Sleep eludes me and tequila is out of the question with a breast feeding baby, but I am finally completely happy. My life makes sense and my many mistakes have been left in the past. God knows I'll make a thousand more before I die at an old, ripe age.
Every day I am thankful for Luke, the real love of my life, my Prince Charming, my rescuer. He saved me from my biggest enemy: myself. Parts of me are still broken and cracked, but my children and Luke keep me grounded, and heal me with their constant love and affection.
And let's face it. I am my mother's daughter. I supposed I will always be a bit cracked...
~The End~
"Hey, you." I was sitting alone at a restaurant bar when someone sat beside me and said that. I was prepared to blow him off, but when I looked up, I instantly recognized the man behind the voice.
His name was Leo. I went to high school with him and haven't seen him since I was in college. He had dated my former best friend off and on throughout high school and beyond. I was so shocked to see him hundreds of miles away from where we had grown up, I could only stare at him.
He laughed at me and I smiled. I had always loved his laugh, but so did many girls.
"Wow," I finally managed. "It's been years."
"What are you doing here in Miami?" He asked, leaning into me a little closer.
"Mini vacation," I shrugged. "Just needed to escape the cold weather for a few days."
"Did you come alone?" His eye
brows went up. He was definitely flirting with me.
"I did," I answered carefully. "What are you doing here?"
"I live here. I own this restaurant." He affectionately rubbed the mahogany bar.
“I thought I heard something like that a few years ago, but I thought it was just idle talk from idle people.” I sipped my margarita and quickly let my eyes slide over him while he turned to speak to the bartender. There were muscles pressing against his shirt that were not there ten years ago.
“Whatever she is drinking, keep them coming,” he told the woman. “She doesn’t pay a dime.”
The bartender nodded and smiled briefly at me. I’m sure she was worried that I wouldn’t tip her, and of course I totally would, if I were going to receive free drinks, which I wasn’t.
“Thanks, Leo. That’s sweet, but I’m fully capable of paying for my own drinks.”
He waved a hand and then sipped a drink that was put before him.
“How’s your family?”
“My parents are okay…” I said carefully.
“And your brother?”
I shrugged. My brother Tack’s long relationship with heroin was always a touchy topic.
“How long are you here?” he asked, keeping his eyes locked on mine, making me feel a little nervous.
“As long as I feel like it.” I shrugged. When he looked at me questioningly, I elaborated. “I’m a writer. I have deadlines or whatever, but I’m not tied down to an office or anything.”
“I heard you were a writer," he said and then leaned in close and whispered "but I didn’t think it was just idle talk from idle people.
I felt my face flush. I turned back to my drink so he wouldn’t see it.
“I always knew you would be a writer,” he said, turning around and leaning back against the bar. “So, can I get your number?” He asked the question so casually I thought I misheard him.
“My number?”
“Do you not have a phone? How do people communicate with you? Smoke signals?” The way he said it was reminiscent of the cocky kid I knew years ago and I had the slight urge to shove him off of his bar stool.
“You can’t have my number,” I said, looking at him incredulously.
“Why not?”
“Because you used to date my best friend.”
“Key words: used to. That was years ago, Tabitha.”
“I don’t care if it was kindergarten. There are rules.”
“What rules?” He spread his arms, staring at me like I had three heads, but I could see the amusement in his eyes.
“A good best friend never ever dates her friend’s former boyfriend. Ever.”
“So, you want to date me? You didn't date me before, you know back in college…” He grinned and I smacked his arm. “When was the last time you even spoke to Leslie?”
I sighed sadly, but forced a smile to cover it. “It’s been awhile.”
The truth was it had been more than a year since I had spoken to my old friend, and even then it was just a quick exchange of text messages.
He leaned in close to me again. “I’m sure that Leslie wouldn’t mind you breaking a rule you two probably came up with when you were thirteen years old.”
“Fourteen,” I stifled a giggle.
“Whatever,” He flashed that brilliant smile again. “Besides, you and I were friends – good friends. I’ve really missed you.”
Even though he tried to keep his tone and smile light, I could almost see a pleading in his eyes. I’m such a sucker sometimes.
“Okay. Get your phone out, dummy.” I rolled my eyes. I gave him my number and gave him permission to request me as a friend on Facebook.
“Fantastic. It’s starting to get busy in here and I’m already short-handed today.” He stood up to leave, but to my surprise he reached over and pulled me into a hug. I was startled by how strong his arms felt around me. I hugged him back, meekly. “I will be done at four a.m. if you feel like hanging out.”
I looked at my watch. That was twelve hours away. I looked at him like he was nuts. “I hope to be asleep at four a.m.,” I said. “And I said you can have my number, not hang out with me.”
“Don’t go anywhere yet,” he said, ignoring my last statements. “I will have the chef make you some awesome food to take with you.”
“Okay, Leo.” I didn't see any point in arguing, because I remembered well that he could be pretty persuasive.
He disappeared through a set of double doors on the other side of the room. I tried to pay the bartender for the drinks, but she refused my money.
“At least let me tip you,” I said, shoving money at her again.
“If Leo doesn’t want to accept your money, I won’t either.” She said with a smile and walked away to tend to another customer.
I thought that was silly, but I didn’t press the issue any further.
A margarita and a half later, Leo came through the double doors carrying a paper bag. As he walked across the dining area, most women, young and old, checked him out. A couple of them called him by name. He nodded at them, but didn’t stop to talk, even though one of them, a tall, leggy blonde with big boobs, stood up to greet him.
“I gave you an appetizer, a main course, and a desert.” He handed me the bag. The smells coming from it were mouthwatering.
“What is it?” I asked, and started to peak in the bag. He stopped me by plucking me softly in the forehead.
“No looking until you can sit and eat it.” He said firmly.
“But what is it, Leo?”
“I know you hate mushrooms, so there’s no mushroom in it. I know you don’t like eggs either, so there’s nothing eggy in there. I especially know that you hate any kind of raw fish, so that’s not in there either. You don’t have to worry, Tabs!”
I stared at him, my mouth gaping open. “Leo, it’s been so many years – how do you remember what I like or don’t like?”
He winked at me. “I have a pretty good memory I guess.”
I let out a small giggle and shook my head. “Wow. Okay. Thank you very much, Leo.”
“No problem. I will talk to you very soon, Tabitha.” He said, walking away. Half way across the room, he turned and said “I’ll see you around four a.m.!”
“No, you won’t!” I shook my head, but he just smiled and disappeared behind the doors again.
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