I kept myself in good spirits, going for a walk every morning, learning the names of the regular people out and about on the small-town streets. From the newspaper guy, to the lady that sold apples on the corner, I was slowly making my face known. I wasn’t sure where she got the apples from but she had them in the dead of winter, which was strange to me but I wasn’t going to complain. I had been doing the same thing every morning for weeks, even leading up to when I took my manuscript, sealed it tightly in a large envelope, and headed to the post office to overnight it to my publisher. When I had written the last words of that chapter, I knew, without a doubt, that the book was exactly what I wanted.
The next day I went to work on the rest of my plan and sold my house within three days of putting it on the market. I had a really awesome real estate agent out in California and people were always looking for homes out there. I had my publisher rewrite my bio, making sure that it stated that I lived in a small town, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. On the dedication page of my final book, there were only two names. Rory and Melissa, my main character and the one that I saw Rory’s face in the entire time I was finishing up the series. I hadn’t yet met Rory when I wrote the other books, but Rory and Melissa were so similar it was eerie, and I was just as fond of both of them, Rory even more than the other.
The wait after that, it was a struggle to say the least. I had finally tidied up everything, getting rid of all my ties in California, and searching through listings after listings for the perfect house in that town. I didn’t even think for a second that it wouldn’t work, making no backup plan, and having had a friend sell most of the belongings in my home. If Rory didn’t take me back, then I would either still live in the town and work on my next series or I would just travel. Either way I didn’t want to think about it. Rory was everything to me. She was the one that pulled me from the hell that I was living in, unable to even start to begin to think about my series. She made me smile. She made me believe that love was actually real and that there were people out there who cared. She reminded me that not everyone was like those people in Hollywood, and that even though I was a shell of a person when I got there, I wasn’t lost.
It took another four weeks, putting it somewhere around the end of March when there was a knock on my door. When I opened it, the owner of the B&B stood smiling at me, handing over a package. “This came for you today. It feels like a book. Whatever you’re reading you need to let us know, we have the book club in town. We would love some books to read while we wait for yours to come out.”
I smiled at her graciously. “I will absolutely do that. Maybe I’ll even drop by for your book club, if I’m allowed.”
She giggled. “Well, it’s a woman’s book club, but we might be able to make an exception just once.”
I chuckled, smiling at her as she walked away before shutting the door. I held the package in my hand, seeing the familiar address from Hollywood, knowing exactly what was in the package. Biting my lip, I tore it open and pulled out the final book in my series. Everything about it was perfect from the cover to the thickness, and even the smell of the pages inside. It was my masterpiece, my whole series was finished, and it was the main thing that was going to get me Rory back.
I looked down at my watch, realizing that I had just enough time to get over to her house and away again before she got home. I dressed quickly and headed downstairs, breaking into a jog as I hit the street. All the normal people waved and smiled at me as I passed and I grinned wildly, knowing that I was doing the right thing. Sure, there was a really good possibility that she would look at it and throw it in the trash. But at the same time, I was all about taking risks those days, and the payout if I were right would be absolutely worth it.
Something inside me though, something pretty strong, told me there was no way she could get the last book in the series and not read it. Not only had I written it, which I knew would peek her interests, but she had read every other book and I knew she was waiting for the last one. The ending would really surprise her, and I was hoping it would make her proud as well. Redemption was what I needed, and though I wanted it from everyone after the disaster of a television show, the person I cared about most was Rory. It really didn’t matter to me if I never sold another copy or if everyone else hated it. If Rory was happy with it then I would feel like I had done my job.
I left the book at her mailbox, and headed back to the B&B. All I had left to do was wait.
Chapter 20
Rory
“Hello, my sweet, sweet kitty cat,” I said with a smile as I walked in the front door.
I shrugged off my light jacket and hung it by the door, glad that it was about time to hang up my winter stuff. Spring was just around the corner, in fact just a few days away and my mood was starting to not feel so gloomy. I hadn’t gotten over Christian, not even a little bit, but at the same time it wasn’t like he was gone. I didn’t know what he was doing there, was really surprised that he was actually still hanging around the small town, but I figured it wasn’t going to hurt anything because no matter how much I tried to act like I didn’t care, it felt good to see him every other day when he came in for a cup of coffee and a chocolate chip cookie.
Tish finally stopped telling me to move on, and just let me be. I wasn’t moping, I wasn’t depressed, and I had gotten my mojo back. I was cooking up a storm at the bakery, making all kinds of new things. Somehow, even though I wasn’t sure where the people were coming from, our sales had jumped twenty five percent just since Christmas. We were getting ready to get into wedding season which meant that I would be sweating away in the back making wedding cakes for all the people from the city that came in to get married in the country. The season before, I had made sixteen wedding cakes in just two months, which was a record. I pretty much did not see the light of day for those two months and had enough cake disasters to last me the rest of my life. I was already booked up for the season, but I made sure to cut the amount I could take in half to start with so that I didn’t overwhelm myself, especially since we had a whole new line of baked goods coming out for the spring season.
After getting my mojo back, I made a deal with the local strawberry farmer and we were going to get fresh strawberries delivered once a week. I had all kinds of recipes written for it and I couldn’t wait to get started on it. On top of that, I was starting to compile my own recipe book, one that I was actually going to publish. But even with all of those things happening around me, and all of the things that I had to look forward to, my heart still ached for Christian.
I fed the cat and walked back over to the counter, going through the mail. Nothing really interesting until I got to the bottom of the pile where found a manila envelope with what felt like a book inside. I hadn’t ordered any new books recently since I hadn’t really had time to read the ones that were still sitting on the shelf from Christmas. When I pulled it out, my heart skipped a beat. I saw Christians name across the bottom, and I realized he had finally done it. He had finished his book and from the looks of the envelope with no postage and no address, he had dropped a copy off in my mailbox.
Slowly I sat down on the chair and stared at the cover, wondering why he was still in town if he had finished that long ago. Flipping open the hardcover, I found the dedication page and my name nearly jumped off the crisp white paper. “To Rory, the greatest inspiration of my life. If we never talk again, hopefully you will hear the whispers of my voice as you turn the pages of my book. And to Melissa, my favorite character, I realize now that you were leading me to my one true love.”
My eyes teared up a bit, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he meant me. If he meant that I was his one true love. I shook the thought from my head and grabbed a cup of coffee, heading into the living room to get comfortable on the couch. All night long I read the book, turning every page, hanging on every word, and finding a special kind of brilliance in what he had written. It was different than the rest of the series, showing a maturity, a growth,
a finality of that part of his life. It was brilliant. Every single page was brilliant. By the time I finished the last one, it was daylight and I wiped a tear from my cheek.
I sat there in the silence of my living room, staring out at the fresh morning sun, listening to the birds chirping outside. I couldn’t have been happier about the fact that I had Tish opening the café that morning, giving me a chance to really sit and think about what I had just taken in. A smile slowly moved over my lips and I jumped from the couch, peering into the kitchen. Without thought I started to pull down bowls and spatulas, whisks and flour. I began to make cookies, the best cookies that I had ever made in my life. If Christian was going to share his brilliance with me, then I was going to share my brilliance with him, no matter how things ended.
I could sit there and feel depressed about things forever if I wanted to, but it wouldn’t change how I felt about Christian. It was obvious I was in love with him, that I had figured out months before. What I still hadn’t kept myself from doing well, was being fearful of that fact. I didn’t want to be fearful of love anymore, even if I ran to the bed-and-breakfast and he told me he didn’t want to be with me, at least I was true to my own feelings. That, and I would hit him over the head with a tray of cookies.
Carefully I stacked the cookies on the tray, making them just perfect before covering them in saran wrap. Leaving the house, I climbed in my car that time, not really wanting to walk down the street with a tray of cookies. On top of that, I knew Tish would see me walking and I knew she would wonder where I was going. That time, I wanted it to be between me and Christian, and nobody else. I would tell her all about it later, especially if she was needed to mend a broken heart, but for right then, my emotions and love was reserved for Christian.
I pulled up in front of the B & B and put the car in park, suddenly feeling very nervous about my choice. When I had been at home it had been great idea, I was gung-ho, ready to go. But now… I felt more like turning around and going home and eating the entire tray of cookies on my own. Glancing over though, into the passenger seat, I saw the book sitting there, it’s cover shiny and new, the words on the inside calling to me. Christian could still be there for a multitude of reasons. His house could’ve fallen to the ground in California. He could have forgotten where he lived… Or maybe… The owner of the B & B had chained up in the basement. Either way, he was there and I hadn’t missed my chance to at least see if what we had was real. To see if what I was feeling, and what I had felt all those times we had been together was all in my mind or if it truly was that Clara kind of love.
I mustered my bravery, knowing that I probably would never have a chance for such a romantic situation again in my life. If things didn’t work out with Christian, I was either going to become the old cat lady, or I would end up marrying one of the guys from town and being semi-miserable for the rest of my life. I had a choice, and considering flannel plaid shirts weren’t really my thing, but hot sexy authors were, I grabbed the cookies and got out of the car.
Walking inside, I found the front desk empty and figured that they were busy cleaning the rooms. It was all the better for me considering I really didn’t want to see anyone that morning. I also didn’t want to be seen by anyone considering I wanted to keep what was about to happen between Christian and myself. As I climbed the stairs, I thought about the last time that I had been there. It felt like years ago, going to see him and visit him, going to surprise him before he had even written the first word of his book. I could still feel the ache in my chest as I stood outside of his door listening to the conversation he was having with whoever was on the other side. I had been heartbroken. He wasn’t even my boyfriend, and I had been heartbroken.
Usually, in my life, something like that would stop me in my tracks. Something like that would make my feet turnaround and I would head straight back to my car. I wasn’t the girl that wanted to learn a lesson twice. But I couldn’t do it. My heart weighed heavier than the tray of cookies in my hand, and it was beating for Christian. Our love was like one of my recipes. We had tested it, mixed in things, gotten the proportions completely wrong, burned each other, and then just when we thought we were tossing it in the trash, we gave it one last try. That was my one last try, climbing those stairs and knocking on that door.
I didn’t know if when I peered into the oven there would be crispy balls of sugar or perfectly created perfections, but it was a 50-50 shot in my opinion, and if I got the temperatures right, and the mixture was perfect this time, the risk was worth it. My breathing increased as I stepped down the hall, purposely walking slower than I normally would. I stepped in front of his door and bit the inside of my cheek, looking down at the cookies. Maybe what I was doing was cliché. He had written this brilliant book, his dedication seamless and perfect, and I had shown up at his door with a tray of cookies.
But that’s when something clicked in my head. It was exactly how Christian and I had always been. He had been deep and complicated, moody and grumpy, and I had been simple and down-home. He probably didn’t think I was simple considering I changed my mind every five seconds when I was with them, but in comparison to him, I was simple.
“Just knock on the door, Rory,” I told myself. “Just knock on the door.”
Suddenly the door flew open and my head snapped up with my eyes wide. Christian looked at me, down at the tray of cookies, and then back up at me again with a smile. “I thought I heard someone out here talking to themselves. I thought to myself, I smell baked goods, I’m really hoping Rory comes by, and she’s the only person I know that would stand outside of my door and talk to herself at 7 o’clock in the morning.”
Crap. I didn’t even check the time before I left.
I looked down at the cookies and wrinkled my nose. “I got done reading your book and I thought maybe I would come over and talk to you about it, but I didn’t want to come empty-handed, and I guess I should probably have looked at the time. I’m assuming that muffins would’ve been more appropriate at 7 o’clock in the morning.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve never really been a traditional guy. And it just so happens that I went to the store last night and put a gallon of milk in the refrigerator in the room. Would you like to have some cookies for breakfast with me?”
Would I ever.
Of course, I was thinking the entire time that my plan was going to work, but when I heard Rory talking to herself outside my hotel room, I was a little bit shocked. I wasn’t sure why I was shocked, maybe just because I was about to face her, it was seven in the morning, and I had to act as if I hadn’t been up all night wondering what she was thinking about the book. When I opened the door and found her holding a tray of cookies, I knew it could be either fantastic or she was bringing something to break it to me that she hated it.
Whatever the reason, I had her there and I wanted to explain everything to her. “Let me take these from you.”
I sat the cookies on the table and walked over to the chairs at the other side of the room. I thought maybe that would be more comfortable than sitting down on the bed. She sat nervously in the chair across from me, her eyes looking all around the room, her hands clutched in her lap. “You have a lot of stuff here now.”
I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. “Yeah, about that. The day that you overheard the conversation, I had decided that I didn’t want to leave the town. And even after that conversation I knew that I couldn’t leave, not while you were here, and not while you thought the wrong thing about what happened. So, I pretty much sold everything I had in California, had what I wanted shipped here, and now I live out of the bed-and-breakfast.”
Her mouth dropped open slightly and her forehead wrinkled. “You sold everything? You live here, in this bed-and-breakfast?”
I shrugged my shoulders and looked around. “It’s not that bad. It’s homey, there’s food whenever I need it right downstairs, and I don’t have to cook it myself. There’s also this a really awesome bakery down the street…�
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She shook her head. “Ha, Ha. I get it. I don’t really understand it, but you are kind of a complicated guy.”
I chuckled, leaning forward and putting my elbows on my knees. I looked up into her eyes, wanting her to know that what I was about to say I truly meant. “Rory, I can’t get you off of my mind. The entire time I wrote that last book I wrote it thinking about one person. I wrote it thinking about you being the only person in the world that would read it and I wanted to make it perfect. Everything I’ve done over the last several months has been to get me in a situation where I could have this conversation with you. I know things changed really fast between the two of us, so I want to start out with an explanation of what happened that day.”
“It’s really not necessary,” she said shaking her head. “Things were what they were and they’ve led us to this point.”
“While normally I would say awesome, that’s not enough for me,” I replied. “I’m here for you, and whether you accept me or not I’m not going anywhere anytime soon. I want you to 100% know the truth so that whatever choice you make, you make it knowing there were no secrets behind it.”
She shuffled in her chair and gave me a stout nod. “All right, that’s fair. I’m listening.”
I took in a long deep breath and centered myself, wanting to say what I had rehearsed in my head for the last several months. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. “The person that you heard me talking to, her name is Rachel and she’s an actress in Hollywood. She’s no one famous but she’s had some bit parts on different series and a couple of walk on’s in sitcoms. I met Rachel at a party, during a time in my life where the show was terrible, I was making a lot of money, but my book sales were plummeting. I couldn’t for the life of me get myself to find that creative spark that I needed to write my final book. I was reckless and lonely, and as I’ve said a million times, loneliness will make you do funny things.”
Promise Me Forever Page 11
