Loving a Wildflower

by Amanda Torrey

  “I wondered why you were up and about so early after coming in so late last night. Everything okay?”

  The night Luke walked in on his then-girlfriend screwing her dental hygienist on their living room couch, he had grabbed a few things and crashed at Aleen’s apartment. They worked opposite hours, usually, but when they had free time together, it was nice to have a semblance of normalcy and some company from the only woman—aside from his mother—he could ever trust.

  “Oh, snap. Check that out.” Aleen flicked her head toward the action on the front steps of the townhouse.

  Luke laughed as the gangly hygienist struggled under the weight of the queen-sized mattress. Ex-bitch’s shrill voice carried over the passing cars as she screamed at her new catch about nearly making her fall down the stairs.

  “Damn, she really traded up, huh?” Aleen joked.

  Luke flexed his muscles, showing off his superiority. “I’ve got the pipes, but he can clean her teeth.”

  “All I can say is that catching her in the act was probably the best thing that could have happened to you. I told you all along that—”

  “I know, I know. She wasn’t the right one for me. Okay, Ms. Always Right. I get it. I will let you pick my girlfriends from now on.”

  “I’d never subject anyone I know to you…”

  “I’m wounded.” He clutched his heart, then glanced over to see the thin guy across the street dropping the mattress into the mud in the front yard.

  Luke clapped loudly. “Three points for moving crew of the year!”

  “Shut up, asshole!” The shrill and unpleasant voice of his ex carried across the street.

  How had he put up with that noise for six whole months?

  “Wish I could be half as thin as that guy,” Aleen said, cocking her head to the side to study the man with the mattress.

  “Are you kidding? You’re perfect just the way you are.”

  “Ooh, someone is wearing his charmer pants today. Does this mean you’ll stop making me salads?”

  “I make you salads so you’ll have the energy to deal with your psychiatric patients. You can’t live on granola bars and chips, you know.”

  “Oh, you’d be surprised.” She winked at him.

  “Not cool, Leeni. Not cool. I have patients who eat better than you do.” Considering he was a veterinarian, this was really saying something. “Especially since Savannah Elliott opened up that gourmet dog food store.”

  “Okay, seriously. I’ve gotta go.” Aleen kissed Luke on the cheek. “Hope you plan to shave before being my pretend boyfriend.”

  “I’ll set aside some dinner for you,” Luke shouted as she walked away.

  “Don’t worry about it—I’ll eat at the hospital.”

  Luke watched her walk away, wondering why he couldn’t find a woman as wonderful as Aleen to fall in love with.

  ***

  Aleen swung her legs as they dangled from the uncomfortable examination seat. The paper crinkled beneath her thick thighs, distracting her from processing the words her gynecologist had said.

  “Are you saying I can’t have kids?”

  The doctor leaned forward, resting her elbow on her clipboard.

  “I’m saying that you may want to consider your options, particularly given your mother’s history of complete hysterectomy at age thirty-one and the fact that you show signs of a similar condition. I want you to be prepared, and since you’re not presently trying for a baby, it may be time to consider harvesting your eggs.”

  Aleen laughed out loud. “Sounds so… paranormal.”

  Dr. Michaels smiled. “I think it would be your best shot. When the time is right, you would have the option of surrogacy, IVF, or some other choices.” Dr. Michaels scribbled on her notepad. “Here’s the number for a friend of mine. He is the best in his field. Give him a call, maybe set up an appointment to discuss future plans.”

  “I’m not even thirty.” Aleen stared at the hands on her lap. They belonged to her—she knew that. Yet they were so foreign. Why were they shaking? The Aleen she knew could handle any crisis with ease.

  “I know this can be difficult to process. You may have no issues at all when it’s time to conceive. But given your strong desire to bear children, I think it’s best to explore all your options now while there are still options.”

  “My mother wanted more kids. She was devastated when she had that hysterectomy. You wouldn’t believe how much she apologized to me for making me an only child as I was growing up.”

  “Mourning the loss of potential children is a common side effect of hysterectomy,” the doctor agreed.

  Aleen said her goodbyes to the doctor and hopped off the chair in a haze. Her sloppily folded clothes called out to her from across the room, begging her to slip them on so she could drown herself in work. As she slipped her comfortable, white, boring bikini underwear over her legs, she was forced to face the facts.

  She was twenty-nine years old, soon to be thirty. She hadn’t been in a relationship for three years—not even a physical one. She should have asked Dr. Michaels if her hymen had grown back or if cobwebs had gathered up there. She wanted a baby—it was part of her life plan.

  Wearing sensible, boring underwear wasn’t getting her any closer to her goal.

  What would her life look like if she wasn’t able to have kids the way she had always planned?

  Exactly like this.

  Her life would be the same—working too much, watching too much television, eating too much over-processed fast food.

  Aleen smiled at the receptionist on her way out the door, but her mind raced with what she could do to set her plan into motion.

  She needed a man. Fast.

  ***

  “We can’t take any more patients—our beds are full.” Sabrina, the only coworker Aleen could tolerate when things were this crazy, hollered to the intake coordinator. “No, we can’t put anyone in with Room 4—we don’t have the staffing to keep them safe, and if Room 4 ends up restrained again, I’ll knock a few staff heads together.”

  “Why don’t you just say what you mean, Sabrina?” Aleen chewed on the end of her pen. She had taken a moment to sit and sip some of her now-ice cold tea while she made a list of non-essential tasks she needed to remember to complete before clocking out.

  “Boinking bananas, I tell ya. Is it a full moon tonight? And did someone at the last staff meeting say everyone should behave irrationally when we’re at our busiest? Because, I swear, if one more doctor tries to tell me how to do my job…”

  “Did you get those labs back for 2A yet?” Aleen smiled and tossed her pen on the desk. “She’s worried that she’s pregnant. I told her she probably is not since they dry humped through their clothes, according to her. Don’t look at me like that, I can’t make this shit up.”

  “That’s the problem.” Sabrina logged into the computer and looked up the patient’s labs. “You won’t believe this…”

  “Damn. Guess our little friend isn’t being honest with us. Or that guy she’s with has some mega swimmers.”

  Aleen wheeled her desk chair over to the computer to peer over Sabrina’s shoulder. “No kidding. Guess I’ll go break the news to her.”

  “That’s the fourth prego patient on the floor tonight. Definitely a full moon.”

  Aleen downed the rest of her tea, recoiling when a clump of sugar from the bottom of the cup filled her mouth.

  “By the way, I need your help when things settle down here.”

  “I’m all yours, girl.” Sabrina didn’t look up from the computer. “What’s up?”

  “I need you to help me sign up for a matchmaking site or two.”

  Sabrina spun around. “Did I hear you right? Have you finally moved into the stage of acceptance?”

  Aleen rolled her eyes. “Your voice gets squeakier and squeakier.”

  In an even higher pitch, Sabrina said, “That’s because I’m so happy!”

  When Aleen returned from speaking to her patient—who was
deliriously happy in spite of her unstable life and the new life she was bringing into it—she found a note from Sabrina with a web address and password. Next to that note was a packaged dinner with her name scrawled across the aluminum foil in Luke’s masculine handwriting.

  Since she hadn’t had time to go to the cafeteria before it closed, she was especially grateful for Luke’s special delivery.

  As she bit into the juicy burger (didn’t matter that it was cold—nurses learned very quickly that they’d never be able to eat hot food on shift), Aleen glanced over her shoulder to be sure no one was around. She logged in, heart pounding as she saw the profile picture Sabrina had chosen for her.

  Sabrina returned and leaned against the back of Aleen’s chair. “Like it? You can modify the details in the ‘looking for’ section, ‘cause I haven’t a clue what you think you want in a man.”

  “Thanks for setting it up. Where did you get this photo?”

  “That’s from the staff Christmas party when you were laughing at something that insanely hot veterinarian friend of yours said. I’ve never seen you light up more than when you’re with him.”

  “Oh, please. He probably said something to humiliate me.”

  “Maybe,” Sabrina sighed. “I’d let him humiliate me any way he wanted.”

  “You’re terrible, Sabrina. But hey, he’s newly single. You could make your move.”

  “Yeah, as soon as I dump my lump of a husband. But it’ll take me too long to get his lazy ass off my couch, and by then I have no doubt Mr. Good With Animals and Probably Better With Women will be off the market again.”

  “Doubtful. He hates relationships. Only managed to get suckered into the last one because it’s his mother’s dying wish to see him happy and committed.”

  “So why don’t you two hook up?”

  Aleen laughed so loud, she startled one of the patients as she walked by. She waved a reassurance and the patient kept walking.

  “If you knew Luke like I know Luke, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”

  Loud, angry shouting from down the hall put an end to the discussion, as both nurses barreled toward the crisis to intervene.

  Hours later, exhausted and sore, Aleen dragged her tired butt out of the hospital.

  By the time she made it to her house, she had fifteen texts in her message center. One from her mother (who else would contact her on a Saturday night?) and fourteen from Luke, wondering where she was and how long it would take her to get there.

  She had hoped she could avoid the social thing. She loved Jake’s Lounge and enjoyed spending time there on the weekends, but after the emotionally draining day she had, she wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with Dagger, the dog she shared with Luke, and curl up with one of the twenty books she had stacked on her nightstand, waiting for her to dive in.

  Luke continued texting. The only way to get him to shut up was to text him back telling him she was nearly done changing and would be there in a bit.

  Her doctor’s appointment and the extra hours she had worked had left her feeling drained. And old. And depressed.

  Probably a good thing she allowed Luke to talk her into going in spite of her reluctance. If she fell asleep now, she may never wake up.

  Flipping through her bland wardrobe—why were her scrubs so much more appealing to her than anything else she owned?—she vowed to change her ways.

  She had to meet a man. Not just any man, either. She wasn’t about to settle. She wanted a baby, but more than that, she craved a family.

  Aleen smiled thinking about the matchmaking profile Sabrina had set up for her. Soon she’d have eligible men messaging her for dates, and she didn’t know why the idea thrilled her so much.

  Must have been her ovaries standing up and cheering.

  Aleen pulled a red shirt from the back of her closet. It had been a spontaneous purchase many years ago, but she had never taken the tags off even though when she had tried it on in the store, she had never felt more desirable.

  The shirt did the job. It showcased her generous breasts in a way that made her look less frumpy. She wouldn’t call herself sexy by any means, but this shirt and the pair of jeans that felt a little too tight for comfort, but smoothed out the muffin top in spite of their tightness, made her feel like a woman who could potentially garner a second glance.

  There was no one in Healing Springs she could imagine being interested in, but if she were about to start dating, she probably should practice flirting and feeling comfortable in her own overweight skin.

  Aleen downed a can of Diet Pepsi to perk herself up, then jumped back in her car to go bat the women off her gorgeous best friend.

  Dear Reader,

  I hope you fell as deeply in love with Simplicity and Ethan as I did.

  I didn’t set out to write a story about characters with mental health issues, but Simplicity demanded that I tell the truth about her. As an avid supporter of mental health education, I hope that presenting this story of a young woman with a big, beautiful future who also happens to be afflicted with bipolar disorder will in some small way help the fight against the stigma of mental illness.

  Simplicity should not be defined by having bipolar disorder, and neither should any people in the non-fictional world. People with mental illness are people first—their mental illness impacts their lives in many ways, but it is not the only part of them worth noticing. According to some statistics, nearly one in five people suffer from some form of mental illness. They need help and understanding, not judgment.

  If you or a loved one are living with mental illness and you need support, please reach out. There are many organizations available for support and education. Please don’t feel ashamed of carrying a diagnosis—it is one small part of a beautiful puzzle.

  For more information, please visit the National Alliance on Mental Illness (www.nami.org) or the Depression and Bipolar Support Alliance (www.dbsalliance.org).

  Thank you for reading this, and I hope you’ll join me for book 6 in the Healing Springs series—Aleen and Luke’s story (Aleen was the friendly psychiatric nurse who took care of the cat during Simplicity’s treatment planning meeting, and Luke is the cute vet Ethan’s mother wanted to hit on…)

  Yours in reading,

  ~Amanda 

  More From Amanda Torrey

  If you enjoyed this book, would you please consider leaving an honest review where you purchased the book? Reviews help other readers discover new authors and help authors be able to write more books. The review doesn’t have to be lengthy—even a couple of sentences would be great! Thank you so much for being the best reader ever.

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  Books by Amanda Torrey

  Teen Fury Trilogy (Young Adult Paranormal)

  Unleashed (Book One)

  Embraced (Book Two)

  Atoned (Book Three)

  Teen Fury Trilogy: The Complete Collection (Boxed Set)

  Healing Springs Series (Adult Contemporary Romance)

  *Books in this series can be read in any order*

  Not Over You

  Stay

  A Heart to Call Home

  Two Is A Lonely Number

  Loving a Wildflower

  So Complicated

  Paisley's story - Coming Soon!

  Also by Amanda Torrey

  The Immortal Contract (Adult Paranormal Romance)

  MORE THAN PANCAKES: Intro

  Please enjoy this first chapter of a great book by my friend, Christine DePetrillo. The link to the full book is at the end of the excerpt. Happy reading!

  MORE THAN PANCAKES

  Book One in The Maple Leaf Series

  by Christine DePetrillo

  More Than Pancakes - Chapter One

  “Leave it, Poe. Quit fooling around.”
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  Rick Stannard wrestled his glove away from his coyote. She was forever burying, slobbering all over, or chewing holes in his good work gloves. Ever since he’d rescued the abandoned, starving pup from the woods at the edge of his property, he’d been living with the eccentricities of having an animal meant for the wild living in his cabin. He’d trained her. Knew she wouldn’t attack him while he slept, but now and then, her feral nature would flare up. Poe considered it playing, and most of the time so did Rick, but today he had to insert the taps on his maple trees and inspect the lines. The sap was about to run and that meant the Stannard Mountain Pure Vermont Maple Syrup Company—Rick’s company—was all systems green.

  “C’mon, you beast. We don’t have all morning to waste. We’ve got work to do.” Rick gave a final tug that freed his glove from Poe’s jaws. He stumbled back, landing on his backside on the hickory floor of his small kitchen. “Brat.” He swiped Poe’s muzzle with his glove.

  The coyote licked his hand and happily trotted beside Rick as he went into the garage to load his sled with the necessary tools. Clothed in his snow pants, thermal shirt, fleece jacket, knit hat, boots, and snowshoes, Rick was ready for a day out on his three-hundred acre property in the woods of Danton, Vermont. He’d upgraded his equipment, all gravity-fed lines, about three years back. The only assistance he accepted was from his aunt, Joy Stannard, and his cousins, Hope and Sage, who ran the bakery and book swap storefront of the business during the late winter and early spring months. Customers needed a cozy, friendly little shop from which to purchase their maple products. Rick didn’t do cozy or friendly, but Aunt Joy and his cousins excelled in both areas.

  Leaving the sled outside, he pushed open the door to the storefront and let Poe scurry in first.

  “Morning, Rick! I was thinking if we arranged the tables this way, it would allow for more interaction between customers, and if the customers interact more, this place could become the social center of Danton. It would mean more sales, more book swapping, more action. Sometimes this place can be such a tomb, but with the tables like this, maybe some hot, interesting guys will come in and whisk me away to—”