The Last Page: Book 1 of Living, Loving, & Laughing

by Lacy Camey

  I opened the door with fake surprise. “Josh, hi. What brings you here?”

  They both faced me standing in their completely different uniqueness. Josh was void of expression. Orien had nervousness written all over his face.

  “What are you doing here?” I directed the question mainly to Josh, but Orien opened his mouth to answer.

  “I-“

  Josh reached past him and grabbed for the sunflowers on the porch by Orien’s feet. They were beautiful sunflowers, actually one of my favorite flowers, tied with straw yarn.

  Orien had the strangest look on his face when he said, “Those are-“

  But Josh interrupted. “I’m here to see my fiancée.”

  “Fiancée?” Orien, Chloe, and I asked in unison. I felt my stomach drop to my toes. My sister tells me everything!

  “But, she-“ I wanted to spout out, “Why would she marry a guy like you?”

  “You got a pen, bud?” Josh asked Orien.

  Orien grabbed a pen from his pocket and handed it to him with a confused look on his face.

  “Well?” he dramatically began, as he signed his name to the note attached to the flower bouquet.

  Orien tried to speak again. “I… I…”

  I decided to try and help him out a little. “Orien, do you want to say something?”

  “Yeah, those flowers are-“

  “Well, I called your mother, and I’m here to pick up an overnight bag she packed for Maycee. So if you don’t mind,“ Josh interjected.

  “If I don’t mind?”

  I studied him for a second.

  “Then why are you carrying flowers if you knew Maycee wasn’t here?”

  The nametag tucked in the yarn around the sunflower stems started falling. I strained to read the tag, which seemed to have the letters N-O-R. I reached for it, but Josh pulled the flowers away as if he were a five-year-old not wanting to share.

  “I just want to see the flowers,” I said. “Why so defensive?”

  “Why so defensive?” Josh mocked in a Jersey accent with a mousy-sounding voice. Wow. He just went from suave doctor to immature brat in two seconds.

  “You should audition for Disney. I think you’re picking the wrong profession. You’re missing your calling,” I retorted. “Let me see the flowers.” I grabbed for the flowers with one hand, and he pulled back like we were in a tug of war. Suddenly, all of my negative bottled-up energy released. I grabbed the flowers with the tenacity of one competing for the gold in the Olympics, and he let go. Sunflowers went everywhere, as I fell and landed pretty hard on my bottom.

  Josh let himself in the house, walking past me with complete disregard to any injuries I might have sustained. He grabbed my sister’s overnight bag and excused himself.

  “Yeah, okay. At least I’m not holed up on some island because some lame loser left you for another woman, who’s incredibly sexy, I might add, while Daddy feeds the precious therapy bill and you sulk in your misery. Real people move on from their pain.”

  I’m not sulking. I’m healing! I screamed inside. But, I was in control of my emotions. I breathed slowly and practiced my coping mechanism, which required me to calmly close my eyes and think of a place I would like to visit, my favorite food, and then my favorite thing to do. “Tahiti, Mexican food,” I began.

  “Right. And on that note, I’m leaving this nuthouse. Ciao.” He turned for one last glance at my sprained, wrapped wrist. “What? Are you so depressed that you tried to slit your wrist? Probably.” And then he left.

  His words stung my heart so hard. So much so, it felt like he had pushed the automatic cry button. Like you get different options for washing your clothes—light wash, heavy wash—he went straight for the heavy and extra-downpour cycle. I didn’t care that Orien was still standing right there. Sitting on the floor in the middle of the sunflowers, I started sobbing. Again. How many times was this guy going to see me cry?

  It felt like the ton of bricks that had taken a momentary vacation came back to visit my chest.

  Orien let himself in and, again, found himself in the same position from hours earlier—helping me off the ground. “It’s okay, Norah. Don’t cry. I hate to see pretty girls cry.”

  “Oh, my gosh! What a pig!” Chloe commented, shaking her head in disapproval.

  “He really knows how to get under my skin,” I said in between sobs.

  “I can see that. Are you okay?”

  “No! My whole world is upside down. I feel like I’m eating at the perfect French restaurant, and the waiter comes up to pull the tablecloth as an elaborate trick. But the trick fails, and the food ends up all on my lap. I feel plastered with the mess!”

  “You sure do have a way with analogies,” Chloe noted.

  Orien gathered the sunflowers and grabbed the tag off the floor and put it in his pocket.

  “Why don’t we go for a walk? Let’s take Coco.” He helped me off the ground. “Your wrist okay?”

  “Oh, fun,” Chloe said. But after a pleading look from Orien, she quickly added, “I mean, why don’t I get Coco’s leash for you? Don’t be gone for too long. You need to ice your wrist.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Moments later, we were outside. The sun was setting, and the sky was beautiful.

  Between the salt in the air and the salt from my tears, it was hard to tell which was which. The breeze felt cold on my face, and I shivered. My eyes wouldn’t stop leaking tears.

  “Please don’t cry anymore. It’ll be okay.” Orien gently wiped at my tears. “Such a beautiful night it’s turning into. That jerk isn’t worth your tears.”

  I watched him walk Coco, such a manly, buff man walking a frou-frou dog wearing couture clothes. It was a sight for sure, but a warming one.

  A few women of luxury were walking our way.

  “You know, Norah, I know you’re probably tired of hearing this, but everything happens for a reason.”

  I really didn’t feel like another lecture, but on the same note, I did not feel like complaining any further.

  “I uh, well, uh…” He stopped walking.

  I stopped walking and looked at him. I studied his face. The nervous look from earlier reappeared. “You what?”

  “I-“

  “Oh, my Gawsh!” a woman with big red hair and expensive diamond jewelry hanging from every limb possible said. “Would you look at this little fuwball and this adowable outfit?”

  I smiled proudly.

  “Excuse me, miss, but just where did you get this adowable dowggie owtfit? I must have one fwah my little Toto.”

  “Uh, well, actually, I made it.”

  “You made it?”

  “Yes, I’m a designer, and well-“

  “Fabulous, darling. I must have your card, then. Do you have one on you? I just must have a custom cah-tour owtfit for Toto!”

  Naturally, my hands touched the top of my thighs again in search for my pockets-dress.

  “I actually don’t. I’m sorry”

  “Well, what’s your number, dear? I must get with you as soon as possible. I’ll pay whatever you name. I’m going on vacation in a few weeks, and I would just love for Toto to be the best-dressed dowggie there.”

  Her two friends looked at her in utter jealousy. Then, her phone rang.

  “Oh, one second, dear. I must take this.” She walked three feet away and began yapping loudly. I stood looking at the other two women. Then, I looked around to see if there were any cameras because they seemed like the perfect clan for Real Housewives of New York.

  “Whatever she’ll pay you, I’ll pay double if you’ll dress my little Chanel.”

  Taken aback, I said, “Well uh…“

  “Now, Nancy, that’s not fair. Toto and Chanel cannot out dress my Prince.” She looked at her friend in scorn, then back to me. “I’ll pay triple the price, Miss, uh…”

  “Oh, um, Norah.”

  Was this seriously happening?

  “Well, right. May I have your number, Norah?” she asked, as she ey
ed my wrist. “Oh, how awful. Are you able to sew?”

  “Unfortunately, not for a few days. I have to rest it. I-“

  “That’s fine, dear. Number?” she proceeded impatiently, her second of care out the window.

  I gave her my number just as lady of luxury number one got off the phone. Her two friends smiled at her mischievously.

  “Sorry about that, dear. May I have your contact number?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  After I gave her my number, they were on their merry way.

  “That was interesting,” Orien said.

  “Yeah, tell me about it.”

  “Curious, if three women who have more money than they know what to do with all tell you they want you to design doggie clothes for their fwuh balls,” he said in earnest attempt to mock a New York accent, “just how much would you charge? Nice little business you would have going.”

  I thought about it. “Yeah, you’re right.” I let the thought linger, but not for too long. “So, what were you saying earlier?”

  “Well, I have to be honest with you about something.” He stopped again, shifted his weight, then looked at the clouds in the sky. Clearly uncomfortable, he nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I like you, Norah. I like you a lot.”

  I stood in shock. You like me? Just out, just like that?

  “But I liked you before I met you.”

  “What do you mean?

  “You said something in your house that resonated with me and confirmed it all, that it’s your journal I found.”

  “That it’s my journal?” I asked with the best convincing ticked-off, yet embarrassed tone.

  “And before you get mad at me, I want you to listen.“

  I began to protest. I tried to act like it was a complete shock, that I didn’t know. “What? How could… what do you mean?”

  But he put his finger to my lips. “And I like what I read. I guess what I am saying is, I like you. I like you, the you inside. Yes, I got confused at first with your sister, but it all was to happen for a reason, I see now, because it allowed me to meet you.”

  I didn’t know what to say. He really likes me, I thought.

  I guess he didn’t know what to say, either, because to fill the void of words, he leaned in close, and kissed me. We kissed!

  “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You don’t have to say anything back. Those sunflowers, those were for you. But that jerk took them from me.” He pulled the tag out of his pocket and showed it to me with a shy look.

  Norah was written on it.

  “Yeah, I know.” I smiled. “I saw a little part of my name when Josh, unbeknownst to him, let it linger. I saw the Nor part.”

  I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going to go from there. I was in shock that he had been brave enough to confess his intention. He liked me. What man living in this day and age, unless they were time traveling from past centuries, was bold enough to say how they felt instead of resorting to playing games. The games of, “Guess if I like you or not by my flirting and witty banter.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it’s so personal. But it was a very interesting read, I must say,” he said.

  Embarrassed, all I could say was an honest, “Thanks.” I looked down at my toes.

  “Well, let’s get you back. You need to ice your wrist.”

  We made our way back to the house, letting the seagulls and wind fill the silence. It wasn’t a bad silence, though. It was a knowing silence of something good in the future.

  He opened the glass door that led into the sitting room, a.k.a. my creating room. His eyes naturally went to my sketches and magazine.

  “Oh, feel free to look.” Truth is, I didn’t want him to leave. So whatever he wanted to do that would make him stay longer, he could do. I was enjoying his company, especially after that kiss.

  I watched his careful admiration of my sketches and collage boards plastered with fabric, magazine pictures, and my own drawings. “These are incredible,” he said. “You are really talented.”

  “Thanks,” I said in complete meekness, my shyness taking over.

  “So, want some ice cream? I’m going to have some. It always makes me feel better.” I made my way to the kitchen.

  “Oh, can’t pass up the ice cream. So, definitely. Please.” He followed me to the kitchen. “But, let me help you. You should sit down.”

  “My leg isn’t broken!”

  “I insist.” He gently led me to sit on the barstool.

  So I sat down at his gentlemanly persistence. “Left hand, ice freezer. Cookies and Cream, please.” I shot him an angelic look.

  He opened the freezer and laughed at the vast array, and I mean vast array, of choices.

  “Wow, is this an ice cream parlor?”

  “I’m drowning my sorrows in ice cream.”

  He placed the ice cream on the island. “Well, hopefully you won’t have to do any more drowning of sorrows, because I’m here.” He winked. “Bowls?”

  “Right above the dishwasher,” I directed.

  I heard Chloe’s flip-flops as she walked down the hallway, the only place in the house, besides the bedrooms, where you couldn’t see everything happening inside through the glass.

  “Hey, you two having ice cream in here? I want some.” She glanced at her watch. “Norah, it’s been forty-five minutes, you need to ice your wrist. Lay down on the couch, missy.”

  I stood up, feeling like a child with everyone ordering me around. I sulked my way over to the couch for the dramatic effect.

  “She’s a nurse, Orien. Can’t you tell?” I asked over my shoulder.

  “Making you feel better is my specialty. Speaking of, how’s the pain? You can take your pain medicine in two more hours. Ice cream is fine for now, but you’ll need something more sustaining later.”

  Before Chloe could continue, Orien suggested the best idea ever. “How about we order pizza?”

  The medicine was making me so hungry, and my mood was very much in need of comfort food. Pizza sounded great.

  “Purrr-fect idea, Orien!”

  Chloe made a small detecting look between the two of us. The average human would not have noticed it, but I did because I know Chloe. It was the look of, “Something is going on between you two.”

  “Yum! That just sounds so perfect!” I egged on the answer.

  He headed toward where I was lying, toward my little elevation station. He helped himself and sat down right by me. “If you don’t eat your ice cream, it will melt.”

  “I know, but my hand… I’m right-handed.“ I was struggling to eat with my left hand.

  “It’s your lucky day, then.” He reached for my bowl.

  “But yours will melt!”

  Oh, my gosh. Was he really going to feed me? Him being so close made me just so nervous and filled with butterflies!

  “Open up, little birdy. We’ll alternate.” He held the bowl in one hand, spoon in other, and fed me.

  But the ice cream spilled down my chin because his choice of description made me laugh. “Little birdy?” I laughed and tried to wipe my chin.

  “Yeah, I know that was cheese. But you know you liked it.” He grabbed a napkin and dabbed my chin. “Sorry.” He laughed.

  I just knew, just knew, Chloe was dying with laughter in the kitchen. She made her way to the couch and interrupted our feeding. “Excuse me, papa bird, but this little chirpy-chirp here needs ice. Don’t mind me. I’ll just be a minute.”

  She applied the ice pack, rewrapped my wrist, and looked at her watch.

  “Twenty minutes, Norah! No ifs or buts. And try to keep the whining to a minimum.”

  She sat down on the chair nearby and turned on the TV. Orien went back to feeding me.

  “More, please.” I smiled as I found myself feeling comfortable with teasing and just being my goofy self.

  “Oh, look. 27 Dresses is on,” Chloe squealed.

  “Oh, well, we just have to watch it, then,” Orien said with enthusiasm dripping in
sarcasm.

  Good thing I detected sarcasm easily because, if he hadn’t just kissed me, I’d swear that with his knowledge of tea, his overly fake enthusiasm of chick flicks, his natural ability to notice my feelings, and his sensitive side, I would have thought he was hiding in the closet.

  Thank goodness he wasn’t, though. No closets for him.

  He stayed for the pizza, finished the chick flick with us, then asked as he got ready to leave, “Are you a morning person?”

  “Depends on who’s asking and the proposition.”

  “Join me for something fun tomorrow. But you have to be ready at eight.”

  “What should I wear?”

  “Hmm… nautical and your swimsuit, if you like. No pressure.”

  “Seriously? After eating ice cream, and pizza, and…“

  “You look great,” he assured me.

  Chloe sprang straight from her chair and interrupted. “But what about her icing?”

  “I can promise you she’ll have ice for it,” Orien answered.

  “Well, okay then. See you at eight.”

  “Great.” He smiled, kissed me on the cheek, winked, and left.

  I immediately turned to Chloe with a huge smile on my face and started jumping up and down.

  She ran over to me. “Dish! Okay, so seriously, what just happened? What’s going on?”

  Ignoring her question, I shot straight to it, “Okay, we are so going running now. I’m drinking a laxative tea! Do you think the sauna at the gym is open? I’ll be in a swimsuit tomorrow, and I just ate a ton of crap. Because I don’t know if you noticed, but have you seen him? He’s smokin’ hot!”

  Then there was a tiny tap on my shoulder, and I screamed! It was Orien.

  I smiled an innocent smile. Crap, he heard everything I just said. How mortifying.

  “Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or interrupt your conversation but well, you forgot to shut the door, and I left my phone. Don’t mind me.” He smirked. He had totally heard everything! Then he left again.

  “Chloe, you won’t believe it. He read my journal. All of it.”