Forget-Me-Not

by Kris Bryant

  “Grace, you’re back.” Conor pulls up beside me on his scooter with the biggest smile on his face.

  “What happened to the van?” I ask.

  “It’s in the shop for an oil change and few other minor things. I’ll pick it up in the morning.”

  I sigh and, with a rush of pure adrenaline, I reach over and place my hands on the handlebars. “Conor, I need your bike,” I blurt out.

  “Do you want me to give you a ride instead? I know you aren’t crazy about driving here.”

  I don’t want to give Kerry’s secret spot away so I shake my head.

  He shrugs and runs through instructions on how to work it, telling me tricks to get it started if it gets stubborn. I haven’t driven a scooter in fifteen years. And this one is older than that. He hands me the helmet and wishes me well. “Be careful. I’m so happy for all of us.” He’s so genuine, I lean over and kiss him on his cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bright and early. Thank you, Grace, for not shutting us down,” he says. I jump on the scooter knowing that I’m about to face two of my biggest fears: driving in Ireland, and getting rejected by the woman I love.

  “Wish me luck.” I put Conor’s massive helmet on. He laughs and takes a pic of me with his cell.

  “If that shows up anywhere on social media, I’ll have you sweeping the floors every day and taking out the trash.” I point threateningly.

  “I already do that now,” he says. I give him an eye roll and gingerly ease into traffic. This drive will age me. It takes me a few minutes to get the feel of his scooter. Thankfully, the traffic is light and nobody rides my ass. They all give me space and pass when they can. I concentrate as hard as I can to drive on the left instead of the right. As long as I focus on the car in front of me, I stay in the correct lane. I start to panic a little because I’m not confident on where the dirt road is and it’s starting to get dark out. I know the road is coming up soon because I start recognizing the view. I slow down and a few cars honk at me, but I don’t care. My heart jumps when I see the familiar windy road and signal to turn. If she’s not here, I’m going to cry and camp out until morning because I’m not driving this hunk of junk at night.

  It seems like I follow the trail forever. I know I’m close because I recognize the stone wall on my left and the really cool tree with limbs that brush the ground. I see her bike up ahead. Apparently she hasn’t heard the rinky-dink scooter. I know she’s here though, and I feel hot and cold at the same time. I shake because I’m emotional and the fate of my life is going to be determined in just a few minutes. She’s either going to be happy to see me, or I just made the biggest mistake of my life. I know Conor’s scooter isn’t designed for bumpy terrain so I park it and walk to the cliff. I have to stop myself from running to her. I touch her bike as I pass it, remembering the incredible time we had that one Sunday not too long ago. She is sitting on the grass, her knees up, her ankles crossed. Her hair is pulled back and she is completely lost in thought. I pluck a forget-me-not and walk softly over to her. I’m not sure what to do or say, but I just need to be with her right now. She still doesn’t hear me. I’m right behind her. I put the flower in front of her and she jumps, completely startled. My heart breaks at the tears she’s clearly been crying for so long. I kneel beside her and she falls into my arms. I don’t know when I start crying, but we are both sobbing and clinging to each other.

  “Grace, what are you doing here?” She pushes me away only to stare at me in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

  “I can’t be away from you. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in this lifetime. You are smart, sexy, fun, passionate, stubborn, and I’m unbelievably head-over-heels in love with you. I love your hopes, and your dreams, and your passion for life. I love your family, and how close you are with them. I miss you. I need you. I’m here, Kerry. I’m here in Ireland for good.” So much for feeling her emotions out first before I open up. She stares at me, her eyes searching mine, and I’m about ready to pass out from embarrassment. “And I really miss Abram. I can’t imagine my life without him either.” For some reason, that breaks her. She sobs again and I don’t know if it’s because she’s happy or completely sad. Horrible thoughts are in my head right now. Maybe she met somebody. Maybe she always had somebody. No, maybe she got married! My heart is pounding. Every beat feels like five minutes apart, when I know it’s really beating unbelievably fast in my chest. “Please, Kerry, please say something. I’m dying here.” She cries even harder. “At least let me know if you want me here.”

  “Yes! Oh my God, Grace. I just can’t believe you’re here. How? What? Why?” She touches my face, my hair, my shoulders. She’s crying and hiccupping with laughter, which is surprisingly confusing.

  “I hate my life without you in it. I have nothing in Dallas. I rarely talk to my dad or my brother so they aren’t going to miss me. I’ll probably do consulting work for Shumer & Bristol so that will keep me busy when The Irish Garden is slow. I sold my car, I put my condo on the market, and my stuff should be here in two weeks. I’m going to live above the flower shop and I’m going to date you and do everything right. You are what I want. You.” I kiss her softly.

  She pulls me close to her again. “Grace, I’m just so happy. I love you so much. I’ve been dead inside since Dallas. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think it was fair to put that pressure on you.” She cries harder.

  “Are you kidding me? I was so worried you wouldn’t be happy that I’m here. I thought maybe you found someone else. You sounded so final the last time we spoke.”

  She puts her forehead against mine. “That was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Let you go. My heart hurt and every breath I took was painful. I’ve been a mess for weeks.” She kisses me softly at first, then possessively. I submit willingly. “Sit down with me. Our first of every sunset in Ireland.” She sits down, but instead of sitting next to her, I straddle her lap. “What are you doing, love?” I want to hear her call me that every day of my life. Love.

  “I want to look at you right now. Aunt Nola waited a long time before she confessed her love to Kate and I don’t want to waste any time with you. She wouldn’t want me to either. See? I’m learning so much from her.” I lock my fingers behind her neck.

  “You are missing out on a great sunset.” She pretends to look around me.

  “I’m not missing out on anything. I have the one thing I want right in front of me.” I’m rewarded with another passionate kiss.

  “It’s a beautiful sunset,” she teases. Her eyes haven’t left mine.

  I sigh playfully and twist around to see it. “You’re right. It’s beautiful. There. Are you happy now?”

  “I couldn’t be happier.” We kiss and as we heat up, Kerry unbuttons my shirt after pulling it from my jeans. I moan at the familiarity of her touch. I’ve missed her so much and I promise right then and there that I will do everything in my power to keep her happy for the rest of our lives. “How about we head back to Howth and celebrate the fact that you’re here? And speaking of which, how did you get here?” I point to Conor’s scooter off in the distance. She throws her head back and laughs. “Wait. You drove in Ireland?”

  I shrug like it’s no big deal even though I’m still shaky about it. “The things I will do for love.” She hugs me tightly until I squeal with happiness and alarm as my oxygen is cut off.

  “I love you, Grace Danner. Let’s go celebrate.”

  “I love you, too, Kerry Mulligan. I will go back to Howth with you and celebrate, but only under one condition.”

  “Whatever you want, love.”

  “You drive.”

  Epilogue

  Six Months Later

  “Are you sure we’re ready to have Christmas here?” I’m completely stressed out about twenty people and tiny Ian here at our place. We’re still new hands at this farming thing, especially me, and trying to organize a major family dinner may have been a bit premature.

  “Love, we are only responsible for the
turkey. Everybody else is bringing a side. Please don’t worry. I’m sure it will be wonderful.” Kerry leans over and kisses me, trying to ease my nerves. “Our place looks great. You’ve done a remarkable job here. And all of the stubborn animals are staying in their pens for a change. Today is going to be perfect.”

  Yesterday was a hot mess. I came home after closing up The Irish Garden for the holiday to several of our goats standing on the front wall by the road. And to top that off, Kerry didn’t latch the sunroom when she left and two goats made their way into it, eating the few plants I managed not to kill over the fall, as well as a few cushions on the wicker furniture. I was livid. The goats didn’t care. Kerry just laughed and told me this will happen. I grabbed Abram and hid in the bedroom until Kerry came upstairs to tell me everything was cleaned up. I apologized for being upset by it, and she apologized that it happened in the first place. She also assured me that this wasn’t going to be the one and only time it would happen.

  “Do you think you will be able to take a nap today?” Kerry asks. We’ve been up since four this morning.

  “I doubt it. I still need to get presentable and our guests will be here in three hours.” Conor, who now lives in the apartment above The Irish Garden, is getting back from his family’s celebration and will be here tonight, as will Leigh and Charles. They are, after all, my family, too.

  “Thank you for doing this.” Kerry takes me in her arms, giving me a much needed and appreciated break. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. You are my favorite Christmas present. Ever,” I say.

  “Thank you for giving up everything to be with me. I’m the luckiest girl in the whole world. Do you want my present now or after everybody leaves?” Usually after opening presents we end up having really great sex and since we are pressed for time, I tell her we should wait until everybody leaves. Besides, I want it to just be us when I propose.

  About the Author

  Kris Bryant grew up a military brat living in several different countries before her family settled down in the Midwest when she was twelve. Books were her only form of entertainment overseas, and she read anything and everything within her reach. Reading eventually turned into writing when she decided she didn’t like the way some of the novels ended and wanted to give the characters she fell in love with the ending she thought they so deserved.

  Earning a B.A. in English from the University of Missouri, Kris focused more on poetry, and after some encouragement from her girlfriend, decided to tackle her own book.

  Kris can be contacted at krisbryantbooks@gmail.com

  Website: http://www.krisbryant.net

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